I remember that, but that’s not the way it happened. Is it?
“It was on this day that he was first introduced to the woman who would become the love of his life, Princess Miranda Wusong.”
Miranda Wusong? What about Nadia? Wait . . . who is Nadia?
There is a red flashing before my eyes. I hear voices from beyond the amniotic deep of this strange trance.
“He’s resisting the programming, my lord.”
“Then intensify the medication and procedure,” says Edric.
Now I remember. Edric murdered Nadia. He murdered my unborn child. He murdered . . .
“If you push this too far, my lord, he may no longer remember who he is at all.”
There is a pause. “Do it,” Edric says.
Lightning shoots through my body. All my nerves are on fire. I scream, but the sounds are muffled in this liquid dream.
“Young Edmon and Miranda were betrothed, and it was not long after their fifteenth birthdays that they began a courtship in full. The two became storybook loves—he from humble origins, and she from the most powerful dynasty in the Pantheon. Even the emperor could not deny their deep connection. He admired the young warrior’s courage. With his best friend and younger brother, Edgaard, at his side, Edmon quickly won the hearts of the people.”
Images of us during the war games with The Companions flash. I’m fighting off Sigurd and Perdiccus.
The aquagraphic shifts. Old Wusong addresses a crowd in the throne room in some sort of royal announcement. Miranda, now older, veiled, and dressed in lavish kimonos, stands at his side.
“While there are many fine, strong youths of this new generation, there is only one who is truly worthy of my daughter’s hand—Edmon Leontes.”
Miranda. I’ve won your heart, and you’ve won mine. This is the story that all of Tao knows.
The image dissolves to me, standing in a dress uniform before a throne. I remember that. The image is from the day I confronted Phaestion about the murders in the arcology. I never stood before the emperor and accepted his daughter’s hand . . .
The lightning shoots through my body again and again. I scream. The sound is muffled by the liquid I swim in. The pain is too great.
“Edmon Leontes even abdicated his place as heir to House Leontes in order to devote his time and efforts to supporting Miranda with charity work designed to heal the planet. He joined her in their humanitarian activities to rally public support against the passage of House Julii’s military creation act . . .”
Miranda, my love, soon we will be married. We can help Edric and serve his plans to save this world.
The show goes on, and my heart swells with joy.
My body moves, but it’s not in my control. The drugs cause me to feel outside myself, watching everything that happens. I smile with giddy satisfaction.
This is the day I’ve waited my whole life for. I’m floating!
“Edgaard,” I say with a voice that feels like it comes from another room. “Did Father really think the drugs were necessary?”
“Father felt you were so nervous that they would help relax you. Don’t worry, brother, Alberich and I are here to guide you for the camglobes.”
I watch as Edgaard and Alberich accompany me to the preparation spa. My stubble is shaved. My skin is sprayed with a layer of shading paint that hides every blemish and scar. I radiate an artificial glow. My hair is styled with a glossy finish, making the dark locks shiny and lustrous. Edgaard and Alberich clothe me in ceremonial robes of midnight blue. Armor plated with silver is fitted to my wrists and shins to round out the colors of House Leontes.
The double doors to the hall of Old Wusong open, and a long aisle spreads out before me. It seems to go on for kilometers. The nobles of the Pantheon, dressed in their finery, flank either side.
“Walk,” Alberich whispers in my ear.
“Thank you,” I whisper back, grateful for the direction. The drugs take over, and my body moves forward.
The audience erupts in applause at my entrance. Fanfare plays on gilded trumpets. Camglobes hover in front of my face. Edmon Leontes, the prodigal son, has returned from his self-imposed exile on the Isle of Bone! the aquas will say. He has been living the life of an ascetic, meditating, preparing himself for this day, when he weds the love of his life, the beautiful Miranda Wusong.
A voice tickles the back of my brain. Fight them, Edmon!
Fight them? I think. This is my proudest moment!
Alberich takes position in the crowd. Edgaard, as best man, nudges me forward. “It’s almost over, brother,” he reassures me. “Move up the stairs.”
I nod and lurch forward. My father stands upon the dais, looking every bit the feudal lord. I smile. I love you, Father, I think.
Two women also in the colors of House Leontes stand on his left. One looks like a diminutive porcelain doll with raven hair and refined features. Her perfectly arcing eyebrows frame violet irises. She’s coldly beautiful. Lavinia, my elder sister, I realize. I haven’t seen her since I was nine . . . no, wait, I grew up with her in House Leontes. Didn’t I?
The other girl has a heart-shaped face and long, lustrous copper hair. The smile on her full lips is genuine, full of joy at the pageantry. My dull-witted younger sister. What was her name? Phoebe? I think. I should know this. She and I were constant companions before she joined Lavinia at finishing school. She’s beautiful in a bland sort of way, a perfect pawn for my father to marry off to one of the other noble houses.
Pawn? I chastise myself. Father loves us. He wouldn’t deny us the marriage of our hearts.
The crowd has the same radiant smile that I wear. Camglobes hover everywhere.
Break free, Edmon!
Why do I think that all of a sudden?
I’m tempted by an overpowering urge to flee. I don’t know why. I try to run, to will my body to break free from the hold of the narcotics coursing through my blood. My foot slips, and I almost crash into the carpet. Edgaard catches me.
“Don’t try to resist,” he urges. “You’ll only look bad. Just move forward.”
Thank the ancestors for Edgaard. I’m so glad that I abdicated my position as heir. Edgaard is truly the strong warrior our house needs.
I feel a particular set of eyes upon me. They pierce through my stupor. I feel them as I ascend the dais. I feel them as I bow before Edric’s cold, triumphant gaze. It takes all my strength to turn my head toward the eyes I feel on my back.
Yes! I can move my head! I smile. I knew I was stronger than some silly drugs.
My eyes lock with the gray gaze of Phaestion Julii. He looks back at me from the first row of guests. Perdiccus, Hanschen, and Sigurd are of course by his side, decked in the regalia of their respective houses. The sight of them stops me in my tracks. I’m flooded with images: Hanschen stabbing me with a pair of short swords. Perdiccus with a trident pinning my foot to a mat. Sigurd standing over me with a giant mace. Phaestion kissing me on a beach. A beach with white shores.