The Price of Greed

By Junlan

Once upon a time, there was a princess; an unusual one: the heiress of a company. And her prince wasn’t exactly Prince Charming.

“Come in, Sweetheart,” A soft voice beckoned from the depths of an oversized, crimson arm chair.

He cautiously swung open the mahogany door of the Office, which opened for him with a sigh of the ages gone by and many days of non-usage. He peered in cautiously, and smiled in relief as the young lady in the armchair smiled wanly at him.

“It’s over, Sweetheart, we’ve found it,” She sighed, gently waving him into the seat across from her. He took it, and with it, took a good look at her.

She had changed; a year’s search had taken their toll on her, the famous relic hunter’s daughter, who had been raised to take over her father’s business since the first time she shot marbles from a poisoned blow pipe. She had once been strong, fierce and proud, but now her frame clung to the armchair like an invalid to a crutch. There was none of the fierceness, the drive, that had marked her face during the first months of their expedition, and the only bit of pride left on her face was in the wane, soft, serene smile under tired and puffy eyes.

It was only to be expected though; when anybody loses Father, Mother, and three uncle figures over the course of a year, they are liable to give up. But she was strong, and with his help, they had continued their search.

Then a telegram had come, from the last living uncle figure she had. No one saw it but herself, and then, she locked herself in the megalomaniac of the Office for days. The only one who ever saw her was the maid, an austere figure who had taken care of her since birth. She had never liked him, but the fact that her Mistress loved him was enough to reconcile him to her.

Said Maid was also opening the door to deliver a cup of tea, which she sat down with a sniff; probably thinking that the vintage Earl Grey was too good for him who didn’t make a study out of teas.

“The Amber Room,” she sighed, pouring two cups of tea, first for herself, then for him, “A year of work, and five deaths later, we’ve found it.”

This was the culmination of his work. A few more words from the wretch in the armchair…, “Where is it?”

Some foreign emotion flared in her eyes and she thrust the cup towards him, “Drink,” She smiled serenely, her mask back in place, taking her own cup, “You know I have a perchance for tea when I’m going to deliver long speeches.”

Yes, she used a classic Ming dynasty tea cup to use as a crutch for her shyness. “Gladly, darling.” He took a sip with her.

“Mother was right when she suspected it to be far, far away from the Germans who stole it from them. It couldn’t be in Konisburg, nor was it destroyed, but it actually remains in the hands of British Family, who paid off Erick Koche to sell it to them for the bulk of their fortune. However, when the Soviets went to take it back, it wasn’t there. The Family who bought it went into hiding to keep the secret from coming out again, and they have disappeared from the annals of history ever since.”

“So where are they now?” An edge was present in his voice, “Where is the Amber room!” His voice echoed around the Office, as he stood up. His patience had long ended with this maddening creature, who just sat there and drunk her tea.

“In Africa, believe it or not. Well hidden, in a little village under the shadow of Kilimanjaro. They’re fairly isolated, so very little gets out. That’s why Uncle traveled there, follow the will-o-wisp of rumours,” She continued drinking her tea calmly, but over the expensive Ming dishes, she was eyeing him with eyes that were no longer tired, but calculating.

“There?” His eyes were wide with disbelief, but yet, yet…

“Uncle also found this,” She produced a crumbled piece of amber from the inside of her desk.

“By god… you’ve found it! We did it! I did it!” He rounded the table and held her tightly in his arms. He smirked over her shoulder as she folded into his arms. This would probably be the last time, unbeknownst to her.

He would be surprised with what she did know.

She let him go, wearily but triumphantly. Ostensibly calm, he kissed her hand with a tender gesture he was so used to faking before finding the errand boy to send him off with a message to his company to get there first, so they would find the Amber Room first, and exploit it for their own gain.

So feverish was he in his own actions that he neglected to notice the strange lack of activity, in a flourish as he packed his bags. He would have to leave, with Aretha, as soon as he showed the Princess of the Relic Hunters – that naïve milksop – what a complete fool she had been, to give him her heart. First, though, a note to Aretha, which he slipped under her door.

Ten minutes later, when the old bell chimed six fifteen, he made his way down to the Office in triumph. He would be the Prince this time, not some simpering archaeologist, albeit the lover of the Princess.

“Come in, Sweetheart,” She calls softly. Oh how he hated that name. She looked up in mild surprise at him as he entered, carrying his travelling valise, “Why the visit?”

“Simply, Princess,” He mocked the pet name with which he called her; “You have loved a lie. In five minutes, my own private company will be en route to Kilimanjaro, and will have already gotten a permit for that place. You will recognize the name, because it is the same one your own precious uncle connected with the deaths of all your other paternal figures.”

