“Bienvenido a España!” As we exited the airport, we heard the words being yelled at by a few individuals in the waiting area. “Welcome to España,”
We didn't slack off or take a break. We hailed a cab and rushed to the location marked on the piece of paper that Emmet's brother had handed us. The flight from Madrid to Segovia costs 200 euros. His face beamed with anticipation at the prospect of finally reuniting with his mother after so much time had passed. Because he had to go through everything by himself, he had a burning desire to have a person he could call his own mother. When everything seems to be working against him, he doesn't even have anyone to comfort him with a hug. But things are about to change, and Prince Augustus will soon meet the person he has been looking forward to spending time with for a very long time.
We've been traveling for about two hours and have reached Pedraza, Segovia. His mother is probably around here somewhere.
"Gracias, señor," I said, stumbling over my words as I attempted to communicate in the Spanish dialect.
I was captivated by the appearance of the location after exiting the cab. It was astounding that I could not tear my eyes away from this place. It's like stepping back in time, and I find it even more impressive that they've managed to keep this beautiful place up for so long with such sturdy construction. I couldn't believe what I was seeing right now, but it was a shame that I couldn't take a tour or go on vacation because I wasn't here to do either.
"Come on, Neggie!" Prince Augustus said, reaching out his hand to me.
It's been said that Pedraza, Segovia, is no more than a sleepy little village. Their population is also small, so I'm confident we'll be able to locate the house quickly. We arrived in Pedraza's main square. We started by asking people questions here.
“¡Perdóneme!” An elderly gentleman who appeared local caught my eye. I had to resort to chasing after him because he didn't respond to my initial call. “Señor, señor!”
“Sí?”
I made a copy of the Spanish phrases I planned to use. "Pue... do pe... no, I mean. Puedo—pregun..”
Prince Augustus snatched the paper from my grasp.
“¿Puedo preguntar? ¿Sabes cómo se llama Cynthia? Ella vive por aquí.” (Can I ask? Do you know Cynthia's name? She lives around here.)
"Cynthia?" he pondered for a moment. “Lo siento, pero no sé quién es Cynthia.” (I'm sorry, but I don't know who Cynthia is.)
I couldn't take my gaze away from the prince as he spoke to the old man. He appears to have been here for quite some time, given the naturalness of his Spanish language skills.
"Ya veo, gracias, y perdón por interrumpir tu paseo." (I see, thank you, and sorry for interrupting your walk)
"No hay problema niño," he said as he resumed his stroll. (No problem kid)
I started off by saying, "You make me green with envy. You're fluent in several languages as if you were a native. Not like me, who needs a copy just to communicate in their native tongue."
"Learning different languages was part of being a prince, so that's not really something that you can envy. You should take Spanish classes,"
"But that was something only for you,"
"I can request Mr. Herrera to allow you to join."
“Really?” I spoke up a little louder. "That will be fantastic!"
Prince Augustus stroked my hair. "I believe that I need some company, studying the Spanish language by myself is quite boring."
Despite the town's size, we could not track down his mother. That's why we went our separate ways. Before parting ways, he reassured me that I didn't have to make an effort to speak Spanish because I could just speak English.
I was wandering around Pedraza's street, unsure of where to go or who to ask. I simply followed the straight path my feet led me to a house where the light was on even though the sun had not set. I moved closer to it to get a better view of it. There were various loaves of bread on the porch. It was, after all, a bakery. A lady in an apron appeared, holding another basket of bread. I overheard her chatting away happily with her one and only client as I passed by. I understand none of their conversations because they are speaking in their native tongue.
“Nos vemos entonces,” (See you then) the other young lady, who was on the verge of leaving when it appeared as though she forgot to say something. “Y Cynthia, no olvides la fiesta de esta noche. Todo el pueblo te está esperando, en especial tu famoso pan.” (And Cynthia, don't forget the party tonight. The whole town is waiting for you, especially your famous bread)
“Sí, sí Amera,” she nodded.
