The Last Storyteller (First Edition) | Page 41

In his time off from his grueling life, he met with the other servants, at a corner of a major road crossing. A shifting mass of people gathered there, which seemed strange to Raja, as other people gathered in their homes, but the servants gathered in the open space of the streets. There, poor people could spend time with their companions beneath the trees, and the rules that guided normal city-dwellers seemed to fall away. Since they had none, no one talked about their love affairs, and felt free to love and lose as they saw fit. Sometimes, while his master’s family was taking their afternoon nap, he would go to the road crossing and play his flute. When he played, it seemed as if the entire world stopped to listen to his magical sound, and he forgot about the misery of his life and lived in the melody. Raja played the flute for his fellow servants, making their evenings brighter. His melodies spoke of deep, ancient forces in the human soul. After a little while Raja, with his flute, became the prince of the road crossing. Then, a little while after that, he met his princess. He saw her one day, sitting under the tree, a shy smile flitting across her lips. When she thought he wasn’t looking, she would turn her head towards him, and then dart back again. He asked around the crossing, and discovered that the girl’s name was Rani, which means “queen” in her native language. Raja thought that her mother had given her a perfect name. Rani also lived in a servant’s quarter but hers was far better than Raja’s cell-like room. He learned that she did the laundry for the wealthy family that lived in the center of the city. My queen, he thought to himself. He did not believe that this queen would ever pay attention to a poor boy from the country, but one day, as he was whistling on his flute, his eye caught hers. He stopped and clumsily rose, nervous that the object of his fantasies would be watching him so closely. “Don’t stop!” she called to him. He turned and gawked at her as she timidly approached him. “You play so beautifully. The music is so peaceful—yet so haunting and melancholic.” Raja blushed and shrugged his shoulders. “I play what’s in my heart. It just seems to come out of my fingers and my lips,” he explained. He was embarrassed that he sounded silly to this city girl, but she smiled brightly. “That is wonderful,” she breathed. “I wish I had the talent to play music that easily.” Raja handed her his flute. “It’s easy!” he declared. “Try it. I can teach you!” She backed away, as though he were handing her a snake.” “Oh no!” she insisted. “I have no musical gift. I prefer to sit and listen to you play.” Page | 41