Chapter Nineteen.
A New Beginning
This morning I shall be driven to the city alone by Alfred, meet Calix at the palace to wish him luck and then Alfred and I shall follow behind the Royal coach to the Black Cathedral. I feel incredibly nervous myself. Thousands of spectators will witness this event which will be broadcast to the whole city on cinematic screens and live television. It really is an historic occasion. Calix has to arrive alone in the coach, and for selfish reasons I’m glad, I hate the spotlight. He must be so terrified.
Alfred and I pull up to the palace.
“Have you seen him yet?” I ask Alfred.
“No, not yet Miss Loneheart. No one has. He’s been locked in his room all morning getting ready. He even had Jane leave his breakfast tray outside his bedroom door,” says Alfred.
“Why all this secrecy?” I ask puzzled.
“I think he wants you to see him before anyone else,” says Alfred seriously.
I walk to Calix’s room, apprehensive at his refusal to open the door, thinking perhaps nerves have got the better of him. I knock.
“Calix ,it’s me Seren,” I announce.
To my surprise, he opens the door instantly, ushering me in quickly.
When I see him I nearly fall backwards in amazement. He looks breathtaking. A vision.
He’s wearing a long black velvet robe adorned with gold and purple jewelled collar. His hair is the best I’ve ever seen it-thick, glossy and immaculate. An appropriate base for a crown to sit.
He stands confidently, noble, tall and elegant. He looks like a king, despite the fact he’s yet to have been awarded his crown.
“Well?” he asks, as I have remained silent since entering the room, taken aback by wonder at the sight of the fairytale in front of my eyes.
“Calix, you look so wonderful! Why didn’t you let anyone see you?” I ask.
“I wanted your approval first. I trust your opinion above everyone else’s, but don’t tell anyone that,” he winks at me.
“Where did you get that robe Calix? It’s so luxurious,” I ask.
“It was my Dad’s. It’s the Black Robe of the Broken. It’s only worn to momentous occasions like state banquets and the coronation of course.”
I briefly recall once seeing the King in this exact robe, however on him it looked drab and ill fitted. On Calix ,it looks like made -to -measure haute couture.
“Are you afraid?” I ask him.
“I’m a little nervous, but I feel well prepared. The scariest bit is being parted from you, riding in that coach alone,” he says sincerely.
I feel so needed and cherished.
“Oh Calix, you are so romantic. Prince Charming,” I blush.
“King Charming soon ,don’t forget. I like to think of it as just another duty to be performed, that way I don’t get overwhelmed by the vastness of the occasion,” he says sensibly.
Calix and I walk down the great staircase to the entrance of the palace.
“Well, this is the moment. You are going to be King,” I say looking deeply into his compassionate eyes.
“I know, it’s crazy. I’ll see you after the ceremony Seren,” he says, kissing my head gently.
The Black State Coach is parked inside the main palace gates. It’s beautiful, with golden edges, pulled by four glossy, black Friesian horses who are as smartly dressed in their bridles and saddles as Calix is in his black robe.
Crowds stand behind barriers, as in the funeral, only this time there is decidedly more optimism in the eyes of the citizens. I can even see a few Smiley’s holding a banner reading ‘New King, New City.’
I kiss Calix and wish him good luck. He walks dignified and nobly like a lion into his coach, flanked by security and attendants.
I locate Alfred and get into the Rolls-Royce ready to follow on behind.
I see Calix sitting in the coach and he has become a statue, untouchable and a living hero.
A prince about to be crowned. But deep inside I know that’s not the real him, that’s his duty, his job. He’s giving the people what they expect of him, performing the role perfectly.
The gates of the palace open and the coach takes off. The horses prance gracefully to their destination, seemingly equalling the prince in their sense of duty to trot in perfect step with one another whilst looking sleek and dignified.
Alfred drives slowly behind. The crowds wave miniature black flags with purple ‘B’s’.
The excitement and rarity of the occasion is evident in the air. Children wear black plastic crowns. A band is playing on the bandstand. There are far more people here for the coronation than there was for the Kings funeral.
The entrance to the Black Cathedral is lined with black carpet. The coach stops outside and the attendants open the door for Calix to step out. Two attendants hold the train of his long robe as he walks into the cathedral. Alfred and I wait until he’s gone in and then follow behind.
