The Lark's Pearl

Clara has a million and ten questions for me when I appear in our shared room, from a wall behind one of the beds. Of course, Elias takes the opportunity to greet her before he slips away.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he tells me before disappearing into the darkness.

“He took you through the secret passageways!” Clara squeals, grabbing me by the hand as she drags me to bed. “Is hoping to see you tonight, and has gone out of his way to bring you here. Ariabella, you expect a proposal very soon.”

We share a giggle; of course, I cannot tell Clara that I am already expecting a proposal from Elias. I can’t express to her all he confided to me just a few hours ago.

“Has he kissed you?” she asks, lowering her voice while glancing at the closed door. “If he hasn’t, he has excellent self-control.”

I touch my lips. Probably shouldn’t have done this because now Clara is squealing louder. Thankfully, to my embarrassment, no one comes running to ask what is wrong.

“Contain yourself,” I whisper, slapping her on the arm. “Yes, we’ve kissed.”

“Ariabella…” she giggles and shakes her head as she covers her mouth, but her smile is visible through her fingers. “How was it?”

“How was what?”

“The kiss? Did it seem like he knew what he was doing? Was it his first kiss? Was it your first kiss?”

“So many questions…”

Clara helps me cinch my corset and ties it off before removing the cloth curlers from my hair.

“You are going to be the centerpiece at the ball, tonight,” she says, smiling at me in the mirror’s reflection. “The prince will surely dance with you all night.”

“I’ll trip all over his feet,” I say, “I have not learned to dance much.”

“You at least know the traditional dance of Evæqesta, right?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then you needn’t worry much. If he chooses a different dance, he will show you how the steps.”

I sigh, nodding; my now loose curls bouncing with the motion. Clara then unrolls a cloth pouch, revealing her face powders and lip paints. She then turns me on the cushioned stool so I cannot see my reflection.

“I am only going highlight the rouge in your cheeks,” she says, removing the lid of a pinkish powder.

A few moments later, Clara turns me back to the mirror. I smile at my reflection.

“I think you should wear the green satin gown,” she tells me, going to the wardrobe. “The one given to you by the king from your last visit.”

“Green does seem to suit me,” I say, rising from the stool. “What about you? What are you planning to wear?”

“I have a blue dress my mother let me have.”

“You could borrow one of mine. Obvious, I won’t wear all of them. I have a blue one.”

“Blue,” Clara hums turning to me with the green gown. “Because I’m descended from pixies?”

“Yes, precisely.”

We share a smile at the private joke.

I am the only one in my family without an escort. Mother has Father leading her into the ballroom; Clara is attached to Erik’s arm with a smile of pure glee. However, I know Elias has every intention of appearing and making a spectacle of asking me to dance. It is just his way.

The herald leads us through the center of the crowd, stepping to the side when we reach the king and the two thrones. King Adrian smiles as we all bow.

“Ariabella!” he says once I’ve straightened. “You and your family are most welcome.”

“The honor is ours, your majesty,” I reply, clenching my dress skirt in my hands.

“Have you no escort? I see each of your family is paired with someone…”

“Allow me to oblige,” Elias cuts in, rising from his seat and approaching me, hand extended. “A lady should never be without a dance partner.”

I dip in a curtsy, carefully placing my hand in his palm. He looks handsome, wearing a sash of the same shade of green as my gown. Then I hear the muffled voices and whispers from the surrounding guests. However, Elias gives me an easy smile, and the murmurs fade away.

“Who can refuse the prince,” I say as he tightens his grip.

“No one,” he says, wrapping my hand in the crook of his elbow and leading me away to a table of refreshments. “Now, don’t drink it too quickly, but I requested this special wine with you in mind.”

“Oh, did you? And what kind of wine is it?”

He directs the server to fill a cup. The young woman smiles at me, taking a large dipping spoon from an even larger bowl of purple-red liquid. Bubbles rise to the surface as the cup is placed in my hand.

“Sip gradually,” Elias says, watching me.

I bring the cup to my lips, holding his gaze as the liquid touches my tongue. I swirl it around my mouth before swallowing. It tastes of fruit and the bubbles tickle my throat.

“Oh,” I say as a sharpness rises along my tongue. “That’s interesting… I don’t care for much wine, but this is lovely.”

“Splendid,” Elias grins and guides me to the next table. This one has a fountain, dispensing a thick, shiny-brown substance and is surrounded by plates filled with fresh berries.

“Now try this,” he goes on, picking up a fork and stabbing a strawberry. “Dip the berry under the chocolate.”

“You’ll spoil me,” I whisper, staring at the chocolate fountain.

“As I have mentioned before, I doubt you could ever become spoiled.”

“Your highness?”

We both turn to Charlotte, whose gaze is an exact replica to the one she wore when she found us in the library.

“I wished to apologize for my informal appearance this afternoon,” she says; she seems as tense as I feel anxious. “I was told I could see the palace and… well, you know what happened in the library.”

“Yes, it was quite an encounter, wasn’t it?” Elias asks, suddenly holding a plate of chocolate-covered berries. “I do hope you understand that I-”

“That you have made your choice and I respect it.”

Charlotte smiles and dips into a curtsy before skittering off to the other side of the room. However, a crowd forms around us. Everyone trying to speak over the other, wanting Elias’ attention.

“Let us all dance!” he says, setting the plate aside and taking my glass from me. “Maestro, the Dance of Evæqesta, if you please!”

He takes my hand and pulls me to the center of the room. The orchestra plays their tuning note and then I hear the conductor tapping his baton. I exhale as the opening notes of the familiar anthem fill the ballroom.

“Breathe,” Elias says, giving my hand a gentle shake. “It’s just you and me… and your parents.”

I pinch my lips together, glancing down the line. Mother smiles; Father winks and I can tell he holding back tears. It is the gasps of surrounding dancers that confuse me. I glance at each person. I find Clara and Erik standing by; Clara is beaming and bouncing on her feet. If at all possible, Erik’s jaw could very well be on the floor.

“Look!” he mouths, repeatedly pointing in my direction.

I turn back to Elias, hoping to ask him what everyone is looking at. Only to find him on his knee with a pearl extended to me.