The Caged Bird

11. The Meeting

August's elegant writing was bold and large on the page, quite different from his personality. He seemed to have replied in a hurry, dashing his pen all the way off of the parchment. The message was brief, but Lark could feel a longing surge through her as she remembered their last encounter.

I am pleased to hear it.

Are you available to meet me at the dock tonight?

Lark sighed heavily. It would be unwise to refuse. She was hesitant to be so close to the castle, but fond memories filled her head and made her consider that she did wish to see him. He had given her the freedom she had craved for so long. She wanted to thank him. There was nothing material she could offer, but she could give her time. She scribbled a reply on the bottom of the letter.

Yes.

She sent a stable boy to deliver it and changed into a more suitable gown. Her daily duties were complete and she informed her employers that she would return after dark. They did not intervene but told her to be careful. Despite the lack of known rogues in the area they could still be lurking in the shadows. She pinned her hair up off her shoulders, pulled on her cloak, and went to the barn to prepare her horse. The dappled mare greeted her happily. The animal had been spoiled by weeks of grazing and napping in the sun but she was still ready to ride as Lark slid a saddle and blanket onto her back. They took off towards the lake and waited patiently at the water's edge near the castle's bridges. Lark twisted her necklace in her fingers nervously. She had never removed the bird pendant and wore daily, only taking it off to bathe. The gold and gem still glittered in the diminishing sunlight. As the light faded she turned her attention to the castle itself. But August did not emerge. Beginning to feel foolish, she paced the road anxiously as her mare watched her lazily. But as the night deepened and she prepared to return home, the lord finally arrived.

He had slipped out of the castle without guards, choosing a small hidden entrance to avoid the conspicuous lowering of the drawbridge which was likely to attract attention. He nearly frightened her as he seemed to appear at her side out of nowhere but she was able to regain her composure. He bowed and she curtsied in return.

"Lark," he said softly. He reached out and took her hand. She blushed but did not pull away.

"My lord," she replied. August glanced down at her necklace and seemed surprised and gratified that she still wore his gift.

"You came," he whispered. She nodded.

"Of course," she said. "You asked me to come. You are the lord of this kingdom. I could not refuse."

His face clouded over. He was used to villagers, servants, pets, and even his peers referencing his title in this way. But sometimes it was a burden. Lark noticed his expression had soured as he released her hand gazed out over the water.

"Did you want to see me?" he asked.

Lark studied his face. It seemed tired and forlorn. He turned and their eyes met. A silent moment passed as his eyes seemed to look past her into her consciousness. She held firm, not allowing herself to be intimidated or embarrassed. Their connection was deep and filled with a strange sad longing.

"Yes," she said at last, breaking the silence. "I wanted to see you."

His face relaxed and the ghost of a smile appeared. He turned away, his stiff body easing.

"I am glad to hear it," he responded quietly. His voice was barely above a whisper but it carried in the deepening dusk. The landscape faded from blue to black as shadows grew from everywhere. A chill rushed over the water and Lark pulled her cloak around her shoulders as she watched the last remnants of sunset fade from the water's surface. Stars dotted the night sky but the moon was waning and the tiny sliver didn't offer any light.

August stepped closer, seeming less steady than usual. He took her hand again, but this time she noticed how cold he was. He felt like a corpse, hollow and inhuman. She drew her hand back in surprise.

"You're cold," she whispered.

"You're cold," he argued. She scoffed.

"You're colder."

August sighed.

"Yes," he explained. "I have not fed recently. But I'm immortal. Don't concern yourself with my temperature."

"It is my concern, my lord," she replied stubbornly. "You are the lord of this kingdom. Without your protection, we humans would be nothing but prey for rogues. You must take care of yourself."

She couldn't see him smile at her scolding.

"I do not feel the hunger I once did," he soothed her. "I will feed."

Lark felt a surge of bravery rise within her. Her heart racing, she reached for his hand and held it to her chest.

"Then feed now," she leaned her head to one side to expose her neck. August inhaled sharply but didn't move, gently pulling his hand from her grasp.

"I only feed on the harem," August argued. His voice was heavy and morose. Lark was surprised by his restraint and even slightly hurt. She felt a familiar regret building up around her heart. She had to get home. She would feel more stable there. As if reading her thoughts, August rested a cold hand on her shoulder.

"I should escort you home," he said. Lark nodded and both mounted their horses easily, trotting down the road and back to the home of her employers. He stopped with her just beyond the property where the streetlamps couldn't reach them. He rode up alongside her.

"Would you accept more letters from me?" he asked. Lark nodded.

"Yes, my lord," she answered. He took her hand and held her wrist to his lips, pressing it against them briefly before nodding his head and galloping away, back towards his castle. Lark was stunned for a moment, a tingling sensation running from her wrist to the center of her chest. She felt lightheaded and conflicted, unable to settle her emotions. What did August truly want? Why had he refused her?

Clouded by her own insecurity and confusion, she brought her horse back to its stable. She entered her room, careful not to wake the cook, and fell into bed tormented by her own thoughts.