“You killed them?” The question was asked with a quivery voice and wide teary eyes.

“Yes, it was me, all for the sake of the amber room. I engineered their deaths, I seduced you to get closer to the core, and you know what? I seduced another one of the archaeologists to make sure everything went subtly wrong for you. I sabotaged every little thing of this mouldering, festering hulk of a legacy your foolish –,”

“That’s quite enough, sir,” She cut him off coolly, flipping a switch. It was only then did he realize that there was a small blinking light on her desk, coming from the phone. Talking into the speakers, she said, “Did you get all of that, gentlemen?”

“Yes” Came the voice, fuzzy and teary back. It spelled his doom.

“Make sure that you charge the company and conduct a thorough inspection. The CEO,” she shot a mocking smile at the man she loved, “will be dealt with by me.”

“Understood. I - ,” the old man’s words were cut off by her.

“God bless you uncle,” She said coolly, and hung up.

“Wh-what?!” He sputtered. He sat down, completely flummoxed, into the chair in which hours earlier he had heard of the news of the rise of his own people.

“Let me lay it all before you, Sir,” she said mockingly, still drinking that cold tea, “But first, drink.” She poured tea for him.

He took it, but refused to drink.

“This place is deserted. The closest people are far away. The only people left are you and me. I have won, sir,” She stared at him from the depths of the armchair, her triumphant smile finally wiped off her face.

“The Amber Room is not in Kilimanjaro. My uncle went there to investigate your company. I locked myself in seclusion for three days to see how you’d react with Aretha without me there, short of actually leaving the house. I think this note is conclusive. You were planning to kill me, weren’t you?” She threw the note across the desk.

He caught it with trembling fingers, recognizing his own writing, but not the words pouring out of his mouth, “I never wanted to kill you, I just wanted to…” On he babbled, but he knew neither of them was listening. So that was how she knew it was him at her door.

When he had finally run out of steam, she started speaking again as if he had never started, “We found out about this a month ago, after my third uncle’s death. I decided to throw away all my family’s work, so the amber room wouldn’t fall into the hands of any scoundrels like you. My parents and uncle would have approved, because this is all I can do to atone for the sin I’ve perpetuated.”

He waited with a bated breath, because he knew what the sin was. Worse enough, he was afraid he might have perpetuated himself.

“I fell in love with you, Sweetheart,” again, the smile returned, but her eyes finally started clouding with tears, “Completely, irrevocably, and forever. But I knew something had to be done, and nothing short of death would have stopped you. I didn’t love you for ten months without knowing your ruthless nature.”

He was trying to deny the implications.

“And yet, you were a good pretender,” A real smile this time, a reminiscing one, “A good one, but not the best. You would hug me, hold me, kiss me, if I asked, but you would never do anything else had propriety never demanded elsewise. I can count the number of times you said I love you first on one hand, and on the same hand, I can count the number of times you called me pretty. I don’t even need a hand to count how many times you told me I was beautiful, and that you would fight for me, not the project. But you were good enough to make me forget, at times.”

The chiming of the half hour broke the silence and pulled him out of his stupor. What was he doing? If she was going to kill him, he’d better get the gun first.

He dropped the note in the tea, watching horrified as it burned black in the water. And her coughing up blood made him realize two things: one, she was already dying.

And two, he could not bear to see her die.

“I poisoned the tea,” She said through her coughs, still smiling at him. Her desk was splattered with blood now, all the official documents dyed red.

He clutched at his own throat. “You’ll kill me!” He croaked.

“You didn’t drink nearly enough to kill you,” She smiled grimly, finally getting out of her chair, “But I did. And do you know the most ironic thing ever?”

He shook his head mutely as she went to stand by the window.

“We’re standing in the Amber room. It’s covered by these mahogany panels, but look,” Here she grabbed a piece of loose wood with her failing strength, and ripped it away to reveal shining Amber underneath, “All this time…” She coughed and stained it red with her blood.

“No, no…,” he collapsed. He didn’t know what he was so despaired about; his life’s work coming bearing no fruit like this, his own life’s end, or the fact that he would have to watch her die.

“And it will all be lost. There is a bomb in this room. It will kill you, but not me.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t bear see myself kill the man I loved,” She smiled and closed her eyes.

For the last time.

Maybe it was some crazy impulse of his that had been raised on Fairy tales. Maybe he was just crazy. But at the last minute, in a deep subterranean cavern in the Mountains of Saafield, He kissed her blood stained lips in hopes of awakening the princess.

The mountains barely shook with explosion at precisely Six forty-five. But the villagers outside knew nothing, and they all lived happily ever after.

THE END