The Black Pearl

Day 1

Her hands tore angrily at the fog. Why won't you let me see them, her mind screamed. As if in a spirit of compromise, the hazy grayness lightened faintly. Once again peering into the fog, she was almost able to see the four sportive forms in the happy meadow. Three were young girls, two with golden hair and the other with raven curls. The fourth child was the one that caught her interest. A small boy with perfectly tousled blond hair and rosy cheeks sat in the cheerful rays of sunlight immersed in laughter. When he laughed, his eyes twinkled. They were the most fascinating shade of green, like shimmering emeralds...

A jostle jerked her back to reality. Her eyes snapped open to Shrilynda standing above her—dark, imposing, and unhappy.

"If shirking your duties is so easily done, perhaps you need proper motivation," Shrilynda purred menacingly.

This threat was hollow. Color had already crept back to the Prince's cheeks, and Shril needed her. Rin narrowed her eyes and rose to face Shrilynda defiantly.

"Insolent brat," Shrilynda huffed, glowering. "Someday you will learn to fear me."

She would be foolish not to fear Shrilynda. Rin turned her attention back to her patient to avoid further retaliation.

With thinly masked frustration, Shrilynda also turned her focus away from the ungrateful girl to the Prince.

"My, he is a nuisance," Shrilynda said, shoving him with her foot. "He is taking up my kitchen floor."

"If you prefer he recover out of sight," Rin suggested, taking advantage of Shrilynda's annoyance, "you might move him to my room."

With an irritated sigh, she mumbled a half-hearted spell, snapped her fingers, and the Prince disappeared. "There. Now go away. I'm tired of seeing you."

She made a motion with her hand like she was swatting a fly, and Rin gladly returned upstairs to find the Prince, still asleep, on Rin's small bed. His forehead was warm to the touch but not burning; his fever had almost gone. She perched on the edge of her occupied bed, uncertain how to proceed. This was the closest she had ever been to anyone near her age, let alone a person as pleasant to look at as he was. The men in her small village were generally ill-tempered ogre-like figures like Namon and Perabsen. There was a young guard a year ago, she reflected, but he had been eaten by something on one of his trips through Mist Marsh. This Prince was different and interesting, even if he was getting mud all over her blankets.

Rin sighed and set to removing his bedraggled clothes. The act was similar to peeling an onion; he was wearing many layers of strange clothing. She peeled them off to a layer that was satisfactorily dry. She assumed the Malum must have taken him by surprise, because he was fit and otherwise healthy enough to have put up a fight. She assured herself he was uninjured besides the gash on his head and speculated he would recover quickly. She fetched a dry blanket and tucked the Prince in securely, satisfied she had done for him all she could and determined not to linger.

The howling wind was announcing the arrival of another gray day. The rain pounded on the roof and splashed dramatically on her window, but she heard no sound to indicate Shrilynda was still in the house. She breathed a sigh of relief. Life was easier whenever the touchy, demanding woman was gone. Free to venture downstairs once more, she took the Prince's sodden clothing down to wash it and hung it to dry in front of the crackling fire in the stove. She marveled at fabric that must have been white once and wondered how anyone could keep these clothes clean.

Rin ate a late breakfast absentmindedly, and brought some up to the Prince in the hope her patient was hungry. To her disappointment, he was still sleeping soundly.