The Lark's Pearl

Mother has put me to work, removing the husks of newly harvested corn. She sits beside me, shucking peas from their pods. The sun is beginning to set, spreading golden, orange light across the plains. A gentle breeze blows through the grass, distracting me from my task.

“Did you enjoy your time with Clara?” Mother asks as she reaches for a new bunch of green pods.

“Yes,” I reply, grunting as I yank a cob from the husk. “I see why Erik is in love with her.”

Clara’s advice enters my mind.

“The Lark didn’t come,” I say, dropping the clean corn into the basket between us and reaching for another. “And the day before, I did not show you it, but he brought me another pearl… I chose not to show you because I thought you might ask me if I was lying again.”

“I see.”

“And it just seems silly you would ever think I was because I am your own daughter.”

Tears are forming in my eyes now. I clench my hands around the ear of corn.

“Tis only a bird, but that bird is my friend…”

I drop the corn into the pile of husks, unable to continue. Something touches my shoulders and I turn to my mother’s gaze.

“I question you because I know the difficulties of revealing your heart to your mother,” she whispers, wrapping her arms me and embracing me close to her breast. “I thought you might have been secretly meeting a boy… that you would be afraid to share such news and would cover it up with a story.”

I pull away and look into her eyes.

“I share everything with you,” I whisper back, shaking my head. “Apart from your questioning, I never thought I needed to hide anything from you… I thought you trusted me.”

Mother frowns, “Ariabella, I do trust you. Perhaps I should have trusted you more. I’m sorry I made you believe otherwise. I love and care for you dearly. You must know.”

“I do know.”

I hug her again. Her comforting warmth surrounds me. And for the moment, I am content with the silence.

When a thought hits me.

“Do you think Clara would like a set of pearl earrings?” I ask, wiping my cheeks as I pull away. “I might have a matching pair and they would make a lovely wedding present. When Erik finally announces, of course.”

Mother smiles, “I think that is a wonderful idea. I will ask your father to take us into town and we can meet with the jeweler.”

“Would the jeweler accept pearls for payment?”

“I do not see why they wouldn’t…”

She sighs, pinching her lips closed.

“They were a gift from someone special,” I say as if my spontaneous statement has been prior rehearsed. “I wish to have a pair of earrings set. I will give a payment of five additional pearls for the work. The greatest of value in my possession.”

Mother’s expression is thoughtful. Tilting her head to one side.

I am quick to add, “Or something like that?”

She smiles, “You will know what to say when the moment arrives. For now, I think it is time I apologize to you for requiring you to hide your gift from your father. It was wrong of me.”

“I am sure he will forgive you,” I reply, turning back to the corn. “As he has already forgiven me.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrug, “I could not keep it from him. I told him of the Lark and the pearls some time ago.”

“Have you? What was his reaction?”

“He asked if they belonged to someone and I told him the same I always told you. He then said we do live in a magical land.”

Mother laughs, “Of course, he would say that.”

“Perhaps the pearls are an anomaly. A result of the constant changing of the land.”

“Perhaps.”

I steal a glance at my mother, but she has returned to the peas.

“Oh, these would be lovely,” I say, holding up two pearls of matching size and color.

“Those are beautiful,” says Mother as she leans closer to see. “Ariabella, this really is a sweet thing you are doing. But are you sure you are willing to part with-”

“They are remaining within the family,” I tell her, reaching into the box for the new pouch I made, with Clara’s name sewn into the fabric with pink thread. “Also, they are going to collect dust if I do not do something with them. Do you think I could fetch a decent price for them?”

“Is that what you want to do?”

I frown, “No, but then I could help pay for the things we cannot afford. Father’s boots have holes in them and Erik will need a new shirt. Or you-”

“Ariabella,” Mother says, calmly touching my chin and making me look at her. “You are a good daughter. But you need not worry about such things. It is the duty of parents to provide for their children… and when we have grown old, with need, then you can think of how to help us. For now, keep your treasures. We are not in Poverty’s path as of yet.”

I breathe in deep, letting it slowly with a nod.

“Alright,” I say, “but they could help us.”

A gentle knock on the door startles us. Mother closes the box and pushes it behind me. Her abrupt actions puzzle me, but I allow her the benefit of the doubt.

“Come in,” I say, facing the door.

It opens and my brother pokes his head in. At first, his eyes question the scene before him. But he seems to push his thoughts aside and smiles.

“Clara’s father gave me his blessing,” he says as his cheeks turn pink. “I am going to ask for her hand in marriage tomorrow.”

Mother gasps and rises to embrace him. My well with tears of joy. When it is my turn, I rise from the bed and wrap my arms around Erik’s shoulders.

“I am so happy for you,” I whisper, tightening my embrace. “But I will miss you terribly when you are gone.”

“I do not intend to move far away,” he chuckles, pulling back. “Father still needs help on the farm and if I can help it, I will be here every day.”

I nod, “I really am happy for you. Clara is lovely.”

“And she said she could not wait to spend more time with you.”

“And I with her.”

I sneak away to the stream. I wait for many hours before coming to the conclusion my little friend is not coming. Tears roll down my cheeks as I face the coming sunset. The spray of deep purple, pink, and orange is beautiful, but I am unable to appreciate it for I am drowning in my sorrows.

The kingdom of Evæqesta has many towns and cities, of which many have been named after the sovereigns who once ruled the land.

The nearest is the town of Vratha, a half-day wagon ride from home. Always lively with the voices of strangers selling their wares. Various animals crowd the streets as they are taken from shop to shop, the owners in seek of the better price.

Mother keeps her hand on my elbow, guiding me toward our destination. I rarely come to town, but I am always fascinated by the sights, smells, and sounds.

“Here we are,” Mother says as we stop in front of a building with a large sign overhead. Larksman Jewelers.

“Larksman?” I ask as we move to the front door. “Mother, the sign says Larksman.”

“Yes, the royal crest has a lark on it and many shops here capitalize on the fact,” she explains as we enter.

A bell rings over our heads as the doors wings open, and then closed. The scent of lavender and vanilla fills the air. The long room is full of wooden counters with glass windows, each displaying a selection of different items on plush, blue-satin cushions.

“Good morning!”

I turn to the owner of the cheerful voice, smiling at the middle-aged woman behind the furthest counter.

“How may I serve you today?” she asks as Mother and I approach her.

“My daughter wishes to have a pair of earrings made,” Mother explains, reaching into her little bag and producing the small pouch of pearls. “With these pearls, if you please.”

“Oh, lovely,” the woman pulls a pair of spectacles from atop her frizzled, peppered hair. “My husband loves making custom pieces. Is there a particular design or style you are looking for, miss?”

With gentle hands, she takes the pouch, untying the drawstring and pouring the pearls into her palm.

“Actually,” I reply, resting my wrists on the counter. “I’ve never had a pair made before. I wish to give these earrings to my brother’s betrothed as a wedding present. What do you recommend?”

The woman examines the pearls with a thoughtful expression.

“Such beautiful gems,” she says with awe in her voice. “May I ask how you came by them?”

“They were a gift,” I say, nodding. “From someone who I have not seen in some time.”

A soft pain fills my chest as I glance at my mother, and sigh. Mother tilts her head to the side. This is the first time she is learning about Lark’s absence.

“And you are certain you wish to part with them? Not that it is any of my business.”

“My future sister-in-law is a wonderful person and deserves the best I have to offer,” I explain, looking back at the woman with a smile. “These pearls are the best I have and I want to give them to her.”

The woman nods, “As you wish.”