High Tower

Though it pains me to say it, I admit that I have been distracted as of late. Focus has always come easy to me, but since my mother’s funeral there have been times where I find my mind drifting. It’s as if what is conscious wants what is best for me and what is not only wishes to fulfill lingering fantasies. I’ve coped with this so far, but I am unsure of how long I shall be able to.

In search of an answer, I turned to my predecessors. Dealing with distracting thoughts is a foreign issue to me, but the task has never been uncommon for others. I was sure there would have been something reasonable said on the issue in the library.

After inquiring about such situations with the royal librarian and a brief study, I found the common prescription for the roaming mind of a royal. Whether it be a source from the age of legends or a source from the age of reason, a meditation within the old castle’s high tower is always the first suggestion.

With the festival approaching, I decided to wait until the day of to perform my meditation. Since my studies were postponed, I was able to set off in the morning. I carried with me the lantern and matches Eliza had prepared the night before.

Arriving atop the high tower, I found myself in a dark and quiet room. The walls did have openings for light to come through, but stone slabs had been used to seal them so as to keep the noise out. Of course there were sconces placed to cope with this and night, but my lantern proved bright enough for them to be unnecessary.

I looked above. Just as I had read, the ceiling was covered with a map of the stars. A painting commissioned by a queen of old.

“So that all my children and their children after shall never be lost in their dreams again.”

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As was prescribed, I sat myself in the room’s center, put out my lantern, and began my meditation. With little prompt, the questions that had been plaguing me returned.

What could have been if she hadn’t died? Is there any point in trying so hard when it ends so easily? What if she really was the woman we all adored? Why did she never acknowledge me? Was I a failure in her eyes?

The questions that came to me, I answered with daydreams. Products of my imagination that I’d never let leave that room. When my answer was a nightmare, I cut myself off, but when my thoughts were of happy things, I’d find my mind lingering.

It was like that, I spent what remained of the morning. I’d have probably spent the whole day if it weren’t for a faint sound. Something high-pitched and foreign enough to prompt me to open my eyes. As soon as I did, I saw the painted stars dancing above me. Relighting my lantern, I looked again, but the stars had already been returned to their initial positions, stationary.

At that point, I thought it was best that I call it a day for meditation. I was already feeling refreshed and my intuition had told me that I should check on whatever made that sound.

When I opened the tower door, I took only a few steps down the stairs before hearing the royal guard running and shouting. I picked up my pace, but I caught none of them before I emerged from the castle. Most of the guards I saw were running toward the palace. I asked two of the guards who remained stationed at the castle what was going on. They told me that a high-pitched sound followed by the sound of shattering glass was heard from the palace.

After talking to them I returned to the palace and met another group of guards in the courtyard. They informed me that a perimeter had been established around the ballroom and that the staff was being collected. From what they could tell, the high-pitched sound had originated from the ballroom and had shattered all the glass within. As for the sound’s cause, I’m afraid they were unable to come up with anything close to an answer even after questioning all of the staff that had remained on the estate. In the end, Father had the glass removed, commissioned the ballroom’s repair, and had guards stationed outside the room to prevent further incidents.