Beautiful

    Beautiful hung back, careful not to let Seeker see how eager she was for their little adventure.  Let him lead.  He seemed happy to.

    “Here’s the Dusty Parlor,” he said.  Well, obviously.

      They came to a doorway, blocked by rubble.  “The Interpreter showed Christian many things in the rooms on the other side.” 

     Did he think she didn’t know the history of the ruins?   He could be so obnoxious.  “And Christiana,” she added.

    He shot her a puzzled look.  She knew something he didn’t.  She’d show him—after dinner.

     “This is where the tour ends.” He stopped in front of a crumbled wall, no taller than she was.

    Why would he bring her here only to stop?  Didn’t he know that all good things take effort?  She would show him.  She grabbed her dress in one hand and started climbing the wall. 

    She hauled herself up—harder than she expected.  Her arms strained, slipping a little.  No way she was asking for help.

    She landed on the other side and called back, “Are you coming, little baby?”  She grinned.  That ought to show him.

    “Don’t call me…” he started.

    She giggled.  He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

    She dashed up the stairs to the tower door.  Locked.  That was it?  The end of their adventure?  She yanked on the handle—it didn’t budge. Too early.  It couldn’t be over yet.

    He walked over, calm as ever, pulled a clasp-knife from his satchel, and flipped it open.  She’d never seen it before—she was sure of that.  And yet… he’d given it to her in her dream.  Curious.

   He slid his knife into the crack between the door and frame—smooth, like he’d done it a thousand times.  The door swung open.  She just stared.  What else didn’t she know about him?

    She held out her hand, waiting.  But he was already bounding up the stairs without her.

    “I’m waiting…” she called.  He could be so oblivious.  Did he want to hold her hand or not?

    He retraced his steps without a word, and their fingers found each other.  Hand in hand, they started up the stairs.  There wasn’t as much room as she’d expected—she was pressed right up against him.  But she didn’t let go.  She could feel his heartbeat—slow, steady, strong—echoing through her.  She felt safe.  Her own heart answered his, beat for beat.

    What was at the top of the tower that had him intrigued?  Her curiosity was killing her.

    She lit up.  Books.  So, he was a warrior poet?  Maybe he was her type after all.  Ridiculous.  She’d been positively absurd the last few days.

   She ran her finger across the spines.  The Measure of a Man.  The Hidden Well.  The Yoke and the Plough.  He really was a deep thinker.  One title stopped her—written in a script she didn’t recognize.  

   “What is this one?” she asked.

    “That is the New Testament,” he replied.  “It’s in Greek.”

    Warrior poet.  Like Odysseus.  Of course he could read Greek.  But she had to be sure.

   “How do you say…” she hesitated for half a second, then blurted “I love you.”  That didn’t count.  She said it, sure—but she didn’t mean it like that.

   The dumb boy said “Ah-gah-PAH-oh.”

   He had said it.  And she liked hearing it.  No one had ever said that to her before.

    “Thank you!”  She laughed to herself.  She was getting good at this.  But… she shouldn’t be cruel.  Not to him.

    When Beautiful woke, the sky was still dark, a faint silver glow brushing the edge of the horizon.  She lit a candle and stared into the mirror.  Carefully, she brushed her hair, coaxing the curls back in place.  One night of sleep and her hair was as wild as Miss Cheerful’s.  Well, maybe not that bad.

    She didn’t want to wear the same dress again—but she didn’t have many.  It wasn’t about impressing Seeker.  She just needed something good for exploring ruins.

    When did Seeker eat breakfast?  She wasn’t sure.  Better to get there early—just in case.

    She set two places.  One for her—and one right beside it.  As she waited, the thought struck her.  Two plates?  What was she thinking?  He’d know she’d been waiting for him.  She reached to whisk one away—and froze as he stepped into the doorway.

    “Good morning, baby,” she said, trying not to glance at the second plate.  She eyed the day-old bread.  “It’s not apples, but it’ll have to do.”  She felt very clever at her private joke.

    He sat down in front of the second plate.  So—he noticed.  Oh well.  His hand drifted to hers.

    “Not here, I said!”  Maybe she should let him—she still remembered how his hand felt in the dream.  But she pulled hers away anyway.

    “What is it you do in that tower, Seeker?” she said, keeping her voice light.  Not light enough.  Too eager.  He’d be suspicious for sure.

    He picked up on it—of course he did.  She’d just let it slip that she’d noticed him before.  She scrambled to cover.  “Everyone knows, little baby.”  She threw in little to make it sound less… endearing.

    “Come and see, baby,” he teased.

   How dare he call her baby?  “Don’t call me baby!”

    Beautiful was surprised to find herself dreaming of Seeker.  She held his hand tightly as they walked through the pastures, passing Shepherds and Pilgrims.  She was free to do as she pleased—unbothered by their glances.

    When they reached an orchard, he picked an apple—red and luscious—and handed it to her.   She took his clasp-knife, sliced a piece, and offered him the first bite.

   He stared at her with an intensity that made her feel—well, beautiful.  Maybe for the first time.  She leaned in to give him the kiss she’d denied. But she woke up first.

    Her heart was pounding.  That was close.  Did dreams count?  It was her dream, after all.  No one would know.  She didn’t even have to tell Seeker.  

    She hoped he’d dreamt of her.  She really did.  She needed to stop making promises she couldn’t keep.

   “Can I kiss you?”  The words caught Beautiful off guard.  She’d denied him her hand at the top of the stairs.  But his hands—strong, careful—still lingered in her memory.  She wanted him to kiss her.  She’d never met anyone like him.

    But… she’d made herself a promise.  She would only kiss one man—the man she loved.  She’d only say I love you to that man.  Once she said it, she could never say it to anyone else.  She’d never betray her husband like that.

