The King

A New Meeting

The day of his fiancés arrival, Larkin woke up to a royal blue set. He has never had this decadently decorated fabric in his wardrobe. It irritated him that his father wanted to go out of his way for such a thing.

In his mind, the girl he knew all those years ago scoffed at extravagance. Her pale blonde hair cut in uneven patches, a look she created herself with a dagger. There was always something on her face, dirt or jam from sparring or food she snuck from the pantry. He can still hear her squeaky laugh after she would beat him in a sparring match. He can’t imagine how she looks now when he still sees that girl who vehemently rejected doing things that the other girls were doing. Although she was a mess, he never viewed her as ugly; he never viewed her as anything. Just an odd girl.

He has to remind himself of his responsibility, one they both will have to each other and their kingdoms. King Tristan takes notice of his son's deep breaths and exhales as they stand at the entrance. His hand is tightly gripping behind his back to the point that they are reddening.

“Me and your mother met for the first time like this. Right away, she struck me as the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, and then I realized that she was also the most personable soul. It didn’t take long for me to fall for her.”

“Do you think we will be the same?”

“You won’t know unless you keep an open mind,” he responds softly.

They can see the carriage peak out from the sun and cross the bridge. Every movement closer sends a pinch to his stomach. He is so worried about the discomfort that the carriage has already arrived through the gate and sits idle at the bottom of the stairs. The rose gold metal shines with a blinding light, almost like it is enchanted. One of their men steps in front of the carriage to announce the guest's arrival.

“King Alan and Princess Carissa.”

Alan is first out of the carriage, which only pushes his anticipation. Though he has noticed some hair loss and weight gain since he last saw him. Still, he appears just as in good spirits as he did before. Alan grins at them, and Larkin can see the glimmer of a golden tooth. He doesn’t want to stay focused on the years comparison, he wants to see the woman he is supposed to marry.

Silk fabric tumbles down onto the steps; it is a gold-encrusted gown with white lace. Light pink flats slip through to take a step onto the gravel. The woman’s face holds a soft expression of wonder reflected against the light of the sun. He wonders if this is indeed the girl from his childhood.

Gone is her dirty skin; it is now milk white, with locks of braided golden hair touching her waist. Her green eyes comb over the kingdom with wonder, like she is revisiting all the memories she has had. They meet him, and he is part of the memory.

She smiles at him, and he suddenly feels warm blood rushing through his veins. He travels back and forth in his mind to the past and now. He can hear the distant chuckle of amusement.

“My, how Carissa has changed,” His father says, looking relieved.

Larkin finally exhales when they reach the top of the steps. All four of them bow their head to signal mutual respect.

“Thank you for inviting us to your home,” Carissa says softly. Larkin is enamored by how the words run out between her lips like sweet honey.

“We are happy you took the three day journey here,” Tristan says. “Please join us for dinner.”

Out in the courtyard, a buffet of food has been made for the four of them. Larkin's eyes keep wandering to Carissa, curious to know her thoughts on all this. If she too showed hesitation at the news of the arranged marriage. Her face is unreadable; she’s more intrigued with the delicacies and cradles the stack in her hand. He thinks back to the food she would shove in her pockets, leaving residue and crumbs. She would pass them around to the group because they never allowed the boys in the pantry. For that reason, particularly.

Gently licking the jam from her fingers, she wanders past the garden entrance, only a couple of yards to a swing attached to a tall oak resting just above a steep hill. While he wanted to join his father and Alan, they had other plans for him. His father's eyes dart from her to Larkin. With that look, he understands.

He approaches with caution, keen not to destroy the picture he is seeing, though his presence seems to already be known.

“This was one of my favorite spots,” Carissa mutters quietly. “You might not remember, but this was where we first met.”

He is a little surprised she would remember something that happened over a decade ago.

“It was my first time in the castle. I was shy and isolated since my mother died. You were the first to talk to me. You wanted me to move so you could roll down the hill at this spot.”

“I was more mean and spoiled in my youth,” he says apologetically.

“No, I took no offense by it. You had no clue what I was going through. At the time, servants, even my father, would coddle me after her death. Even the other nobles. It was nice to be treated normally.”

He remembers them rolling down the hill, smelling of fresh grass and dirt. She smells more like flowers and honeysuckle now. Why she would think fondly of his ignorance surprises him, but he understands the hurt of losing a loved one. A feeling that never really goes away.

“It is ok if you don’t remember,” she says.

Her smile is gracious and full of sincerity, her eyes flutter to her shoes with so politeness and care. He can see that even through her modesty, she appears disappointed. A soft breeze loosens the strands from her braided hair and it moves gently across her face.

“How things have changed since then,” she comments, her eyes looking up at him.

“Yes, it seems like it.”

“Carissa, “Alan calls.

When she pulls her gaze away, his heart leaps, realizing he has been staring back at him.

'’It looks like we need to entertain,” she muses.

A hint of a smirk shows on his face and offers her his hand, a gesture she might not have suspected. She smiles coyly and places her hand on his lightly. She feels weightless in his hand, something intended as she pulls herself up. Their fathers are delighted to see them walk back together, shoulder to shoulder.

They all take their seats, dancing around topics of old memories and light politics. The two stay silent with their eyes shifting between each other and their fathers. The conversation was out of courtesy, a way to sense out each other's stance on the main subject without saying it. They are working their way in gradually.

“Oh, how the gods have been good to us,” Alan says. Tristan nods his head in agreement as he continues. “Powerful countries, we are fair kings, both with beautiful children. Descendants of the Hylands. Two join two kingdoms from them would make a powerful match."

“I couldn’t agree more. These times are going to become trying.”

“The uniting of kingdoms with both your inherited abilities will be our best option; it will secure your children’s lives.”

The topic of children causes his throat to constrict, choking down the last of his wine. Carissa's face turns bright pink with a hint of a more playful smirk. Larkin can't help but feel bad. Carissa is being dragged into this mess just because of their bloodline.

“This will be a great union,” Tristan points out.