Summer 12

If I learn to read and write properly, the Prince will be pleased. He even offered to teach me, so he must be. Judging by how often he checks my progress, it must be true.

Senita’s hand, awkwardly gripping the pencil, tightened its hold. Senita pressed down firmly, trying to write neatly. Focusing so intently, her head drooped lower and lower as if she were about to bury her face in the paper. Since the attendants had been dismissed, the only sounds in the room were the scratching of Senita’s pencil on the paper and the rustling of the pages as Iskandar slowly turned them.

Senita glanced at the Prince sitting beside her. His neat fingers held the book, and his gaze, focused on the text, was hidden in the shadow of his eyelashes. Beautiful. Her cheeks turned red as she repeated the admiration that had become a habit.

If I learn to read, I’ll be able to read the books the prince reads.

That was a wonderful thought.

Would I be less pitiful if I learned to read?

That also seemed like a good thing.

Yet, part of her wondered if it truly was a good thing.

Lost in the unanswerable question, Senita started moving her pencil again. Immersed in writing the letters correctly, she soon forgot about the dilemma.

A lukewarm breeze drifted in from the open window. The pure white linen curtains swayed, tracing the shape of the air. The wind, which had been creating green waves by rustling the lush leaves, now seemed intent on creating golden ripples. Senita lifted her free hand to brush away the hair obstructing her view.

However, Iskandar was faster. He had been watching her with his chin resting on his hand when he reached out and pulled the golden strands covering her eyes to the side of her face. He didn’t let go of the hair and stroked it several times.

Senita’s movements stopped abruptly at the unexpected touch. It felt as if all her senses were concentrated on the hair held in his hand.

Iskandar did not allow the child to stop, though.

“You should finish writing.”

“Oh, yes!”

Senita hurriedly replied and resumed writing. The sound of her hair being brushed by his hand tickled her ear. Her cheek burned under his sun-like gaze.

“I-I’m finished.”

Having hurriedly finished writing, Senita looked up at Iskandar.

“Well done. You’re learning quickly.”

It was a kind compliment.

Ah! Letting out a soft gasp, Senita turned her gaze back to the paper and bit her lip. The corners of her mouth turned upward. She couldn’t hide her joy.

It wasn’t just because she had been praised for completing the task properly. Even if she was praised by her aunt or the manager, she didn’t think she would feel this happy. Honestly, even if Her Majesty had conveyed those kind words with her beautiful lips, it wouldn’t have thrilled her as much.

“Here.”

Iskandar’s hand suddenly entered Senita’s field of vision. His fingertip pointed to a blank space on the paper.

“Write my name.”

Iskandar.

Without understanding why, Senita did as he instructed. The carefully written letters were perfect.

“Read it.”

This time, she hesitated, unable to follow his instructions immediately. Writing and speaking seemed like completely different tasks, separated by a vast gap.

“You can say it.”

Noticing her hesitation, Iskandar gave her permission. His breath, so close, tickled her cheek. Senita looked up at him, feeling flustered. His bright, golden eyes were fixed on her from very close by.

Why? Why is the Prince putting me through this ordeal? But if he has given permission, it should be alright, shouldn’t it? He told me to, so I should say it. Can I say it? Is it really okay?

Senita repeatedly parted her lips, but no words came out. The enchanting name lingered on the tip of her tongue, hesitant to be spoken.

“Come on, Senita.”

He urged her gently. It was a command. She had to obey. Now, finally.

Senita finally spoke, her voice hesitant.

“I-Iskandar.”

The name dispersed like a sweet sigh. The agonizing wait felt like an eternity, but the utterance was fleeting.

Startled by her own words, Senita covered her mouth with her hand. She was afraid someone might have heard her utter the Prince’s name. Even though she knew there was no one else in the room but the two of them.

“Well done.”

The Prince smiled. He smiled at her.

Iskandar. Iskandar. The name she couldn’t bring herself to utter again rolled around in her mouth.

Her heart pounded as he smiled at her. He was merely caring for a pitiful child and instructing an ignorant girl, as a ruler should. She knew that, yet her heart fluttered.

A gust of wind from the south stirred up waves in her heart. High, very high. Giant waves large enough to engulf a small girl like her.

***

Now that she could read, Senita read aloud from the fairy tale in front of the Empress and the Prince. She read the story of Cinderella becoming a princess slowly but clearly, without making any mistakes. The Empress was pleased with her son’s accomplishment.

“Even a child like that can learn if taught. Amazing.”

“Even a dog can learn to shake hands with training. Let alone a human. Senita is clever; she memorized the letters quickly.”

“To receive such praise from you, she must be a remarkable child.”

The Empress’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. The Prince smiled at Senita, too. Seeing them smile, Senita smiled too.

A dog. A human. What’s the difference between training a dog and teaching me?

As a reward for learning to read so well, the Empress told Senita she could keep the dress she was wearing. The Prince tried to dissuade her subtly, speaking in his usual tone, but the Empress insisted that rewards and punishments be clear. The Prince didn’t argue further, confirming her firm decision.

Having achieved the initial goal, there was no need to teach the maid anything more. The play resumed. It was the kind of plaything game that would please the Empress.

Senita was a little disappointed that she couldn’t learn more, but as long as she spent time with the Prince, she was endlessly happy, no matter what they did.

Perhaps because the reading lessons were over, Iskandar didn’t spend as much time with her anymore. He disappeared with his mother, as he usually did. This time, however, he gave Senita a letter he had written when he sent her away.

“Read it and write me a reply. I’ll give you writing supplies.”

Because Iskandar had instructed her to, Senita diligently wrote a letter every night before going to bed. The letters she received were short stories about the weather, the scenery, and the games they played together that were easy to understand.

Senita pondered her replies for a long time. Then, Iskandar would respond to what she had written. They were able to exchange thoughts through both spoken and written words. Each day, the child’s sentences grew longer as she discovered this new joy. Even though she hadn’t always received replies of equal length, it didn’t matter.

Nora was proud that Senita had learned to read. The fact that her teacher was the prince bothered her, but there was nothing she could do about it. It had already happened, and it was well known among the Summer Palace servants that Senita was being favored to that extent.

Nora didn’t consider it a good situation. But there was nothing else she could do. All she could do was pray that Senita wouldn’t get carried away.

Despite Nora’s fervent wishes, the days passed and the jealousy of the young maids grew sharper, even reaching her ears.

Summer ripened, exuding an overly sweet fragrance like that of fruit waiting to fall.

Around the time the morning and evening breezes began to feel cool, Senita’s ankle returned to normal. It had been about fifteen days since she was injured. It no longer hurt, and the physician who had been attending to Senita at Iskandar’s behest declared her fully recovered.

Having regained her mobility, Senita lightly swayed her body, causing her skirt to flutter like a bird’s long tail. The Empress was pleased, saying she could entertain herself in more ways now. The Prince said nothing; he just wore his usual serene smile.

Then, the next day, Senita was told that she didn’t need to come to play as a companion.