The cathedral is packed, almost every seat is full. Alfred and I take our place. There at the front is the ornate black throne .TV cameras and crew slightly spoil the otherwise ancient charm of the ceremony.
Calix sits on the throne. The bishop approaches him and asks him to confirm his name.
“Prince Calix Axel Blakely 1st of the City of the Broken,” he says clearly.
“Calix Axel Blakely 1st,will you now take the oath which demonstrates your promise to the City of the Broken as the King?” asks the Bishop.
“I will. I promise to rule the City of the Broken with justice and mercy, integrity and strength. I will protect its citizens, upholding the values of the city whilst considering the quality of human life. Equality and fairness will be my goal throughout my reign,” he says boldly and truthfully.
“Prince Calix Axel Blakely 1st,I will now hand you the Black Sovereigns Orb, the Black Sceptre of Truth and the Black Sceptre of Peace,” says the bishop, handing Calix these artefacts.
“Prince Calix Axel Blakely 1st,I will now crown you King of the City of the Broken,” says the Bishop, taking the large black crown(which the former King always wore) from the stand beside him and placing it effortlessly onto Calix’s head.
“King Calix Axel Blakely 1st,of the City of the Broken,” says the Bishop and an orchestra sounds, playing a victorious anthem.
Calix looks magnificent, poised and dignified, wearing the crown with ease and instinct.
Calix exit’s the Cathedral and is carried back to the palace by coach. The crowds scream
and cheer loudly, much out of their ordinary character as the newly crowned King drives past.
On returning to the palace, Calix stands on the highest balcony to watch a flypast of black planes and a parade of military personnel. Alfred and I arrive five minutes behind him and run straight up to the balcony to join him.
When I stand next to him on the balcony I feel slightly awkward and don’t really know what to say. He’s more intimidating now he’s got a crown on his head ,even though I know he’ll be humble about it. He looks so noble and grand and more mature. But he’s still my Calix.
“Oh Calix, you are a King,” I say breathlessly.
“I know! It wasn’t as scary as I thought. The bishop did most of the talking,” smiles Calix with a childlike zest that puts me at ease and makes me realize he’s still exactly the same person as he was this morning.
Planes zoom loudly over our heads and we watch enthralled, holding hands and occasionally exchanging a glance of approval towards each other. The crown gives Calix an air of authority he never had before, but it also highlights the difference between him and his Father. He carries it with far less pride and anger than his father did, wearing it for duty’s sake only and not to give himself a sense of superiority.
Calix also gets a gunfire salute, this really is a day all about him. I don’t think I’ve ever got this much attention, not even on my birthday.
After all of the pomp and pageantry, Calix and I head back indoors to the palace.
“That was amazing, it’s been such a wonderful day,” says Calix.
“I know, everything was timed to perfection. The whole day passed without a single hiccup,” I say.
Mrs. S approaches Calix as we head out into the corridor.
“Your Majesty, congratulations you were simply splendid. Your father told me to give you this on the day you were crowned King,” she says formally, holding out a white envelope with a black seal.
“What is this?” asks Calix bemused.
“I have absolutely no idea, Your Majesty. I was only instructed by your father to give it to you on the day of your coronation, long before he fell ill you understand,” she says.
“Okay, thank you,” smiles Calix graciously.
“Well open it,” I say to Calix, after Mrs. S has left.
“Okay, let’s open it in my room. So I can have some privacy,” says Calix, who’s surrounded by palace staff and well-wishers.
He’s still wearing his crown, but takes it off as soon as he gets to his room, revealing his casual attitude to being King.
He sits on his bed, and tears open the letter eagerly.
‘To my son and rightful heir, if you are reading this then you are now King. I have left in your possession the key to the room which holds the secrets of the city. You’ll know of what I refer to of course. Rule despairingly and sorrowfully my boy, Your Father,’ says Calix reading out loud.
He searches in the envelope and pulls out a tiny black key.
“Oh Calix, we can enter the room now!” I say, excited to discover the secrets that lie behind the door in the library of the Broken.
