The Caged Bird

09. Leave

The next evening, Lark was finally released by August's order. She was sent to her room in the harem but a guard was sent with her. He would be her shadow until she could regain the trust of the matron. Her lessons continued as she was asked to embroider a pattern on a muslin dress and practice a more complex waltz. A sense of normalcy returned. But she was still dissatisfied and her thoughts often strayed to the caged raven she had made. It now hung beside her bed as a reminder of her confinement. She felt a kinship to the corvid as she wandered through the opulent harem hall, surrounded by treasure but totally trapped. Her desperation to be free burned in her chest like a poison arrow. As she lost herself in thought she realized that she might have to earn the lord's trust if she wanted to have any chance to escape. She was so vulnerable and exposed, watched and scrutinized by every being in the castle. They were all aware of her failed attempt.

After dinner she found a letter on her desk along with a white rose from the garden. It was an invitation to join August for dinner. Lark was apprehensive. Was the whole harem attending? Why send an invitation? She was aware he could call on her any time. She was technically his property. But she was still furious that she had been thrown in a cell and didn't want to see him. She composed herself, remembering her earlier revelation. If he was pleased with her the pressure from the harem and matron would be lessened. She might have a chance to sneak away. Exasperated, she realized she had no choice but to attend. She stepped into the hall, followed closely by her guard. She handed him her invitation and he led her through the prison tunnel to August's wing.

She had expected to go to the main hall so was deeply unsettled as they passed her former cell. It had been emptied and the door stood open. The bare stone looked cold and unforgiving. Despite her anger she was grateful for the bed and other comforts she had been given while staying there.

They entered the dimly lit chamber and the guard brought her directly to August's solar, a small private sitting room with dark mahogany furniture and black walls. It was an oppressive space with a large portrait on the wall above the fireplace mantle. It was a woman. She had dark hair and hazel eyes. Though August himself was seated on a velvet sofa inside the solar, Lark's eyes were drawn to the portrait instead. The painting was beautifully rendered and she could tell it was probably a good likeness. The face was soft and natural and the subject was radiant. Lark thought it must be Ora. She tore her eyes from the artwork and found August. He was deeply engrossed in a book.

She sat on the matching couch across from him and glanced around the room. It had the same eerie darkness as the rest of his wing. There was a generous platter of food laid out on the low table between them. A variety of sandwiches, smoked fish, cakes, crackers and buns were arranged on a tiered tray with tea and wine in silver goblets. White rose petals decorated the black tablecloth. Candles filled the room and dripped wax onto the stone floors, creating a halo of light around them. August placed a mark in his book and set it down, nodding politely.

"Lark," he said softly in greeting. Lark inclined her head in return.

"My lord," she replied. "I appreciate your invitation."

He poured her a cup of tea and then served himself. The tea was floral and fragrant. Lark lifted her cup and saucer slowly and took a small sip. It was delicious and unlike anything Lark had ever tasted. She and August sat quietly and drank from their cups. They traded a few curious looks, but despite his invitation August seemed to have nothing to say. He cleared his throat, waving his hand over the meal on the table.

"Please do not wait for me. Help yourself."

Lark tried to eat delicately, but her hunger betrayed her.

"I regret having you put in the cell," he said suddenly. Lark paused for a moment, a sandwich between her fingers. She made eye contact, searching for a sign of his sincerity. "If you want to leave..." he hesitated. He seemed conflicted but took a deep breath and steadied himself. "I will not stop you."