The next evening, Lark was finally released by August's order. She was sent to her room in the harem but a guard was sent with her. He would be her shadow until she could regain the trust of the matron. Her lessons continued as she was asked to embroider a pattern on a muslin dress and practice a more complex waltz. A sense of normalcy returned. But she was still dissatisfied and her thoughts often strayed to the caged raven she had made. It now hung beside her bed as a reminder of her confinement. She felt a kinship to the corvid as she wandered through the opulent harem hall, surrounded by treasure but totally trapped. Her desperation to be free burned in her chest like a poison arrow. As she lost herself in thought she realized that she might have to earn the lord's trust if she wanted to have any chance to escape. She was so vulnerable and exposed, watched and scrutinized by every being in the castle. They were all aware of her failed attempt.
After dinner she found a letter on her desk along with a white rose from the garden. It was an invitation to join August for dinner. Lark was apprehensive. Was the whole harem attending? Why send an invitation? She was aware he could call on her any time. She was technically his property. But she was still furious that she had been thrown in a cell and didn't want to see him. She composed herself, remembering her earlier revelation. If he was pleased with her the pressure from the harem and matron would be lessened. She might have a chance to sneak away. Exasperated, she realized she had no choice but to attend. She stepped into the hall, followed closely by her guard. She handed him her invitation and he led her through the prison tunnel to August's wing.
She had expected to go to the main hall so was deeply unsettled as they passed her former cell. It had been emptied and the door stood open. The bare stone looked cold and unforgiving. Despite her anger she was grateful for the bed and other comforts she had been given while staying there.
They entered the dimly lit chamber and the guard brought her directly to August's solar, a small private sitting room with dark mahogany furniture and black walls. It was an oppressive space with a large portrait on the wall above the fireplace mantle. It was a woman. She had dark hair and hazel eyes. Though August himself was seated on a velvet sofa inside the solar, Lark's eyes were drawn to the portrait instead. The painting was beautifully rendered and she could tell it was probably a good likeness. The face was soft and natural and the subject was radiant. Lark thought it must be Ora. She tore her eyes from the artwork and found August. He was deeply engrossed in a book.
She sat on the matching couch across from him and glanced around the room. It had the same eerie darkness as the rest of his wing. There was a generous platter of food laid out on the low table between them. A variety of sandwiches, smoked fish, cakes, crackers and buns were arranged on a tiered tray with tea and wine in silver goblets. White rose petals decorated the black tablecloth. Candles filled the room and dripped wax onto the stone floors, creating a halo of light around them. August placed a mark in his book and set it down, nodding politely.
"Lark," he said softly in greeting. Lark inclined her head in return.
"My lord," she replied. "I appreciate your invitation."
He poured her a cup of tea and then served himself. The tea was floral and fragrant. Lark lifted her cup and saucer slowly and took a small sip. It was delicious and unlike anything Lark had ever tasted. She and August sat quietly and drank from their cups. They traded a few curious looks, but despite his invitation August seemed to have nothing to say. He cleared his throat, waving his hand over the meal on the table.
"Please do not wait for me. Help yourself."
Lark tried to eat delicately, but her hunger betrayed her.
"I regret having you put in the cell," he said suddenly. Lark paused for a moment, a sandwich between her fingers. She made eye contact, searching for a sign of his sincerity. "If you want to leave..." he hesitated. He seemed conflicted but took a deep breath and steadied himself. "I will not stop you."
Lark dropped the sandwich, unable to control the shocked expression on her face. It fell on her dress but she made no move to wipe it away. She felt a flash of joy before it was replaced by suspicion.
"Why?" she asked. Her voice was barely a whisper.
August's black eyes pierced through her. He was intimidating, refusing to avert his eyes. She stared back stubbornly.
"I don't keep human prisoners," he said slowly. "I may have paid for the humans that live here but most are here freely. A human imprisoned here that tries to escape could compromise the security of the kingdom. I don't want any human as an enemy."