“Wow, I think my whole life has been leading up to this moment Seren. I always have longed to see what’s behind that door ever since I was a little boy,” he says, his eyes glinting excitedly.
“Let’s go now Seren,” he says abruptly.
“What? Calix, you’ve only just been crowned King, let’s bask in this celebration for today. The room can wait until tomorrow,” I say, thinking that Calix is even more intrigued than I am at this secret room.
“No Seren, it can’t wait. I have to know now,” he says ,running off down the corridor.
“Calix, wait,” I say, running to follow him.
He’s ditched his royal robe and crown. This is Calix the curious, Calix the explorer, Calix the young boy again.
We run all the way to the City of the Broken public library and I’ve become incredibly out of breath. Nearly every person we pass remarks
“Isn’t that King Calix?”
“No, it can’t be him. He’s just been crowned King. It must be a look-alike.”
I think that now that Calix has a crown to prove his royal identity, his going without it may make it easier to blend into the background.
We rush up the stone steps at the entrance of the library and a further three flights of steps inside. When we reach the final floor, my chest is heaving and I’m gasping for breath, sweat dripping down my forehead. Calix, remarkably seems totally unaffected by our mad sprint here, remaining cool and composed.
“This is it Seren. Moment of truth .I finally get to see what Dads been hiding from me all these years,” he says passionately.
He pulls back the tapestry and begins to put the key in the lock.
“Wait Calix! Are you sure you want to go through with this? What if that room reveals something you didn’t want to know?” I say urgently, thinking that the room may reveal further devious and corrupt plans by the deceased King.
“I have to do this Seren. It’ll play on my mind forever if I don’t,” he says looking pained, turning the key in the lock.
We both walk in. The room is surprisingly empty and echoes. The wooden floor boards creek, as we walk over them. The beams of the ceiling and the single window are dusty, no one has been in here for years. In the exact middle of the room, mounted on a stand, there is a solitary black book.
“The secrets of the city,” says Calix, stepping towards the book.
“Are you nervous about opening it?” I ask him.
“Yes, very. More nervous than I was at the coronation,” he smiles.
“Hold my hand,” he requests and I do.
Calix finally plucks up the courage to open the book.
The first thing that strikes me is that the book contains only one page. Calix leans in close and reads it silently to himself, blocking my view.
After a considerable pause, I speak up.
“Well Calix, what does it say?” I ask breathing heavily with anticipation.
“It’s a letter from my Mum,” he says.
“Your Mum?” I ask confused.
“Yes, a letter from her to my Dad telling him that she’s dying,” he says, sniffing slightly as though he’s tearful.
“Oh. I don’t really understand. How is that the secret to the City of the Broken?” I ask, still confused.
“It’s because it’s what broke Dad’s heart and the result of that was the City of the Broken,” he says.
“Oh I see. It’s really the last thing I was expecting,” I say to Calix, slightly shocked at the sentimental content of the room of secrets.
“There’s a little more. Beneath Mums letter is an extract that Dad has handwritten-it says ‘Only love can bring the city to life and heal the heart of the Broken’,” says Calix.
“Oh, so that’s why your Dad was so determined to keep us apart. Our love would have
completely transformed the city,” I say stunned.
“Exactly.”
We shut the book and leave the room, with Calix locking the door behind us and replacing the tapestry covering to hide the door.
“Do you want to take the book home with you? I mean its personal, it shouldn’t really be kept in a public library,” I say.
“No. We’ll leave it here. Dad must have considered it so important to the existence of the city, that he saw it as something of cultural and historical significance to be stored safely here,” says Calix wisely.
When we leave the library and walk out into the city, it dawns on me for the first time that as the King is now dead, there is now no obstacle to our love.
“Calix! We can get married now, you have the power to recruit citizens as King,” I call out delightedly.
“You are right Seren. I can’t believe the idea didn’t occur to me earlier .I was so caught up in thinking about the funeral and the coronation that I completely forgot that Dad can’t stop our wedding anymore,” he says, his eyes flashing with glee.
“Calix, recruit me, recruit me!” I say, jumping up and down and clapping my hands like a child.
“Okay, come with me to the Ministry of the Broken. You’ll have to sign a declaration form,” he says.
