Lark (11 page)

             
Before he finishes his sentence and I have a chance to let everything he just said sink in, I hear Maddie Rose start to cry from down the hall. How strange… Maddie Rose has always been a champion sleeper. It is not uncommon for her to sleep 12-14 hours straight at night. In fact, I can't remember the last time she woke up in the middle of the night.  I look up at Grey, terrified that we have been caught. Placing one finger over his lips, he quietly grabs my suitcases and shuts off the light.  He then places his hand gently on my elbow, and less than a second later, we pop back to Álfheimr.

             
We have returned to the same room where I received the news that turned my whole world upside down. My heart is racing, but I collapse on top of the bed, suddenly realizing how tired I am. Then I remember something that makes me jump about ten feet in the air.

             
“Oh crap!” I shriek, “What happened to my car? Surely somebody saw it? And what did Dave think when three of his employees didn't come in to work today? What if they called my mom?”

             
Full blown panic mode is setting in.

             
“Don't worry, I took care of everything," he says reassuringly, but I must not look convinced, so he continues, “I was snowed in and couldn't make it to work. You left early for your ski trip in order to avoid the ice storm, and as for Brian, well, that isn't any of our concern. Your car has been repaired and moved to the parking lot of the airport waiting for you to return from your 'trip.' Don't worry, I crossed all our t's and dotted all the i's.”

             
“Wow, um, okay. Impressive. How did you do all that? What will I be able to do? You know, besides the whole healing thing?” I asked.

             
“I hardly think making a few phone calls qualifies as magic,” he says with a smile.

             
“Ha ha.” Duh. Of course he just made a few phone calls; not everything requires magic. Mere humans do survive without it. “But how did you fix my car?”

             
“Well, that did require a little magical assistance.” He smiles before explaining, “We draw our magic from nature, and since metal is an earth element...." he shrugs as if this explains it all, but I am completely lost. Of course, I haven't really understood most of what has happened today. “As far as your capabilities go, I guess we will just have to wait and see. I am certain Alberico will have somebody help you tap into your powers after you get settled.”

             
“Could you help me?” I ask him timidly. As embarrassed as I am for fabricating our entire relationship in my head when he was just doing his job, he is the closest thing I have here to a friend.

             
He stares at me for a moment before finally agreeing with a slight nod of his head.

             
“Sure.”

             
“Thanks. And Grey?” I stop him before he leaves.

             
“Yes?”

             
“I'm sorry for calling you a dick earlier.”

             
He gives me a sort of half smile letting me know I'm forgiven.             

             
“Get some rest, I will be back tomorrow morning. You are to have breakfast with the King and then we can start trying to figure you out.”

             
Gee, way to make me feel like a science experiment.
  He leaves me then, and I take a moment to really absorb my surroundings for the first time. The circular room has a rich red carpet and walls the color of pale gold. On the four-poster mahogany bed is a thick comforter, a slightly darker shade of gold than the walls, with red and gold accent pillows. The only other furniture in the room are two elegant chairs sitting against the massive bay window that opens up to a balcony overlooking the gardens. The absence of any other typical bedroom furniture is probably why I thought I was in a hotel room earlier.  I notice there are two other doors besides the one that leads out into the hallway, so I decide to investigate what is behind them. The first one opens into the biggest walk-in closet I have ever seen. It’s larger than my bedroom back home and is packed full of beautiful dresses of every color imaginable. Everything from skirts and sundresses to cocktail dresses and ballgowns.  Judging by the sheer number of shoes on the back wall, there must be at least one pair dedicated to every garment in this closet. Upon closer inspection, I discover that everything in here is my size. That can't be a coincidence, but how on earth did they fill it up so quickly and when did they do it without me noticing? Or was the room already stocked prior to my arrival? And if so, how did they manage to know my size? Of course, they are elves, capable of God only knows what, and after a day like today, nothing should surprise me anymore. Apparently, anything is possible.

              After I spend a good twenty minutes looking over what can only be my new wardrobe, I turn to check out the other door. I’m assuming it leads into my private bathroom and really, after witnessing the closet, I should not have been so surprised to see not just a bathroom, but my own personal spa. Complete with heated floors, a stand up shower with eight different shower-heads and a Jacuzzi tub. Rows of every single beauty product Hannah has ever coveted cover the counter tops, which in themselves are so massive they take up the length of the room. There is an ornate cabinet in the corner full of neatly stacked, fluffy white towels, and beside it a chair with a white cotton robe and matching fuzzy slippers. Well, it has been a long day. What better way to unwind then to relax in my very own personal hot tub before bed?

             
I run the water and while I wait for the tub to fill, I go grab my favorite pair of pajamas with the smiley faces on them from my suitcase.  They aren't the prettiest things, faded and obviously well-worn. I am sure my newly discovered wardrobe contains much more elegant sleeping attire but, after everything that has happened today, I want something comforting. Something from home.

             
I’m not sure how long I spend soaking, immersed in the jetted tub, but eventually I make my way over to the oversized four poster bed where I am certain, regardless of how exhausted I am or how comfortable the bed is, that my spinning head will thwart sleep.

             
But, of course, I was wrong.

             
It feels like as soon as I’d laid my head down, there is a knock at the door. I open my eyes, surprised to find sunlight streaming through the large balcony window already. Another knock has me springing from bed to answer it before realizing how inappropriately dressed I am for company.

             
Just my luck.

