The Caged Bird

33. A Second Chance

Security had been greatly increased in the castle to prevent any harm from coming to Lark. She was always accompanied by a guard, often several, and moved carefully through the broad corridors and halls she had come to memorize. She had not seen Vayn for many weeks but knew she was still hidden somewhere in the harem on the other side of the castle. Though she had been to visit Ariane she had seen no sign of her former rival. She was curious as to her fate but resisted the urge to investigate. It was better to remain entirely separate from her. She was confident that Vayn was no longer a threat. She had been promised a new life. Lark only hoped that she would be granted it soon. But she had noticed her own fatigue as time passed. She spent every night in August's arms and wondered if she might be exerting herself too much with the planning and execution of wedding plans. She had also been taking the initiative to study the role of a noblewoman. She was aware that August did not expect her to fully take part in her new position but she had no intention of ignoring her new duties. In fact she looked forward to the possibility of having more purpose in her life. Helping to run the territory would give her an outlet for her endless curiosity and desire to learn. But she was so easily tired after only a few hours of study and her appetite had increased. As the wedding approached she knew there could only be one explanation. She was pregnant.

She wasn't sure whether she should call for a doctor or inform August of her suspicions. If she lost the baby she could only imagine that August would be devastated. But it seemed wrong to keep the possibility to herself. Seeking out a doctor would raise August's suspicions and she was never alone. Regardless of when she met with them he would quickly discover the truth. One evening as she helped him dress before a meeting with William, Lark took August by the hand and led him to sit beside her on the couch.

"August I need to tell you something," she said softly. August could see from the look on her face that she was nervous. And she was. What if she was wrong? What if she miscarried? How would she reconcile her grief? But she knew she could not keep her worry to herself. She hadn't even been able to tell Sara yet. Her courage had failed her every time she tried to breach the subject. But she wouldn't allow herself to be weak this time.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently. He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She had just taken it down to prepare for bed. Recently she hadn't been able to stay awake past nightfall as easily as before. She was just so tired. A wave of exhaustion crashed into her as she tried to think of what to say. The touch of his fingertips on her temple made her feel calmer and more settled. She dared to look him in the eyes.

"I think I might be carrying your child," she said quickly. The words poured out so quickly that August was taken aback. He seemed unwilling to accept the news and sat stiffly, unsure of how to react. "I cannot be sure," she continued. "But I would like to request a doctor to be sure. I thought I should be honest with my intentions. I know I have not been entirely myself over the last few weeks."

August nodded silently. She had been more moody and particular about what she was served for meals. She slept longer and dreamed more. He had never guessed that this could be the reason. It seemed unlikely that he would ever have the chance to meet another compatible partner. He held in any excitement or premature celebration. There was no guarantee. His face darkened. Even if she was pregnant it would be difficult to ensure that she and the child would be safe. He managed to smile but couldn't hide the worry etched across his face. Lark squeezed his hand comfortingly.

"It's only a guess. Perhaps I am mistaken."

August sighed deeply.

"Do not misunderstand me. It would be the greatest joy of my life to welcome a child of my own. But the road ahead is perilous for us all. If the child even survives to be born. I do not wish for you to suffer." Lark shook her head but knew his worry was not unfounded. It would not be easy to move forward with her life if her child did not survive. The grief would be acute and overwhelming. But she knew she would find a way to overcome it.

"I will send for a doctor," he concluded. He rose to his feet and Lark hurried to stand with him and walk him to the door. He dropped a kiss on her head and she tried to smile as he exited. Two guards flanked the entrance and she felt safe within August's chambers. But she longed to escape to the freedom of the courtyard. She would be permitted to visit with guards standing by but it wasn't the same as her evenings strolling in private, feeding King from her hand. She hadn't seen the raven for many days. He visited very rarely recently, spending more time with his own blossoming family. He had brought his wife and daughter to meet Lark and she had delighted in watching them squabble over treats. He had brought her some small gifts including a tiny silver key which now hung around her neck on a chain. Though most of his gifts were kept in a small chest in her chamber she liked to keep this one close. She stepped into the hallway and was led to her own chamber by a guard. Now that the feeding room held their prisoner, this was her only way to move between their two rooms. When she entered she saw that Sara was gone, likely visiting Bernard or perhaps she was already asleep. She rushed into the small private courtyard attached to her chamber, hoping King would be there waiting for her. But he had not come. She found a single black feather resting on the stones even in the dark and picked it up to tuck it behind her ear. But she was startled by a loud banging on the door to the feeding chamber. Devroe was usually a quiet prisoner, slowly wasting away in the dark. But he had become more reactive as his hunger increased. He could smell her flesh through the heavy doors. Blinded by his hunger he screamed out to her. But Lark ignored him. She lit a lantern hanging in the garden and worked on her most recent embroidery. In between time with August and planning their upcoming wedding she had started a new project as a gift for her betrothed. She slowly and deliberately stitched two black swans embracing in a silvery lake. Each black thread represented her worries and as they were transformed became luxuriant feathers and gentle sloping shapes she felt them begin to fade away. She worked for hours until the light began to spread slowly across the sky and she finally fell asleep still seated on the stone bench in the courtyard.

As her embroidery fell to the soft grass beneath her feet Lark was safe from what was occurring just inside her chamber. She was not awoken by the heavy sound of doors opening and closing or by the quiet shuffling and grunts of an altercation. By the time her body had relaxed completely onto the cold stone and her discomfort roused her to wakefulness her chamber appeared to be undisturbed. She returned to her bed groggily and collapsed back into a dreamless sleep. She was completely ignorant to how close she might have come to her own death. What had occured was not discovered until the following night. Lark had spent her day lounging in the courtyard awaiting the arrival of the doctor. She would not come until the following evening but Lark was too anxious to focus on much more than her embroidery and a review of her gown alterations. Even if she was pregnant her measurements would hardly be changed by the time of the wedding. It was less than a week away now. But as she held the fabric in her hands that would soon be her wedding dress the door to the feeding chamber flew open and a dark form burst forth in a frenzy and placed its hands around her neck.