Letters to a Dark Prince

Mara dragged her feet toward the black car parked in the front. Her old backpack felt like it was full of rocks. She looked at the gravel, but her gaze kept pulling back to the little house behind her.

The wind from the mountains brushed against her thin sweater, carrying the cold morning air with it. The house behind her looked smaller than usual. Maybe because she knew she wouldn’t see it again for a long time. It stood alone near the mountains. No neighbors. No voices. Just wind brushing against the roof.

Her shoes scraped lightly against the ground as she walked forward. The soles were thin. She could feel the small stones under her feet.

She kept her head down.

The driver stepped forward and opened the back door without a word. His eyes swept over her clothes, shoes, and bag with a cold, distant stare.

Mara bit her lip hard. She took a breath and moved to get inside.

“Mara!”

A voice called out to her from a distance.

She froze, her whole body going still.

Mara’s breath caught. She recognized that voice.

She pulled her foot back from the car, scanning ahead.

When she saw him, her eyes widened.

“Ashvin!”

“Mara!” he shouted back. Behind him, two more boys were sprinting to catch up.

She ran to meet him, her worn sneakers kicking up gravel. He skidded to a stop in front of her, his hair wild, his face flushed from the cold and the running. His jacket was open, flapping. He was breathing so hard he could barely speak.

“Don’t go,” he finally got out, the words raw.

Mara’s chest rose quickly. She glanced back at the driver. His blank face now carried a slight frown.

She panicked.

She turned back to Ashvin, stumbling over her words. “I-I can’t stay.”

The two other boys finally reached them, bending over with their hands on their knees, gasping for air.

“Mara,” one of them asked, still breathing hard, “are you really leaving?”

Ashvin stepped closer. His hand wrapped around her arm, fingers cold. He was shaking.

“You’re not going, right?” His voice cracked.

Mara pulled her arm back gently. Her other hand curled into a fist at her side.

“Ashvin… I need to go,” she said softly. “I have to. You know that.”

“No, you don’t!” He grabbed her shoulders this time, holding them tight. “You don’t have to.”

She turned her face away, blinking fast. The wind stung her eyes, or maybe it wasn’t just the wind.

After a moment of building a wall inside her chest, she forced herself to look at him.

Avoiding him felt worse.

His jaw was tight. The muscle there twitched. There was a fresh scrape across his knuckles, slightly red, like he’d hit something.

“Don’t do that,” she said quietly.

“Do what?” His laugh sounded wrong. “Pretend this is normal? That it’s fine some rich people show up right after your grandmother dies and suddenly decide you belong to them?”

Belong.

The word pressed against her chest.

After all these years, her grandma had finally told her the truth on her deathbed. She had parents. A real family. She wanted to belong to them so badly it was an ache, even if she didn’t understand why they’d left her behind in the first place.

“They’re not strangers. It doesn’t matter,” Mara said, her fist tightening so he wouldn’t see it shake.

“It matters to me,” Ashvin snapped back.

“Ashvin, what matters is that I have a family now. A real one.”

“But you said we were family,” one of the boys mumbled from behind him.

Her lips trembled for a second before she pressed them together.

“It can’t compare,” she said softly.

The words seemed to hit Ashvin all at once.

He stepped back like something inside him had been pushed.

“I can’t change your mind, can I?” he asked quietly. She could see the faint shine of tears in his eyes, but she held herself steady.

His hands slowly slipped off her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the words tight in her throat. “I can’t stay here anymore. The only person I’ve known my whole life is gone. I… I have a future now. They’re giving me a chance to attend one of the best schools there.”

She inhaled slowly.

“I hope you understand, Ashvin.”

He shook his head, like the words hurt physically. He stumbled back a step.

“Okay,” he murmured. “Okay.”

“Brother!” one of the boys called worriedly.

But Ashvin didn’t answer them.

His red-rimmed eyes stayed on Mara.

He moved closer again.

For a second, her chest tightened. She thought he was going to hug her.

Instead, he grabbed her hand and opened her fingers gently, pressing something small and cool into her palm.

Mara looked down, confused.

A tiny handmade bumblebee hair pin rested there.

“You’re always complaining that the rope you use to tie your hair snaps,” he said, forcing a small smile. “I made this for you. Now you don’t have to complain about your hair getting in your way.”

“Ashvin—”

“Mara,” he cut in softly. “I hope you remember who you are. Don’t forget yourself.”

'Who am I?'

The question echoed in her chest as she stared at the little bee in her hand.

She looked up at him and smiled. A real one this time.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll come back to visit. I’ll always remember this place.”

She turned around before he could reply and walked quickly back to the car. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t let them see the tears that had already begun to fall down her cheeks.

The driver didn’t say a word.

He only stared at her with a faint frown before opening the back door wider.

Mara lowered her head. “Sorry,” she murmured as she slid inside, pulling her bag close.

He didn't respond. Just shut the door with a solid thunk. He walked around the front, slid into his seat, and started the engine without a single glance at the three boys standing in the gravel.

The car pulled away. Dust kicked up behind it.

Ashvin stood there, unmoving, watching the car disappear down the narrow road that led away from the mountains.

The two boys beside him started coughing.

“Ash! Let’s go!” one of them said, tugging his sleeve.

He didn’t respond.

The other boy, the taller one who had stayed quiet until now, clenched his fists.

“I can’t believe she left,” he muttered in anger. “The moment she saw a chance at a rich life, she just walked away.”

Ashvin’s jaw tightened.

“I told you you were stupid,” the boy continued. “You gave up your scholarship to stay here because of her. And she didn’t even hesitate.”

He shook his head and walked off.

The other boy followed slowly.

Ashvin remained.

His fingers curled so tight his knuckles turned white. A faint cracking sound came from his clenched fists.

Then he laughed.

A short, empty sound.

One tear slipped down before he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand.

His gaze stayed fixed on the road long after the dust settled.

“I’ll find my way to the city.”

His eyes hardened.

“And next time… I'll make sure you never leave me again.”

He turned back toward the mountain road with a new resolve, the wind brushing past his frail frame.

Since he couldn't get her to stay, he would find her.