Coffee Liqueur, Opium Tincture from1821, and Ginkgo Leaves

 Lorelei 230130312 刘彭泽

It was a long time after the Battle of Waterloo before I saw Charlotte again.

That wasn’t the first time I’d fallen into a coma, and perhaps not the last. But my coma experiences were mainly at sea, with the successive waves pushing against me through the wooden planks of the ship’s cabin, as if shyly, none daring to embrace me; they were all cowards. I would wake up smelling the salty sea air, perhaps to find that I had crystallized— who cared?

But this time was different. The land remained motionless, silently supporting me as I rudely prodded it with four wooden sticks. Yet I was utterly ungrateful, especially when I felt I had completely lost control of my right arm—a kind of numbness. This old companion of mine, which had been with me for forty years, was locked in a stalemate with me, yet I distinctly felt it touching the coffee cup on the bedside table, the one I wanted to reach. I no longer liked this sensation of warmth within the coldness; it reminded me of the blood surging beneath Charlotte’s blue-tinged neck and the salty tears she shed. How could I have this feeling? I hadn’t even touched the cup!

The stalemate continued until Charlotte pushed the door open. I quickly narrowed my eyes. Did this sudden feeling of panic indicate that I was a pervert who enjoyed peeking at the princess? If so, why was my entire face burning, as if it were being steamed, and why did it feel like steam was about to pour out of the two holes above my nose?

She looked exhausted, but her steps were still light. Thank goodness she didn’t seem to be collapsing from exhaustion after walking for six days while dragging me along, but she absolutely shouldn’t be taking care of me! Doesn’t this foolish young girl have any self-awareness? Why would she save someone who was determined to die? Look at her! Carrying oatmeal and tapioca pudding, who does she think she is? Oh, she’s wearing a pair of gold earrings, shaped like leaves, swaying as she walks as if blown by the wind.

Arthur cleared his throat, which allowed me to quickly correct my gaze before it became as vacant as a goldfish’s.

“I must remind you; this is the princess’s last public appearance outside of royal events this year. It’s one thing if you don’t dance with anyone else, but not even with Charlotte?”

While I hesitated, the opportunity was snatched away. Prince Orange, with his gloved, healthy right arm, gallantly led her onto the dance floor, looking as triumphant as a victorious donkey.

“I said… Nate? Are you listening?”

No, my old dog Wellington, no!

I roared at him in my mind, but I couldn’t spare any energy to deal with him— Charlotte was dancing a waltz, she was still so beautiful, so vulnerable, the fear and helplessness that heart-wrenching vulnerability had disappeared. She twirled gracefully, the gold earrings on her ears looked like golden chains of flowers, or perhaps ginkgo leaves? Lady Jersey’s crystal chandelier was too bright under her radiance, making it impossible for me to ever see the true light source. Wait, is she coming over? If I were the Prince of Orange, I would kneel down in public right now and propose to her. He’s not like us ordinary nobles who could be exiled by that old man George IV!

She’s getting closer, is she thirsty? Your Highness, do you want lemonade or champagne? No, you shouldn’t go yourself, you spoiled little rascal, you should have a gentleman, one of your vassals, go for you—

Oh dear, oh dear.

She’s walking towards me, step by step, will she come and talk to me?

Will she even glance at me?

The apple brandy made my heart swell and turn pale, weighing heavily and painfully in my chest.

She was getting closer, so close that I could see her in profile as if she were talking to the Duke and Duchess of Richmond who were approaching. Why were they walking so slowly? No, no…

I couldn’t help but utter her hateful, sacred name, the name that had been kicking and thrashing in my heart all this time:

“Charlotte.”

She turned around abruptly, her cascading ginkgo leaf earrings clinking against her neck. She searched blankly, finally fixing her gaze on me.

The swaying golden earrings,

The swaying heart of mine.