The Lark's Pearl

For several days, I go to the stream expecting Elias, but he doesn’t come. I understand he has many duties as the prince, and yet I cannot help my disappointment. It shows when I enter the house and remove my thick, leather boots. They are caked with mud, evidence of the heavy rains we’ve been having. I then remove my coat and hang it with the others. I then pull on my indoor clippers, made from the thick hide of the oxen Father raises.

Like the storm outside, there is darkness hovering. I go to the fireplace and sit on the hearth, hands out to absorb the heat.

“I rarely see you with a frown.”

Erik appears beside me, tapping his bare toes near the fire.

“Care to share?” he asks, nudging his shoulder against mine.

“I don’t know,” I reply, shrugging. “What advice can you give to someone who… who has met her first love and hasn’t seen him in several days?”

I glance at my brother. His expression is thoughtful, even though, at first, I feel like he might tease me. But he doesn’t.

“Does this first love have anything to do with the pearls?” he asks, lowering his voice a smidgen. “And perhaps the Lark?”

“Yes,” I say, nodding.

“Is the Lark a person?”

“He revealed his true identity only recently.”

“And you’ve not seen him in how many days?”

“I’ve lost count.”

Erik chuckles, “I see. Well, yes; you are definitely in the stages of being in love. I suppose the only advice I can give you is to hold firm and he will visit when he can… You know, when I first began courting Clara, there were days I wanted so badly to call upon her, but Father needed me here.”

I nod, “Then… say this person hopes to consider himself a suitor… but he is of a high rank and it is possible his position would make people question his choice…”

I trail off, unsure of how to explain it all. But I do not have a chance to go on. The shrill neighing of horses fills the air. The clatter of carriage wheels grows louder. Erik and I rise to our feet as if the house were on fire. We hurry to the front door, and Erik swings it open. I gasp when I see the royal carriage coming to a halt.

“Great heavens,” Erik says with a chuckle. “I guess you needn’t worry now. You were referring to the prince, right?”

He’s here. Elias is here, in my house. He is talking to Father while Mother serves him a hot drink. Erik is standing behind my chair, across the table from Elias. Of course, I am speechless; I do not know what to do or say.

“It is truly an honor to have you in our home, your highness,” Father says as Mother also gives him a hot drink.

“The pleasure is mine,” Elias replies, his smile triggers the butterflies in my stomach. “And thank you for opening your door to me.”

“What kind of people would we be if we didn’t invite you in,” Mother says as she takes her own seat. “What brings you out here, and on such a rainy day?”

“Well, I wanted to personally extend an invitation to your family, to come to the palace for the Winter Festival.”

Mother releases an excited gasp as she turns her intense gaze at me. I am trying to avoid making eye contact with Elias, but it is truly difficult to not look at him. His presence demands attention.

“That sounds wonderful,” says Father, oblivious to Mother’s not-so-subtle hints. “I believe I speak for everyone when I say we would be delighted to attend.”

“Would I be allowed to invite a personal guest?” Erik asks, moving around to stand closer to Father. “A plus-one, if you will.”

“Of course!” Elias replies, nodding. “Whoever you wish. Also, please understand that you are coming as my guest of honor. So whatever you need, simply ask.”

He rises from the table and the rest of us who are seated follow suit. Elias shakes hands with both Father and Erik. He bows his head to Mother, saving his smile for last. For me.

“A carriage will be here in two days to bring you to the palace,” he says before leaving.

Mother and Father have not stopped talking since Elias left. Erik has hurried to town to ask Clara if she will to join us. I am hiding in my room. For what reason, I do not know.

“Is it possible?” Father asks while helping Mother set the table for supper.

“It is more than possible,” Mother replies; I only hear fragments as I have my bedroom door partially closed.

“Could you imagine?”

“I have long imagined, but-”

“But that’s all you’ve done. Imagine.”

“Yes.”

“Are you certain?”

“I allowed everything to happen on its own… Supper is ready, Ariabella!”

Later, after Erik has returned with Clara, I am packing my new luggage. The one given to me at the palace, with all my new gowns. Clara is keeping me company while the rest of the family prepares their things.

“So exciting,” she says; she is sitting at the foot of the bed. “I’ve only seen the palace from afar.”

“You will love it,” I tell her, smiling as I pass my hand over the bottom of my drawer.

When my skin touched the cold metal, I wrap the key in my fingers and bring it close to my chest. Should I bring any of the pearls?

“Clara,” I say, turning with the key in my hand. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Is it life-threatening?” she asks, her eyes flickering to the key.

“No.”

“Will your parents receive a shock if they learned of this secret?”

“Not when they already know it.”

She giggles, “Then yes, I can keep a secret.”

I smile, sighing as I sit beside her.

“I can only reveal part of the secret,” I tell her, “but you will learn the rest very soon… I ordered a wedding present for you. With a set of pearls given to me from the Lark.”

I watch Clara, waiting to see how she will react. Her blue eyes grow wide, her cheeks are rosy pink. She smiles, tilting her head while staring at the key now.

“That’s why you were at the palace,” she says with a soft tone. “The jeweler didn’t believe your story and reported the possession.”

“Yes.”

“But… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why give me something as precious as that?”

“Because I wanted to… And they will look lovely with your gown when you choose it.”

Clara looks at me, eyes watery and wide. She pulls me into a hug, squeezing tight but gently.

“Erik is blessed to have you for a sister,” she whispers; her voice breaks. “I am blessed to call you my sister.”

I smile, “I’m glad…”

I lay awake in bed. Clara is beside me, sleeping soundly. I am breathing slowly and extra softly. I don’t want to wake her. The moon is shining in the window. I might say the night is peaceful, were it not for the nervous feeling in my stomach.

I roll over, staring out the window. The curtains flow upward in a steady rhythm. Up then down. Over and over. The moonbeams are disrupted by a shadow. Small and easily recognizable. The signature song fills my ears. And then comes his voice.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“And you are supposed to be at the palace,” I reply, slipping out of bed and creeping toward the window.

Elias is standing outside. The moon creates a halo of silver light behind him; his face is hidden in shadows, but his smile is not.

“I am, technically, staying at the Vratha Inn,” he says with a soft chuckle, resting his arms on the window sill. “I had other business to tend in town before continuing on tomorrow morning… Who is in there with you?”

“My brother’s betrothed,” I whisper, “his plus-one.”

“Ah, the one you were getting the gift for.”

Silence envelops us. His shoulders are bare, reflecting the silver moonlight. I step backward as my cheeks grow warm.

“What?” he asks; his smile grows wider.

“I think I should try and sleep now,” I reply, biting my lip. “And aren’t you cold?”

He chuckles, “Ah, I see… Yes, I am a little cold. And yes, I think you should try and sleep, though I would happily stay here talking to you.”

“I would, too… Goodnight, Elias.”

“Goodnight, Ariabella.”

He ducks and then I hear the rapid flapping of wings. His Lark form zips upward and I move closer to watch him disappear into the night.