#ch.saya

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟏  𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞   |   VARIOUS LOCATIONS, DECEMBER 1990

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

‎‎‎‎‎ ❛ The banality of human tragedy wasn’t enough for a princess. Some may have said it was an insult. The publishers, insatiable in their hunger for a story, chased answers. They would force slippery, delicate reality into the shackles of narrative. They would explain the unexplainable. Numerous leads bubbled forth in the immediate days following the event. At first, they came as a respectful trickle of whispers. Then, they came in a loud burst that could fill the amorphous space between breaking news and solemn coverage of a state funeral. Most of the claims were false: the queen had held the gaze of an owl twenty days prior; a storm had thrown and scattered stones in an ominous glyph; waterway residents had heard plaintive weeping from the water before the disappearance; a daykeeper sent a letter to the palace warning the mountains were shaking with longing; the princess was terrified of water and had diligently avoided it before this fateful outing. The latter was true.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜��𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

It wasn’t moving water that paralyzed her. She had appreciated the crashing of beach waves and the foaming, rushing flow of rivers. The waterfalls in Yaas had captivated her. The problem was still water. Placid and smooth, the expanses of lakes and ponds and swimming pools unsettled her to the core. Others saw them as gentle and inviting; these comely traits, to her, were the duplicity inherent to any natural danger.

As with many fears, this one had been formative. These bodies summoned memories of gasping and flailing—a visceral recollection of the moment in which her swimming education both began and ended. The publishers would report that she refused to bathe in tubs or put her face beneath a shower head. These details were embellishments, but they knitted together the perfect narrative to rendered the death star-crossed, inevitable, and shadowing even in the unobstructed light of day. With such winking glints of absurdity, a deluge of articles teased intrigue from something utterly ordinary.

Indeed, that was the wretched truth with which the family had to contend, even as days of newsprint consoled the public with fantasy. Once the body was recovered a few hours later, the coroner called it what her fellow passengers had assumed: an accident. People drowned in Uspana every day. Such a demise was considered divinely favored, and the context—the story that underwrote it—didn’t matter. The mountains claimed their favorites regardless of whether their lungs filled with a few inches of bathwater or deep inhales of Canarís Bay saltwater. These favorites were regular people. They were also, from time to time, royalty.

The cause was misadventure, not malevolence.

Still, when Beatriz stumbled over to the telephone on the day she received the news, she took a deep breath to steady herself and said with conviction, “Arnaut, he's finally killed her. Please come home.”

TRANSCRIPT:

[A] Boating? Seriously? [S] New yacht, too. He named it the Safyanora. Sweet, isn't it?

[A] I just can't believe he convinced you to go on it. [S] Me either.

[S] We've been giving each other space for a few weeks. [A] Is that what you call it?

[S] I should put in effort, you know? Be forgiving. [A] You do. You are. The problem is when he takes advantage of it, which is every single time.

[S] Friends will be there with us. There'll be no fighting—not the terribly unfun kind, anyway. [A] {Sighs.}

[A] And you're still not wearing the ring?

[S] For now. We'll see how I feel after this trip. [A] Uh huh.

[S] He promised a romantic getaway! Maybe that's what I need. [A] It's true. You work too much.

[S] No, you don't work enough—[A] Hold on. Someone's here.

[S] I can let you go … I do have work to do. [A] {Chuckling.}

[A] Abelina, tell Auntie hello. [AB] Hi Safy! [S] Hello, baby girl.

[A] It's bedtime story o'clock, unfortunately. [S] I'll call you when I'm home in a few days. [A] Good. I love you. Have fun. [S] I love you, too. Goodnight.

[S] {V.O.} Hi Mama. Sorry I missed you.

[S] {V.O.} We arrived in Intizara a couple days ago. There were more cameras than usual. It was disconcerting.

[S] {V.O.} Anyway, I'm calling you from the water.

[S] {V.O.} Aren't you proud of me? {Chuckles.}

[S] {V.O.} Manuel and Eita are with us.

[S] {V.O.} We're having fun, all of us.

[S] {V.O.} I needed this.

[S] {V.O.} We needed this.

[S] {V.O.} I know you don't want to hear it, but he's making an effort.

[S] {V.O.} I feel hopeful. Call me back. I love you.

[B] {V.O.} This is not a message for voicemail.

[B] {V.O.} I wish you had come to the phone just this once.

[B] {V.O.} How do I say this? It's unspeakable.

[B] {V.O.} {Sighs.}

[B] {V.O.} Arnaut, he's finally killed her.

[B] {V.O.} Please come home.