K. Blackthorn

    Beautiful sat sideways on her bed, legs tucked beneath her, counting the soft strokes of the brush through her curls.  She would be perfect for Seeker tonight.  A ridiculous thought.  The way she looked had nothing to do with the dream.  Or did it?  Was she more beautiful there if she felt more beautiful here?  Or did the dream reflect how Seeker saw her?  She would ask him tonight.

    She slid off the bed, bare feet peeking from beneath her cotton nightgown to touch the smooth wooden floor.  She tiptoed over and blew out the candle.  Moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow—almost as bright as day.  She closed her eyes and tried to will herself into Seeker’s dream.  But sleep wouldn’t come.

    She thought about her days with Seeker—the adventure he had led her into.  That would never end.  They would share bedchambers in Palace Beautiful.  He would be her Great-Heart, guiding her safely through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.  

    But they were empty words—she couldn’t see it.  She tried to picture her wedding day, but the image wouldn’t come.  She could see Kind with his Book and Seeker standing there.  But where was she?  It wasn’t what she saw that made her stomach twist.  It was what she didn’t see.  Her parents.

    She sat bolt upright.  In all her joy, she’d forgotten about her parents.  They would never let their baby girl marry a penniless Pilgrim.  It doesn’t matter, she pleaded in her mind, tears spilling down her cheeks.  I love him.  He loves me.  She would run away with him.  No.  She couldn’t.  That was impossible.

    Her ring caught the moonlight, gleaming brilliantly in the quiet glow.  Her ring.  It wasn’t just a promise to her—it had become a symbol of her vow.  She would never take it off.  She reached for the other ring at her neck.  A promise from the King.

    Still empty words.  She sobbed.   Sleep wouldn’t come.   She would go to him—he would understand her heart.  She froze.  He couldn’t see her like this.

    Wife.  The word echoed in her mind.  Husband.  Just words… right?  She would walk with him—every step.  Even if not as wife.  Would he understand?  I can’t marry you.  But I can be with you.

    She continued to cry, but not to sleep.

    Beautiful walked beside Seeker, hand in hand, resisting the familiar urge to dash ahead and make him chase her.  Not today.

  Together they walked down the stairs, her hand still in his.  She never got tired of the view—waterfalls spilling from the distant mountains into the stream below, carving its way through the ravine.

    She knew exactly what was coming—he thought she hadn’t noticed the small velvet box hidden in his other hand.  And yet, her curiosity buzzed inside her, impossible to quiet.  She glanced at him, amused—he was trembling.  Poor boy.  This was the same man whose fists had sent brutes running just hours ago.  And now he trembled at her.  A girl who barely reached his shoulders.

    Relax.  You’re doing fine.   He stopped at the stone where they’d sat the very first day.  This is where their adventure had begun.  Where she’d accidentally blurted out husband.  Somehow, even then, she’d known.  No.  She’d known the moment he smiled at her in the wheat fields.  He had seen her.

    He dropped to one knee.  He could really, really be ridiculous sometimes.  This was so cliché.

   “Beautiful,” he said, “will you…”

    She leaned in.  Yes?  She waited.  And then waited some more.  Her heart pounded.  She couldn’t take it.  She sat down on the stone—the very one where she’d given him her extra sandwich.  Funny, he never seemed to think that was odd.  She pulled him down beside her.

    She slowly, deliberately took off her shoes and dangled her toes in the water, letting the coolness wash over her.  Then she pulled off his boots and dropped his feet into the stream beside hers.  Water splashed all over her.  She didn’t care.

    He still didn’t say anything.  How long was he planning to keep her in suspense?   Unable to take it anymore, she snatched the ring case from his hand.

    “You wanted to give me this?” she said, flipping the lid open.

    She gasped.  It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—a delicate band of the purest gold, set with diamonds that gleamed with an otherworldly light, dancing like the water her toes dangled in.  She counted them.  One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.  Six.  Seven.  Seven lustrous diamonds.  Where had he gotten this?

    No.  She didn’t care where it came from.  It was hers now.  She leaned in and kissed him.

    “Yes, Seeker—I will be your wife!”

    He just sat there smiling, not saying a word.  It was starting to test her patience.

    “Well, don’t sit there like a dumb boy.  Put the ring on my finger!” she snapped, her tone warm.  Tender.

    Beautiful poured water from the pitcher into a basin, then dipped a wash towel and gently wiped the smudges from her face.  She brushed her hair with care, then paused to twirl one of her curls around her little finger—Seeker adored her curls.