We walk through the gloomy city to a large black domed building, which looks official.
‘The Ministry of the Broken’ is written in gold above the double doors.
As we enter, I see secretaries typing away monotonously. Tearful and depressed would-be-citizens stand in line at the counters. One woman seems to be in dispute with a head of department.
“But I am broken enough to join. I’ve cried everyday for the past four years,” she weeps.
“I’m sorry but we’ll need some supporting evidence. Anyone could claim that they are broken.
The criteria for joining the city is increasingly selective due to such high demand to become a citizen. You‘ll need two references from acquaintances confirming your despair, alternatively a signature from the King of the City of the Broken would suffice,” says a lady in a black suit formally.
I walk up to the large black desk, behind hangs a painting of a broken heart.
“Hello, I’ve come to sign a declaration form to become a citizen of the Broken,” I say to the woman behind the desk, with Calix by my side.
“Have you been recruited by the King?” she asks sceptically.
“Yes, the newly crowned King asked me to join the city,” I respond, motioning to Calix.
“Do you have two supporting references?” she asks, still not convinced, possibly due to the fact that I currently feel ecstatic as my wedding is about to be back on.
“That won’t be necessary. I shall sign the declaration to authorise her citizenship,” interrupts Calix.
“Very well. I’ll fetch you a form right away,” she says disappearing into the room to her left.
“Oh Calix, this is so exciting. It’s like a whole new start,” I say.
“Try not to be too excited Seren or you won’t qualify for citizenship,” he whispers.
“Oh, yes of course,” I say, as the lady returns with the form.
“Please read carefully, sign and print your name and date it. But remember you’ll be broken forever if you sign,” she warns.
“Okay ,thanks,” I nod.
The form is on crisp white paper, headed in black ink ‘Application to become a citizen of the City of the Broken’.
It reads ‘I agree in signing this declaration form that I am broken, permanently depressed, despairing ,longing for something forever lost, hopeless ,hurt, morbid, outcast, rejected, lonely, unloved or a combination of all these. I understand that concealing happiness ,joy, hope, popularity or contentment will lead to my application being terminated and my being banned from entering the City of the Broken again’.
Signed:
Print Name:
Date:
Signature of Authorisation(King of the City of the Broken only):
As I read this declaration form, I’m suddenly aware that none of this applies to me anymore and I feel like a fraud. I don’t belong as a member of this city. However this results in a dilemma because if I don’t sign the form, I won’t be able to marry Calix and I will ironically then become all of the above and qualify as a citizen. It’s such a catch.
“Calix, do I need to be all of these things, can I just be one of them to qualify?” I ask, feeling that I may count as outcast.
“Yes ,as long as one strongly applies to you that’s fine,” he says officially.
“Okay. Here goes.”
I sign, S. Loneheart .I print my name and I date the form. Calix signs and I hand it to the girl at the desk, who is watching me suspiciously as though she doesn’t think I belong here.
“Okay, well we’ll process the form and you should qualify as a citizen within three working days, providing the application is valid and background checks produce a satisfactory result,” she says, her eyes glinting with supposition that I won’t pass these checks.
“Umm…okay, thanks,” I say, walking away feeling far less confident than when I came in.
“So what are these background checks?” I ask Calix, feeling like I’m being scrutinised before I’m allowed to join the city.
“Oh the Ministry will look at your school reports, criminal record, former friendships and relationships, health records and employment history to see if they can find evidence to prove that you are Broken. It’s a standard procedure but they are incredibly thorough about it,” he says.
“Should I be worried, I mean, do you think that I will pass?” I ask him.
“I can’t say for sure, but I think you will. You were always a loner and an outsider before you met me,” he smirks.
“Hey, I had some friends you know!” I assert.
“Yeah, yeah. What did your school reports say?” he asks.
“Seren is quiet, hard working and introspective. Do you think that’ll count as Broken?” I ask.
“Well it’s better than loud, happy and sociable that’s for sure,” he says.
We walk away from the Ministry and my heart is full of hope that my application will be accepted, although in this city I have learned that it’s always better to aim on the side of hopeless to get what you want.
I want to make plans for our wedding but I decide to delay that until I know for sure I’ve been successful and that the wedding can go ahead.