Chapter Eight

I do not know if I will ever see Pearl Solstice again. She seemed kind, if a little naive. Very starstruck and name-droppy, if that's a thing. I had no idea what His Highness (must I call him that?) had in mind. I should have led her out— but how? My life is loyalty. My loyalty is life. The man would kill me if he saw that I led her out. And Mom…she already lost Dad. How can she lose me?

"You are half-elf," she warns me, "Human women don't usually go for elves. You need to be careful."

Well, Dad was an elf.

"We were an exception. Our marriage was out of necessity, not love."

Mom is stressed, as usual. Warning me about love. Banging round the kitchen, cooking as the Imperial Family demands, but…I think, deep down, she wants me to find a wife. She wants me to have a family of my own, a family that doesn't have to scrape by on callused hands and half-empty bellies. But I also think she wants me happy. Women make me happy. Togetherness makes me happy.

Will I ever see her again? If I do, I will feel warm and cozy inside— even if I have to feel it behind the Prince

—from the diary of Tadashi

Pearl's heart pounded. She trudged past the Palace's Western-style garden, past prickly bushes sculpted into hourglasses and square mazes swaying with soft pink roses. She trudged past the traditional Japanese garden, with its smooth stones and dark evergreens that glowed within the glasslike pond. Yet she knew Grandma and Hajime preferred the rippling green-black trees of the forest. She couldn't find them anywhere. She felt stupid, thinking they'd be back at the inn, but wasn't that where they usually where? They must have gone looking for me...dammit, why did I have to be so...?

She looked back at the pond, at the massive white Palace reflected in the motionless water. I'm not here to escape, Pearl reminded herself, I'm here to practice water-gazing, maybe tell them goodbye.... Wait! When did Hinata say he'd be back?! I'd better make this quick.

Pearl walked to the Japanese garden, closely examining the pond. The silver water glinted gently in soft amber sunlight. She crouched to her knees and grabbed a pebble, running her fingers over the cool, smooth texture. Now, how did the old man do it?

She tossed the pebble in, but at a different, higher angle than Hajime showed her. It left three ripples, so she closed her eyes and made up a spell on the spot:

"Rock and river, stone and sea,

Become strong to show me all I can be!"

Her eyes shot open. The water bubbled into a light lavender as small winged orbs fluttered from the depths. A sharp ivory glow cascaded across the rocky ground and over Pearl's long legs. She stepped back, transfixed by the strange sight.

"This man is dangerous."

The thunderous voice rolled slowly over her ears, like she was made of grass. It pulsed under her skin. It burned with each breath she took. It stung to speak. Several old, black pebbles rose slowly in the water. Then, she heard nothing, but saw a dusty whisper wilting with the other ancient stones.

"This man," she saw in the cracked stones, "Is dangerous."

Pearl laughed out loud. The Prince? Pffft! He's only inviting me to the wedding, and I am a journalist, after all. Don't be ridiculous!

She turned and walked toward the Palace, heart pounding in her chest. They never said the Prince directly...maybe it's warning me about the Emperor or...Hajime? No! He's Grandma's lover! How could he be...?

A light flickered on in the guest house. She saw it in an upstairs window, as two figures scurried down the hall. Huh. Servants! That's one thing I can't get used to...people following me around, cleaning up after me...a bit invasive, hmm. I should remember that for the article-- if I ever get around to writing it.

A small, pale-gray stream of smoke caught her eye. She shuddered and turned towards its long, snaking direction. It came from an ivory bench, from a plump young man with shaggy hair. He inhaled deeply, and blew a large ring of smoke. A long cigarette perched elegantly between two chubby fingers. She leaned closer— Tadashi?! He smokes?!

"Tadashi," she cried, "Tadashi, is that you?"

The kitchen servant shook, lifting a finger to his lips.

"Oh, right!" she gasped.

"I'm on break," he whispered, "But I don't want to…interfere."

"Interfere?" she asked, "With what?"

Tadashi lifted his eyebrows.

"With…you know! Your, ah, affair."

"We're not having an affair!"

"Oh. Right. I see."

Pearl frowned, unimpressed by his flat tone.

"I'm there for the interview— and because he invited me. I can't just walk out...not out of his guest house!"

"He's getting married, and it's nice that you're interested, but I think you should leave if you still have time. I'll even arrange for your cab."

He smiled, revealing a deep dimple. Her heart fluttered. Sheesh! He sure was haaaandsome!

"I don't mean to interfere! I really don't! You've got it all wrong...!"

He inhaled again, not believing this. She shook her head. What do I want with him anyway— a lowly servant?! He may be cute, but he doesn't have the...well, I did feel a hand on my breast last night....

"I-I could be wrong." he said, "Time isn't kind to a fool like me."

"You're no fool. At least not that I see."

Tadashi blushed and chuckled.

"You're too kind."

"No. It's that…I guess nobody's been kind enough, to you." She felt something warm shift within her. "Would you like to come in with me? We can drink and talk…before my interview. I like to loosen up now and again."

She leaned forward, wrapping an arm around him. He blushed a deep-red, so she pulled away.