    Her favorite dress was laid out on the bed.  It wasn’t fancy, but it was still beautiful.  As her fingers brushed a ring on a silver chain—the one Secret had given her with the King’s invitation—her memory stirred.

---

   Beautiful busied herself sweeping the floor of the little house in Dark Land.  Her mom would be home from the fields soon, and together they’d prepare dinner before her dad returned from the ocean.

    She had barely set aside the broom when a knock echoed at the front door.  The man who stood there wore a simple, finely made cloak of deep royal blue, and around his neck hung a slender chain bearing the seal of the King.

   “I am Secret, and I dwell with those who are on high,” he said, his voice quiet but compelling.  “The King invites you to journey to Beulah as a Pilgrim.”

   “How can I journey to Beulah, seeing as I am just a girl, and I have no one to walk with me?”

    “Have you no friends or family?” Secret asked.

    “I am only the baby,” she said.  “My brothers and sisters left years ago, and my parents refused to go with them.”  Her fingers curled around the edge of her skirt.  “What chance do I have?”  She glanced toward the window, as if there was nothing to see.  “And my friends—none would leave this place.”

    Secret handed her the King’s invitation.  On it was written “Beautiful,” sealed with the signet of the King.  Then he took her hand and placed a small velvet pouch in it.  Inside was a golden ring, set with a deep black onyx.  It was clearly not meant for her—much too large for her small fingers.

    Secret smiled.  “The King will send one to walk with you.  That ring belongs to him.”  

   Beautiful bowed low. “Please tell the King—I accept his invitation.”  She turned the ring over in her hand, studying it.  “When I find him, I will give it to him.  And I will love him.”  Her eyes blazed.  “And only him.”

    He nodded—not in simple agreement, but as witness to her vow.  He handed her a small ornate wooden box.  “Godspeed, Beautiful, daughter of the King.”  And with that, he was gone.

---

    Beautiful changed into the dress she’d laid out—the red and black one she’d been wearing when she met Seeker.  She slipped the necklace over her head, and tucked the ring into her dress, close to her heart.  It belonged to Seeker now.  He just didn’t know it yet.

   She dabbed on a touch of perfume from the carved, ornate box the King had given her.   The sweet fragrance of lilies filled the room.  She ran the brush through her hair one last time, making sure every strand was in place.

    Yes, she was aware of the time.  How long had she kept him waiting?  It didn’t matter.  She had to be perfect for him.  

    When at last she stepped into the common room, Seeker greeted her with a smile—the same smile that had captured her heart in the wheat fields.

    Beautiful leaned into her Deliverer as they walked.  She didn’t need a mirror to know—her face was smudged with dirt, her eyes swollen from a week’s worth of tears.  Not because of the brutes.  She hadn’t stopped crying since she walked away from Seeker.   Her hair was wild—she hadn’t even brushed it before slipping out to hear Kind speak.  No one was supposed to see her.  That was what the veil was for—to hide the tears.

    Seeker didn’t even notice—he just looked at her with love in his eyes.  Her Deliverer.  She had cried out to the King, just as Christiana had long ago—and He had heard her.  She never doubted He would.

    The King had sent him.  The thought sent a shiver through her.  To walk with her.  Her heart ached for Christiana—she never knew what it was to walk beside Christian.  Beautiful clutched Seeker’s hand.  She would never let go.  Never. 

    Fair-Glance and Cheerful stood talking in front of the cottage.  Fair-Glance looked at their intertwined fingers—disapproving.  Beautiful didn’t care.  Cheerful beamed at her.

    “You’re a mess, Beautiful,” he said.  “But you’re still Beautiful.”  A mischievous glint lit his eyes.  “To me.”  Then with a teasing shrug he added, “I’ll wait.  While you… freshen up.”

   Her temper sparked—just for a second.  But his eyes danced, full of mischief and tenderness.  She loved him.  No doubt at all.

    Beautiful lifted her chin and closed her eyes, waiting.  She opened them again.  What was he looking at?  Pay attention!  Without another thought, she grabbed his head and pulled his lips to hers—right there in front of the cottage.

    “Go,” he urged, voice quiet but sure.  “I’ll be right here waiting, Baby.”

   She didn’t protest.  Baby.  She liked the sound of it—more than she wanted to admit.  That word belonged to him now.

    Seeker couldn’t stand it anymore.  He grabbed his staff and headed out—Kind always knew the right thing to say.  It’d been a whole week since they’d spoken.  It’s not like he had a reason for not going sooner.  Kind was sure to give him an earful for that.

