The Chosen Prince by Diane Stanley

truth. Obviously it would also be better for Alexos, because if his crime is revealed, he will be ruined. What exactly will happen to him, he doesn’t know—execution? banishment?—but there is no doubt it will be terrible.
    On the other hand, he could lie. He could say to Suliman, “Yes, that’s exactly how it was,” and he would be magically washed free of blame so far as the worldwas concerned. He could go on as before, his reputation unsullied. He could even be king.
    Alexos shoots Suliman a pleading look but Suliman just gazes back, still as stone. You have to do this yourself , he’s saying. I can wait forever if I must.
    â€œYou know, don’t you?” Alexos says.
    â€œI think so.”
    â€œThen you must despise me.”
    Suliman pulls in a deep breath. He makes Alexos wait.
    â€œNo,” he finally says. “I don’t despise you. But I don’t understand it either. It goes completely against your character to do willful harm—and to your brother , Alexos! How is that possible, when you loved him so much?”
    â€œ I don’t know! That’s the truth. It just happened somehow. My hand was on the bow; I meant to get into the boat. That was truly my intention. But then . . .” His voice breaks and he can’t finish. Still, he’s satisfied that he’s done what was required. He’s confessed his crime when he might have evaded it. Every word he said was true.
    Tears are streaming down his cheeks now. He takes shuddering breaths, wipes his eyes and nose, tries to get control of himself. “I don’t understand it, Suliman. I really don’t.”
    Once again there is silence. Then, with admirable calm, “I think I have some idea, Alexos. May I tell you?”
    â€œPlease!”
    â€œFor all of us, there are moments when we ‘forget ourselves.’ In moments of overwhelming emotion we sometimes lose connection with our higher nature, our ability to reason and act according to our values and beliefs. We are reduced to our animal natures; and in that state we do irrational things. We kick a door and break a toe. We throw a precious cup against a wall. We say cruel words we do not really mean. This is a well-understood phenomenon, Alexos. Even our laws acknowledge it, punishing ‘crimes of passion’ more leniently than those committed ‘in cold blood.’
    â€œIn this case, of course, the harm you did was much worse than a broken toe or a shattered cup. So let’s consider what led up to it.”
    â€œNothing,” Alexos says. “Nothing at all. Teo was his usual, wonderful, sweet self and I—”
    â€œPlease listen, Alexos. Let me finish. I have spoken in the past about the weight of responsibility you’ve carried since your earliest years. You were never allowed to be a natural child—or really a child at all. You handled it with remarkable courage, as I have also told you before.
    â€œBut these last few months you’ve been tested almost beyond endurance. Think, Alexos: the pressure and humiliation of the festival race, the disapproval of your father, the grave illness that might have killed you, and the resulting paralysis that has robbed you for life of the normal use of your legs. Then on top of all that, your father takes away your life’s purpose and makes Teo his heir instead. He was in the Queen’s Garden at the same time as you—am I right? And you overheard him?”
    â€œHow did you know?”
    â€œThe king gasped when I told him you had planned to walk there.”
    â€œHe said it might have been better if I had died.”
    â€œThat was very cruel.”
    Alexos shrugs. “Maybe not. If I had, then Teo would be alive.”
    Suliman gives him that deep look again. He is turning it over in his mind.
    â€œIt was hurtful to hear all the same. And you were already strung as tight as a bow just before the arrow is loosed. When a bow