Cynthia? My initial reaction was one of reluctance because I suspected that perhaps she was not the person I had been looking for. Then I recalled the picture, which is uncannily accurate.
She saw me standing in front of her shop. “Hola, estas perdida? I mean, you're not from around here, are you? Are you lost?"
Not a word was exchanged between us; rather, I just bolted away from her. I can imagine her thinking I'm crazy, but the truth is I had to find the prince and tell him I found her mother.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed his number right away. I gasped for air and yelled out to Prince Augustus, "I found her; I found your mother, Cynthia."
The call came to an end when I saw the prince standing with his phone still in his ears and looking dumbfounded by what I had just said.
I held his hand in mine and led him to the store, where his mother was.
We are both catching our breath after our long run. The grin on my face did not fade. But his smile had vanished. Nervousness had taken its place. So I tightened my grip on his hand. "There is no need to feel nervous; I am here, and she is your mom," I told her, giving her the biggest smile that I was capable of giving at the time.
The lady, who was the prince's mother, reappeared. "Hey, you're the girl from earlier," she said, recalling me. "Did anything happen to you?"
"Cynthia," the prince said.
She shifted her focus to the prince standing before her. "That's my name, by the way."
Prince Augustus removes the hat that had been covering his face. “Mom...”
The sight of the prince causes the lady to recoil in shock, and she comes dangerously close to falling as she takes a step back. "P-Prince Augustus, why... are you here?"
"I'm— here for you," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "Cynthia, mo—mom!"
Cynthia went to comfort the crying prince. She extended her arms to embrace the prince. This was the time when I saw the prince cry a lot, but unlike before, it wasn't because he was in any pain but rather because he was extremely happy.
"Oh, Augustus," she said as she stroked the prince's back.
"I'm sorry, I was just a child back then. During the time that they were taking you away from me, I was helpless to do anything except cry." He apologized, but his tears kept falling as if they didn't want to stop.
She let go of the prince's grasp. "Please forgive me, Prince Augustus. However, I am not your mother.
Simply by uttering those words, she has caused the world that he has created to fall apart once more. Another feeling of melancholy quickly took its place in his heart. As soon as he realized that the woman he had always thought was his mother was not his biological mother, all of his hopes and efforts were for naught.
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"I have no idea what kinds of fabrications they subjected you to, but I can assure you that I am not your mother. I am merely a servant who has been tasked with the responsibility of looking after the young prince. The rumors they spread are completely false. I am not the king's mistress, and you are not the result of betrayal. The queen was well aware of this, but she still treated me as though I had acted improperly toward the king, showing me disgust in several ways." While Cynthia was telling lies from the past, Prince Augustus sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the ground. "You should know that when they made me leave the palace against my will, I couldn't stop thinking about you and how they would treat you. Will they treat you the same way they treat your mom?"
"What do you mean, treat him the same way they treat his mother?" I queried out of sheer interest.
"I don't want to remember those things; it causes too much pain in my heart when I think about the days that they tortured the princess." She uttered those words as she turned her back on us. "Nothing the princess did was wrong; she simply fell in love. That is what they refuse to accept."
"So, what you're saying is that the king is having an affair with a princess and that the mother of the prince was in love with the king?"
"What? No!" Cynthia turned around, clearly taken aback by my comment. "Did they tell you that?"
"But it appears to be what you're saying,"
"No, you're not paying attention. No affair occurred. Why would siblings get involved in an affair?"
"Sibling?" The prince, who had been mute earlier, broke his silence with an unexpected question. "How is that even possible? My father is the king!" Cynthia immediately covered her mouth in disbelief after hearing what the prince had to say. "He is the one who always makes decisions in my life; I obey his every command... because he told me he was my dad."
Cynthia moved closer to him and made a slow reach for his hand. Just as she was about to touch his face, the prince stalled her and prevented her from doing so. "King Lucien is not your father; rather, he is your uncle."