    The air was chill, the sky heavy with clouds, as Seeker trudged the Narrow Way.  In the distance, a woman in a slate-colored dress and veil walked alone.  Three brutes emerged, blocking her path.  Seeker stiffened, heart lurching.  They circled her.  He broke into a run.

    The scene from Beautiful’s Book flashed into his mind—Christiana and Mercy, ambushed in the Way.  The ill-favored one had promised to “make women of you forever.”  But the King had sent a Deliverer.  There would be no Deliverer this time.  There had been no Evangelist for him.  No Good-Will.  No Interpreter.  There would be no Deliverer for her, either.  There was only him.

    A sharp cry escaped his lips—he couldn’t hold back.  They turned.  He sprinted toward them, staff raised and swung with all his strength.  The blow landed clean—cracking against the nearest thug’s skull.  The man dropped like a stone.

    One of the brutes had the veiled woman by the arm.  “I’ll have my way with you once I finish with this runt,” he growled.  He shoved her to the ground and turned on Seeker.

    Seeker swung his staff, but the brute blocked it and knocked it from his hands.  A vision of Blunt in Stupidity flashed through his mind.  Fear surged—he wasn’t a fighter, and now he was unarmed.  But he had no choice.

    Fury welled up inside him.  He clenched his fist, drew it back, and hurled his weight into the punch.  The brute’s nose crumpled, blood spraying.  Seeker stooped, grabbed his fallen staff, and turned—just in time to see the last one running.

    Seeker held out his hand to the young lady trembling on the ground.  “Are you all right, Miss…”

    She pulled back her veil, and a wild mess of black curls tumbled free.  Her eyes were swollen, her face streaked with tears and dirt.

    “Beautiful?”  She was a mess—but she was still Beautiful.

    Beautiful sprang to her feet and fell into Seeker’s arms.

    “I love you, Seeker.”

    Seeker stood stunned.  This was the last thing he’d expected today.

    Lightning flashed in her eyes.  “I said I love you, you dumb boy!”

    She looked so adorable when she got like that.  

    “When did this happen?” he teased, heart racing.

    Beautiful stared at him, speechless.

    For a moment, they just looked at each other, then they both broke out laughing.

    Then they kissed.  It was a new beginning.

    Beautiful sat on her bed, tears streaking her cheeks.  She clutched the handbag he’d made, pressed tight to her heart.  She wanted to go to his room—to apologize.  But what would she even say?  She had counted every day.  It had been exactly seven.  She couldn’t wait another.  

    She opened the door, stepped into the hall… then stopped.

    No.  She would wait.

***

      Seeker paced his room, back and forth, back and forth.  He couldn’t think—couldn’t even read.  The list sat on the table, untouched.  He had a hundred—no, a thousand—reasons to love her.  And not one written down.

    He opened the lid of the music box and let the melody spill into the silence.  It had been a week.  He missed her.  Desperately.  How was he going to last a month?

    He reached for the door.  He’d go to her.  Say he was sorry.  But for what?  Loving her?

    He paused, hand on the handle.  She’d said a month.

    Beautiful woke to the sun rising over the horizon, a light frost dusting the ground.  The sheep grazed contentedly around her, unfazed by the chill.  Warmth still radiated from the campfire’s embers.  Seeker’s arm was around her—and she nestled in closer with a soft sigh.

    Seeker opened his eyes and smiled.  She gazed into those big, brown eyes—so full of tenderness.  Reaching up, she drew his lips to hers and kissed him, light and lingering.

     He looked at her, eyes searching hers.

     “I love you,” he said.

     No.  No.  No.  No.  

    Why did he have to ruin the moment?  She had promised—promised she’d only ever tell one man she loved him.  The kiss part?  She added that later.  Because deep down, she knew she would love the man she kissed.  And she did.  She loved Seeker.  With all her heart.  But she couldn’t say it.  Not now.  Not yet.  “I love you” was forever.  And she didn’t even know if…

    Some words shouldn’t be spoken.  He should know that.  Shouldn’t he be able to read her heart?  She loved him.  Did he really need her to say it aloud to believe it?   What was wrong with him?

Her temper flared—hot and sudden—but she caught herself, breathing it down.

    “When did this happen?” she asked, calm on the outside.  She was sure of it.

    “When you climbed the wall,” he stammered.  “When you tricked me into saying it the first time—I love you.”

    “Do you even know what love means?”  she demanded.  “Think of every reason you love me—and make a list.  Give it to me.  A month from now.”  She hesitated, then added, “We need a break.  Time to think things through.”