Lark could feel her hands shaking. She had never expected this development. In a state of shock, she couldn't think of anything to say. August's intense stare made her flush red. He sighed quietly.
"You will be brought back to the village tomorrow evening. I only ask that you don't speak of your time here to anyone you don't trust. It was a pleasure to have you here." He rose to his feet and bowed to her stiffly before exiting the room. She was left alone with her thoughts. A guard stood at the door and beckoned to her. She obeyed, following him in a daze back to her quarters. She saw that her belongings had already been packed. Her embroidery pieces rested on top of a stuffed canvas bag. She saw that all of the clothing she had been given in the castle was packed for her. She was touched by her lord's generosity. All of the gifts she had received, including her necklace and a wooden flute, had all been gathered for her. She had assumed she would be leaving with no belongings whatsoever. With these objects she could easily start a life of her own in the village. They would sell easily in the market. Their excellent quality would probably be worth enough for her to buy herself a cottage.
Lark was suddenly overwhelmed with relief. Tears streamed down her face and she took her hair down from its pins and threw the bag over her shoulders. The guard led her through the castle and out a hidden entrance tucked into the Western wall. There were horses waiting. She was helped into her saddle to be led back to the village. As they rode away, Lark glanced behind her at the looming towers of the castle. August watched from a window and gave her a small nod as she met his eyes. She turned her face away, hit with an unexpected wave of sadness that broke through her excitement. She gripped her reins tightly, trying to focus on what she would say to all the children she had left behind in the orphanage. When they arrived at the main road, the guard left her with a brief farewell. She called after him to ask about the horse, but he waved off her question. She led the dapple mare to the center of the village, a large well surrounded by market stalls. No one seemed to recognize her but bowed their heads politely as she passed. From her horse and elegant gown they assumed she must be wealthy and likely high status. Most of the village people averted their eyes and whispered amongst themselves about her identity. She felt very conspicuous and vulnerable and quickly left the market. The orphanage was on the edge of town and she could see children playing outside as she approached.
She only recognized a few of them. In the weeks since she had left, many children had been adopted or sent into foster homes. They seemed in awe of her as she slid from the horse's back and led her into the yard.
"Are you a princess?" one of the young girls tugged at her dress. Lark smiled, lifting the girl into her arms.
"No, dear," she replied. "I used to live here. I'm just like you." The child seemed unconvinced, giving her a sour look.
"I don't have a dress like that," she exclaimed, tracing the embroidered flowers on Lark's gown with her finger. The older children followed them closely as they entered the orphanage.
"Well this was a gift," Lark explained. The child nodded but looked skeptical. They passed the main rooms and Lark found her former bedroom. No trace of her was left. A new child had taken her place. She took a few minutes to talk to some of the children in the yard that she remembered. They told her the orphanage mother was at the market. An older girl was in charge, chasing the younger children all over the house to wipe their faces and keep them from fighting. Lark assisted her, feeling a familiarity that she had been desperately missing while in the castle. But she also felt like a stranger. She no longer belonged here. It was a painful realization. She needed to find somewhere else to stay. Somehow her memories here had become less blissful. She remembered her hardships. She was raised without parents, taking care of other children since she was young, sometimes hungry after refusing to eat the same tasteless porridge day after day. She helped clean the main room of the home and began dinner preparations along with the older children. But she began to feel uneasy.
Before the orphanage matron returned, Lark returned to her horse and headed back towards town. She was worried that the reunion wouldn't be as happy as she had dreamed. Her choice to leave the lord would be a controversial one. It was probably for the best that she was not recognized for now. She pulled her cloak around her as she trotted down the road and towards the local inn. She was able to trade a silk scarf for a room and food for five days. But she expected she would be gone before then. Her freedom had been so unexpected that she hadn't had much time to plan her next steps. She crawled into her unfamiliar bed and tried to sleep, plagued by doubt and anxiety.