    It really was a marvelous day—maybe even the best of her life.  But it was only the first.  Much too early to say.

    She’d promised to only kiss one man.  But…. She offered Seeker her cheek.  If he’d kissed other girls, that was his business.  A tingle bloomed where his lips touched her skin.

    “I’ll miss you,” he teased.

    “No, you won’t.  I’m going to visit you in your dreams.”

    And the dumb boy actually believed her.

    Beautiful sat beside the stream with Seeker, dipping her toes into the crystal-clear water.  That was his name, right?  He hadn’t said, but she was pretty sure she’d heard Companion call him that.

    A palace rose on the far side of the stream, stately and magnificent.  Exploring that would be a grand adventure.  He didn’t even think to offer.  Maybe he thought she couldn’t cross the stream—or that she’d fall in.  And honestly, could you blame him, after the way she nearly went flying off the stairs?

    Then it came to her.  He was always off exploring the ruins near the cottage.   What was in there that held his fascination?  She would find out.  Tomorrow.  Who said her adventure had to end today?

    She set her handbag down and opened it, hoping he didn’t notice how old and worn it looked.  Inside were two sandwiches wrapped in linen.  Her heart skipped.  Make one for your husband.  Had she really just said that out loud?  She was mortified.  Heat rushed to her face.  Please let him not have heard.  He’d think she was silly.   And there went her adventure.   

    The word still echoed in her mind—husband.  Still.  He wasn’t even really her type.

     He passed her his canteen.  She recognized it—it had been Companion’s.  She wished she had a good friend like that.  The crumb at the corner of Seeker’s mouth had been bothering her.  She reached over and wiped it away with her handkerchief.  Much better.

***

    He looked distracted.  What was going on in that head of his?  She started telling him about the time she fell into the Slough.  Why had she said that?  Now he’d think she was clumsy.  And there went the palace.

    He was listening—really listening.  No judgment in his eyes.  So, she continued on.  Prattled on, more like.  She told him all about her childhood in Dark Land.  How hard it had been.  There was something about him—steady, quiet—that made her trust him.

   She looked up—and there it was.  A single tear rolling down his cheek.  Revulsion surged in her chest.  “Don’t cry,” she snapped.  She’d never seen a man cry before.  Yell, sure.  Cry?  Never.  “Only babies cry.”

   No sooner had the words left her lips than she regretted them.  He was crying—for her.  That wasn’t weakness.  She had no reason to mock him.  How could she take it back?  Unsay it?  Baby could mean something sweet.  Something tender.  Maybe he knew that.

   “I’m going to call you baby from now on!”  She nearly convinced herself.

   “Hurry up, baby!  The sun’s setting” She dashed toward the stairway—another chance to show him she could keep up.

    Beautiful slowed at the top of the stairs, chest heaving.  She grinned as he lagged behind.  Maybe next time he’d think twice before underestimating her.

    The top step was slick.  Her foot slipped suddenly, and she pitched forward.  She flung out a hand, grasping for anything.  He caught her.  She shot him a sheepish grin.  It really was a long way down.

    He was stronger than he looked.  But the way he held her hand—so gentle.  She started to pull away, but he didn’t let go.  Good.  Not that she was going to admit she needed her hand held for the way down.  Like a baby.

    As they made their way down, with his steady grip keeping her steps sure, she could actually take in the view.  This was a side of the valley she’d never seen—wild and green, with waterfalls crashing and water slipping down delicate cascades.  It danced over the rocks, clear and careless.

   She sighed.  What an adventure today was turning out to be.

    Beautiful woke that morning, bored out of her skull.  Why were people so dull here?  She clomped down to the common room—no one to talk to, as usual.  She hated that.  Fine.  She would go on an adventure today.  Alone, if she had to.

    Same old bread.  But today, Miss Cheerful had left meat and cheese—almost like she knew Beautiful had plans.  Beautiful slapped a slice of each between two pieces of bread.  Make one for your husband.  She spun.  Who said that?  No one.  Just her brain, spitting nonsense.  What an absurd idea.  She was definitely too bored.

     She found herself making a second sandwich anyway, fingers working on their own.  She wrapped it in linen—neatly, too.  The birds would eat it.  They were her only friends here.  Well… them, and Gracious.  And Steadfast.  Kind.  Fair-Glance.  And—

    She wandered through the wheat fields, wondering where to go.  To the stream?  She had never been.  The stairs looked dreadfully long.  The birds were singing, and she matched them, tapping the stalks in time with careful fingers.   When they paused, so did she, plucking grains and flicking them away between beats.  Still bored.

    She looked up and saw him.  What was he smiling at?  She turned, hair whipping into her face.  There was nothing there.  Then it hit her—he was smiling at her.  He kept smiling.  Well, now this was getting awkward. 

    She strode straight over and poked him in the stomach.  Husband.  The word blazed through her mind before she could stop it.  What an utterly ridiculous idea.

    “I’m Beautiful.”  Why had her parents given her that name? 

    “Yes, you are!” he said.

    Was he teasing her?  She giggled anyway.  She already loved his sense of humor.

    “Do you want to see the stream?” he asked.  “Maybe tomorrow?”   

    What was wrong with him?  Didn’t he realize she was bored today?  He was perfect for this adventure—she had seen him poking around the ruins.  Well… after Companion left.  Before that, he trailed after him like some lost puppy.  

    Tomorrow? He probably thought she couldn’t handle the stairs and didn’t want to say it.  Fine.  She would show him.

“What’s wrong with today?”  She had no idea what he thought he was doing—but he was coming with her.  Whether he liked it or not.   “Try to keep up!”