     Her heart sank.  Why had she said a month?  That was forever.  A week would’ve been enough.  Long enough to think.

    This was his fault.  She stood, fists clenched and walked away—leaving Seeker alone beside the cold, gray embers.

***

    Seeker sat frozen, staring at the cold embers.  What had just happened?  She loved him—he was sure of it.  And yet, she was gone.  A month.  Maybe forever.

   Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them back, stubbornly refusing to let them fall.  Only babies cry.  He made himself a vow.  He would never cry again.  Never.

    Just then, Tirzah came out of the tent wiping the sleep from her eyes.  “Still here, Seeker?”  She paused.  “Where’s Miss Beautiful?”

    “I ruined the perfect night.  Funny thing is, I don’t even know what I did wrong.  And now she’s gone.”

   Tirzah wheeled, leveling a piercing gaze at him.  “Don’t be a dummy, Seeker!  She loves you—everyone can see it.  Except you.  She will never leave you.  Not ever.”

    Doubt filled his mind.  If only he could be as sure as Tirzah.

    Christmas Eve had finally arrived—she’d been counting the days.  Would he like the music box she’d had made for him?  He loved music, and she’d managed to find out his favorite song without raising his suspicions.  Sometimes, he really could miss the obvious.

    He loved it, of course.  And she loved her new handbag.  He must’ve noticed her old one—but now, she didn’t care.  Her warrior poet was a craftsman, too.  Would he ever stop surprising her?

    She’d loved the meal with Kind and his family, and the service had left her heart aglow.  Now she sat with Seeker under the Christmas Star, firelight fading to embers.  What a perfect night.  If only it could last forever.

    She woke to Seeker’s lips on hers.  That didn’t count—he had kissed her.  No… she wanted it.  She leaned in and kissed him back, soft and certain.  That counted.  

    She let go.  

    And when they kissed again, she didn’t hold back.

    Beautiful awoke with a start—the sun already halfway up the sky.  She’d slept like a baby.  Then the panic hit.  What would Seeker think?  She rushed to brush her hair.  Splashed water on her face.  The common room was empty.  Heart racing, she bolted for the pasture.  There he was—talking to Kind, like nothing was wrong.

    She could see the unguarded affection in Kind’s eyes.  If Kind liked him, he couldn’t be half-bad.  Right?

    Kind teased her about being late.  Fair enough—she was terrible at judging time.  But this time, it really wasn’t her fault.

    “You can’t keep me up all night like that anymore,” she whispered to Seeker.  Her cheeks warmed.  She really hoped Kind hadn’t heard—she didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.  She leaned closer, lowering her voice even more.   “You have my days, that should be enough for you.” But not enough for me.  She wisely kept that one to herself.

    Had Kind just invited them to celebrate the Prince’s Birth?  She turned to him, brows lifted in a silent question.

    “You and Seeker are always welcome in my tent,” he said.  “Both of you.”  He looked at her like he knew.

   When she turned, Gracious was laughing at something Seeker had said.  Companion had definitely been a bad influence on him!

    That night Beautiful went to Seeker in the dream—this time on purpose.  He was already there, waiting.

    “It’s really you, isn’t it?” she whispered.

    He nodded, eyes gentle.  “You kept your promise.”

    She seized his hand without hesitation—right there in front of the cottage.  This was their dream.  Their rules.  No one could stop them.

    “You can hold my hand here,” she said, lifting her chin.  “Nowhere else.”

    He nodded.

    They raced down the stairs toward the ravine, her laughter chasing after the wind.  She skipped across the stream, rock to rock, with no fear of slipping.   The Stately Palace rose beside her—grand and dignified—but she barely glanced at it.  Who cared about ancient halls?  She had her Odysseus.  They wound along the ravine, the stream leaping beside them in playful bursts.

    Seeker dropped onto a smooth rock and let his boots drift through the cascading stream.  He laughed.  “Try this out!” he called.

    Beautiful stepped in without hesitation, unconcerned about her leggings or shoes.  The luminous water was cool, bright, and impossibly clean.  It curled around her like wind, flowing through her fingers and around her ankles without leaving a trace.  She twirled through it, laughing.  Together they danced beneath the waterfall, the water around them—gentle, alive, and brimming with joy.

    Beautiful settled beside Seeker and leaned into his chest—solid, steady, warm.  A soft sigh escaped her lips.  If only this night would never end.

    At last, the time came to leave.  Seeker leaned in to kiss her.  This was her dream—she could do whatever she wanted.  But it was real.  It counted.  She turned—not to meet his lips, but to offer her cheek.