Princess Carmel; Chapter 8

Princess Carmel; Chapter 8

© 2022 by Amber Wright

SCROLL SEVEN

Carmel nodded, taking all of her mother’s words in. Wherever she would go, whatever she would do, she would be her true self for no one could take her place because she had been born Carmel.

“And,” Queen Anath strung more white beads onto the necklace she was making, “you will be the first of my daughters to become queen. You will be the first, for even I became Princess of Tyre before I became queen.”

“I…I never thought of that. What do I do?” Carmel stammered, swallowing with wide eyes.

Carmel would not only move to another kingdom but she would become the queen as well. She would become the wife of the ruler of Aram-Damascus. The thought nearly unnerved her but she knew that El would not have given her the task if she was not capable of doing it properly.

“You will do as you have always done,” Queen Anath replied. “Be Carmel. Aram-Damascus needs a fine queen as you will be.”

Carmel started to speak but felt her tongue dry up like a well in a drought. So she simply nodded. She felt her hands bead with sweat and decided she needed a short break. She fastened the string she was beading to the harp-like wood structure and stood up to pace the floor, drying her hands on her robe.

“Don’t forget.” Queen Anath told her gently but firmly. “You were born for this purpose.”

Born for this purpose? The thought spun over and over through Carmel’s mind as she stared out into her beloved scenery, her home and land of Tyre. Oh El, show me Your way!

A white dove fluttered past the open window and then she knew. Dove was the symbol peace. She absently nodded as the bird flew away. Yes, I will be the Treaty of Peace for my people. Then she returned to her seat and continued to string Batnoam’s necklace.

00000

The wedding day of Batnoam’s arrived with blue skies and crystal clear air, the breeze warm yet free of humidity. Still, Carmel’s palms soaked with beads of perspiration as she sat beside King Ezron during the ceremony. Only the day after their betrothal would be announced.

Afterwards came the eating and singing. The whole city seemed to be alive with happiness and music. It was fitting for Byblos, the oldest city in the region, was joining their prince to a daughter of the relatively new capital city-state, Tyre.

Carmel ate but little, knowing fate waited for her impatiently. Why couldn’t I have waited to be “bargained off” in marriage like my sisters have? Batnoam is seventeen and Nikkal is past fifteen. I am only thirteen, almost…a child still. She glanced at herself discreetly in the reflection of her silver goblet.

Carmel looked away, feeling a twinge of fear settle into the pit of her stomach. I am too young to be a queen. El, what must I do? I have agreed and now I cannot break my vow. She took a sip of water.

“Tomorrow will be our big day.” King Ezron interrupted her thoughts as if he had read them.

“Yes,” a nervous swallow and a few blinks.

“Why are you nervous?” he began to frown with disapproval.

“Pray do not be angry with me, my lord.” Carmel lowered her eyes to the food laden table. “I—I am only…”

“My lady?”

Carmel caught King Ezron’s frown melt into a look of concern. She forced her voice to speak louder. “I am only thinking of the future—our future. The future of our peoples. The future of the next generation.”

“Why the next generation? Surely these present times are enough to worry over.”

“I am thinking because,” Carmel said slowly, watching his reaction, “the choices we make today, as rulers and kings and queens, will influence the peoples of tomorrow.”

“Wise child.”

“I am not a—” Carmel began furiously with a frown; then caught herself midway.

“Child?” King Ezron switched into a faint smile. “I thought you told me you were a mere thirteen year-old and that you were still yet a child. Have you suddenly grown up in so short of time—Carmel?”

“I am a child when it comes to—” her words drifted and she shrugged, not knowing what else to say without being rude or thoughtless.

“Marrying me?” King Ezron lifted one brow. “Does my looks frighten you that much?”

Carmel shook her head, hoping her crown wouldn’t fall down in the process. She reached up to make sure it was still sitting on her head properly. It was. She smiled.

“Ah—the first time I have made you smile. I shall talk about my looks more often.”

Carmel jerked her head to face him. “My lord, it was because—” She felt her crown tilt.

King Ezron caught it and pushed it back onto her head. “Princess Carmel, you should not do things in which you would lose your crown when I have so hardly fought for mine.”

“I shall not do so again.” Carmel looked down, abashed. “Sometimes when one is born into position, it is almost easy to forget why we wear our crowns.”

“Might I ask why?”

“The crown symbolizes achievement.”

King Ezron nodded, looking pleased at her. “And?”

“And if we lose our crown, it means we have lost our victory!” Carmel ended dramatically.

“Correct evaluation, my lady.” King Ezron nodded in direction across the table. “Then I am pleased that the princess child is the only eligible daughter of King Hiram of Tyre. I almost had the wrong one.”

Carmel’s eyes widened. “My lord, I truly wish I am not…the wrong one.”

King Ezron lifted one brow again.

“I am the only daughter of King Hiram of Tyre who loves to study, write and help design buildings with my father.”

“Then a lady with many talents is very wise to have for Queen of Aram-Damascus,” King Ezron replied.

“Yes, my lord.” Carmel began to breathe in peace for the first time in many days.