             
It's Greyson, and I’m sure I look as though a rat has made a lovely home on top of my head. Behind him, Freya, the little flaxen-haired servant, stands shyly with her head down.

             
“Good morning,” he says as he looks me over from the doorway. I quickly grab the white robe from the floor, where I left it in a heap last night after I got dressed, and immediately hide myself in it.

             
“What time is it?” is my way of returning his greeting. I’m most definitely not a morning person.

             
“It is ten o'clock. The King thought you may need the extra sleep, so he had breakfast postponed. He asked me to come and escort you down at ten-thirty. I thought you may like some time to make yourself a bit more presentable, so I came to give you fair warning.”

             
Well, that was thoughtful. But, just how presentable was he expecting me to be in thirty minutes?

             
“Presentable?” I grumble.

             
“Yes, some of the Royal Council will likely be there as well and I didn't think you would want their first impression of you to be in your ratty old pajamas.”

             
Did he seriously just insult my jammies? Rude. I glare at him. It must not have been very ferocious-looking since he just laughs at me as he barges his way in my room.

             
“I brought Freya to help you find something to wear.”

             
The meek little elf curtsies quickly to me and immediately heads to my closet without so much as a word.

             
“How about this one, Your Highness?” she asks quietly while holding up an exquisite lavender dress that looks like it’s made of silk. The sleeves are long and tighten slightly at my wrists. The bodice is fitted and the neckline is ruled with delicate lace. The skirt flares out slightly as it reaches the floor in what I think they call an A-line.

             
“Please, just call me Mia,” I tell her earnestly. There is no way I could ever feel comfortable letting someone address me so formally. “And the dress is beautiful.”

             
She beams up at me and starts picking out shoes. She hands me a pair of two-inch strappy heels and after I slip them on she has me twirl around for her.  I hate walking in heels. I notice Freya’s are comfortable looking black flats and I’m instantly envious.

             
“Though I think I’d be much more comfortable in a simple dress and shoes like yours. Why isn’t there anything like that in my closet?”

             
“Don’t be silly Your Highness, only the servants wear these simple gray frocks. You get to wear dresses and shoes that are much lovelier,” she smiles brightly at me, obviously more at ease in my company now.

             
“Are there a lot of servants here?”

             
“I would say there are about fifty of us lucky enough to serve His Majesty.”

             
“Lucky? To be a servant? No offense, but how’s that lucky?”

             
“Oh, His Majesty is a kind and generous Lord. His servants make an excellent living and it is a great honor to serve in His Majesty’s castle.”

             
Exactly thirty minutes later, to my surprise, I am being, as Grey put it, escorted to the dining hall wearing a silky lavender dress way more suitable for prom than for a breakfast, in my opinion. My hair is smooth and laying straight down my back. It occurs to me that I am about to see the rest of the castle—a real life castle— for the first time, and the thought makes me giddy. I have never even been anywhere outside the continental US, but I have always wanted to travel to Europe and tour all the castles. My fascination began the first time I saw a picture of the Neuschwanstien Castle in Germany. The Germans do castles well.

             
As it turns out, my room pales in comparison to the rest of the spectacular palace.  While my room has a modern feel in its simple beauty, the rest of the castle looks like, well, a castle. It looks just like I always imagined the inside of a castle to look. White stone walls and glossy marble floors. Arched entryways and thousands of pieces of art everywhere you look. There are even elegant tapestries hanging from the high ceilings. I’m already overwhelmed by the extravagance around me and this is just one of the many floors. Soon we approach a descending spiral staircase and I begin to grasp the majestic size of Alberico's castle as I get my first real look at its vastness.

             
The first staircase ends at a landing opposite a second spiral staircase, and these stairs descend straight down to the main floor. The room we enter into is larger than my entire high school and just as opulent as the upstairs. Grey leads me through an entryway adorned by two marble Doric columns into what I assume is the dining hall. The mile long mahogany table gives it away even before I smell the deliciousness that must be breakfast. My stomach gives a very un-ladylike growl as we make our grand entrance.

             
The table is full of fresh fruits, sliced meat, cheese and at least ten different types of bread along with a variety of sweet jams to choose from. I cannot believe how much food there is. Scones, muffins, a weird sausage roll thing that smells really good. Some of the fruit I recognize like star fruit, kiwi, pomegranate, and even strawberries but there are many more that are completely foreign to me. The first one I notice is a weird pink melon with dark red stripes. The most unusual looking one would have to be the banana-pineapple cross-over thing.

             
“Ah, here you are.” Alberico beams when he sees me and immediately stands. “May I present my daughter, Mia.”

He is at the head of the table, and there are a handful of handsomely dressed men and women sitting on either side of him who stand at my introduction.

              Alberico gestures me over to him. I may be just imagining it, but I swear, some of his council looked almost uncomfortable when Alberico referred to me so casually as his daughter, which only makes me feel even more uneasy as I make my way past them. When I finally take my place at the seat directly on his right, Alberico begins making introductions.

             
The only names I actually remember are Lady Adele, Duke Finnegan and Duchess Isobel. Adele stands out because, unlike the majority of the female elves I’ve seen so far, she doesn’t have long hair. Her white-blonde locks are cut short, framing her decidedly pretty face. She also appears to be the youngest elf present, which probably means she is only around 100-years-old. However, the most unusual thing about her is the color of her eyes: violet. I’ve never seen anybody with purple eyes before. She’s also one of the few elves who actually smile kindly at me. Most of them seem to only be capable of staring.