The Lark's Pearl

A banquet. In the palace. I have been invited to the king’s banquet.

“What?”

I gasp as I am led through a long hallway and into a guest suite. Mother follows closely beside me. We will change into proper dining gowns. We will share a meal with the king, the prince, and all the royal officials.

Looking at Mother, I make my eyes wide. She reaches for my hand, squeezing it softly.

“I shall return with your new gowns shortly,” says the servant, dipping in a curtsy before she prances out of the room.

“Mother,” I say, keeping my voice level as I stare at her. “What is happening? You keep puzzling me with riddles and snippets of information that make no sense. How did you know the king would believe my story about the Lark?”

She sighs, “It is as I said, the queen loved larks. The king made them the symbol of Evæqesta. The queen perished shortly after childbirth and the king named the prince after the bird…”

“Is it common knowledge?” I ask as my imagination recreates the prince’s eyes.

“No… I worked for the queen up until I met your father. The prince was born a year before your brother.”

I am about to ask why I have not been told any of this when the servant returns. She is followed by another young woman with her arms full of different-colored gowns.

“His Majesty wishes for you to adorn yourselves with one of the gowns,” she says with a giggle. “And you may keep them all, he says.”

“We can assist you if you wish,” says the second servant smiling as she places the garments on a nearby chair.

“Please, allow me a moment alone with my daughter,” Mother says and the servants run off. “Ariabella-” she steps toward me, cupping my face in her hands. “I understand this is all confusing and perhaps I should have shared certain stories with you sooner. But this is an opportunity for you to be in the royal court. To mingle with the prince.”

“Do you mean to say you want me to catch the prince’s attention?”

I gape at her.

“What mother wouldn’t like to see her daughter become a princess?” she counters, smiling. “Get dressed; let’s not make the king wait.”

I do not know the first thing about proper palace behavior. Of course, Mother’s only instructions are to be me and maintain the same respectful nature I held in the throne room. Easier said than done.

The herald announces my name as Mother and I are led into a large hall. Courtiers and royal officials of all ranks turn their gazes in my direction. I dip my head with my body as I curtsy. The familiar shadow approaches and I wait for the king to speak.

“I am pleased you accepted my invitation, Ariabella,” he says and I meet his gaze.

“I am honored to have received your invitation, your majesty,” I reply, offering what I hope is an easy smile. “This is not an experience I’ve had before…”

“I believe all people should experience something at least once.”

The prince appears, catching me off guard. He is wearing a crown, very similar to the one the king wore just hours ago. His dark hair covers the left side of his face. Probably to hide the tattoo. I dip into another curtsy.

“Elias, please make our guest feel welcome,” says the king as he turns to speak with my mother.

“Ariabella, like the flower, correct?” the prince asks, offering me an arm.

I stare at it, hesitant.

“Like the flower,” I reply, placing my fingers in the crook of his elbow. “My father says I was born with hair that reminded him of it, thus the name was chosen.”

“Intriguing. We have a garden in the South courtyard full of them…”

We walk toward the far end of the hall. Our exchange is civil. My nerves are going away as the steady conversation puts me at ease.

“Your Highness, what a pleasure to be part of tonight's festivities.”

A young woman in blue appears. She fixes me with a look before offering the prince an all-too-bright smile.

“Father wished he could come,” she says, touching the prince’s chest and letting her hand linger. “But business keeps him away… I am unaccompanied tonight.”

“Shame,” says the prince as he calmly moves her hand away. “I enjoy speaking to your father.”

He then turns to me and says, “Baron Jothwoo is in charge of the news-press. He helps spread the word across all of Evæqesta.”

“Oh,” I nod and smile at the young woman. “I’ve been quite sheltered. I hardly visit the town, let alone the palace.”

She doesn’t smile in return. Peculiar.

“Excuse us,” the prince says, leading me to a different part of the room. “You will have to forgive Elise, her father is a favorite in court and she is not afraid to use the knowledge to her advantage.”

“Oh.”

The prince glances behind us, chuckling as he brings me behind one of the pillars.

“It’s alright to feel a little intimidated,” he says, turning so we are face to face. “And yes, this is not normal behavior for me, but I wish for you to understand something.”

I nod but say nothing, letting him go on.

“I rarely let people see this,” he says, moving his hair to reveal the tattoo. “I have only had it a little over a year… but Father thinks it is best to not share it with too many others. Can you keep my secret?”

I watch him for a moment. His smile is playful as he leans against the pillar. He does not appear angry and I do not feel threatened by his request.

“I’ve never received such a genuine question before,” I say, tilting my head as I look at the bird tattoo. “Because you’ve asked, not just because you are the prince and you have every right to command me to keep your secret… Your secret is safe with me. Dare I ask what kind of bird it is meant to be?”

His smile brightens, “It is a Lark, Ariabella. A Lark who loves shiny things.”

My jaw falls open as he chuckles and moves around the pillar.

A grand feast of roasted pheasant, hot soup, and vibrant vegetables is set on the largest, longest table I have ever seen. I am seated to the left of the king, at the head of the table. The prince is across from me. A teasing smile holds his face captive. I do not know what to make of it. His statement about birds loving shiny things. More specifically, a Lark that likes shiny things.

“Is there something wrong, Ariabella?” the king asks before drinking from his golden cup.

“Oh, no,” I reply, shaking my head. “It is all so glamorous. I suppose I do not know where to begin.”

He chuckles, “I understand. May I suggest you try the soup first? This one happens to be my son’s favorite. It is made with broccoli and mushrooms.”

King Adrian signals the servant assigned to my place. The man rearranges the plates and the forks, setting the soup bowl and appropriate spoon in front of me. I thank him and pick up the spoon. I dip the spoon into the soup and bring the mouthful to my lips, leaning forward.

The creamy substance touches my tongue, warming my gums. Earthy with a touch of saltiness. It melts away and flows down my throat. I make my eyes wide and lick my lips.

“Wow,” I say, “that is delicious. I’ve never had anything like it.”

“I shall have the cooks give you the recipe to bring home,” Prince Elias says with a smile.

I return the smile and go back to the soup. I do my best to avoid making a mess. I catch the prince watching me and he points to the right side of his chin. I gasp softly and use the drop cloth from my lap to dab my chin clean. He grins, giving me a thumbs-up before turning to the person on his right.

I wish it were me sitting there.