"I can't have Mom catch me again." His large eyes bulged. "Even worse, the Empress. You have no idea how they are, Miss Pearl."

"I've read about them. A lot."

"That's not the same as knowing them. If I told you half the things the Prince did, you wouldn't believe me."

Pearl tipped her head back and laughed— a cold, high-pitched cackle.

"I think you just want to get in my pants!"

"What?!"

"You keep warning me about how bad the Prince is…why don't you just leave?!"

"It's not that simple. My mother and I are financially dependent on them…and being an elf sure doesn't help. We're seen as lesser, you could say."

Pearl sat beside him. She saw tears glow in his eyes; his sadness was too real to ignore.

"I always wanted to own a cafe. I wanted to cook and make people smile…you know how food is, it makes everybody happy." He smiled, deep dimples pinching his plump cheeks. "An outdoor cafe, with red-brick cobblestones and swirling black chairs— and so many flaky, buttery pastries, all washed down by sweet wine! I want to be that rock for people who don't have it."

"That's beautiful. Does the Prince know about your dream?"

"No. Not yet. Mom does, though— she keeps saying it's not practical, but deep down, I think she's proud of me for holding on."

"That's nice, but you should tell him. Maybe he'll understand, and let you go. How much money have you made over the years?"

"I-I'd rather not go into that. He'll probably laugh anyway."

"But are you going to follow your dream if you act embarrassed of it all the time? If you're embarrassed to follow it, you'll go so slow, you'll trip. You need to tell him— it's that simple."

A tear dripped down his cheek and vanished under his throat; time isn't kind to things that shine.

"But that's the problem, Miss Pearl. It isn't. If you think I can just waltz up to him and ask to quit, you're asking for me to sleep on the streets. Maybe even eat out of a garbage can!"

"So he'd leave you flat broke if you wanted to leave. That sounds a bit dramatic. You're a grown man; you should be able to do as you please."

"Pearl, you have no idea! You hardly know the man...or my mother, for that matter. They have fists with more iron than you'll ever feel!"

She rose and set her hands on her hips.

"Fine. Suit yourself, but don't blame me when you're stuck slaving away for another generation of kings!"

"I won't be; you just wait, you spoiled little…!" His tone hardened.

Pearl whipped her head around the corner, her dark eyes flashing with rage.

"What was that?!"

Oh, God, Tadashi thought, She's gonna kill me...!

"N-Nothing. I-I hope your article is worth it!"

Pearl opened the door and walked inside. A sudden wave of nausea churned her stomach. Maybe Tadashi's right. Something doesn't make sense here, and even a dumb bitch like myself knows it...! A week before the wedding, I stay here. That's odd. Very odd. I'm bored already! And I can't even write it off as an eccentric rich person thing.

"You should know, you're rich yourself."

She jumped at the cold, cackling voice. A muscular silhouette filled another doorway, before revealing its face in the light. The Prince! She exhaled in relief; of course it was him, she reminded herself, who else could it be?

"You...knew what I was thinking?"

He nodded quickly.

"I try not to do that too much; it stresses me out. But since you're a guest, I wanted to know more about you."

"How do you do that? Are you a wizard or something?"

The Prince nodded, chuckling.

"See? You're not the 'dumb bitch' you think you are! Give yourself some credit." He reached forward, patting her on the shoulder. "I'm not a witch or wizard, but I suppose you could say I've some...psychic tendencies."

"Speaking of tendencies, were my thoughts true?"

"My intentions are pure, Miss Pearl. I love the Princess Achara, and I've never been more excited to marry her. You are a journalist-- but first of all-- a guest. And a kind, smart one at that. Why would I see you any other way?"

Pearl cocked her head to one side, like a bird.

"Tell me one good thing about Princess Achara."

"You don't believe me?"

"I'm a journalist, like you said. I want to know these things."

The Prince cleared his throat, shuffling his black-slippered feet into place.

"She's a very talented singer. And not only that, she has the...big personality of a star. So open and giving, I can hardly believe I'm talking to a Princess." He lifted an eyebrow. "She watches a lot of old American shows, like you. But she remembers the episode of I Love Lucy where they met Marlon Brando."

Pearl frowned. How could I forget that? He played the congos!

"In love by a hair...huh!"

"Eh? I love her enough to marry her. Sure, it was arranged, but it was perfectly arranged." He gave her a half-smile. "The wedding will be your paradise-- a butler announcing the names of princes and princesses from around the world-- all elegant and glowing. A live string quartet. Butlers serving drinks. You'll be wearing the finest dress and jewelry, talking to the luckiest souls the world has ever known...."

"I-I can't wait!" She paused. "But...you sound more like you're in love with...me."

The Prince raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You've hardly talked about Achara since I got here. The focus has been more and more on me." She chuckled. "You're blushing. I see it!"

"I...." His jaw dropped and he bent forward, kissing her cheek. "I'm only looking out for you. Journalism is dangerous work."

"Not so dangerous that I have to hide."

"But if the Princess sees you right away, she'll think odd thoughts."

"Not if I introduce myself."

"Still, you underestimate the minds of the Imperial family. What will my parents think of you? Some sweet, intelligent, yet adorably naive, elf-woman appears before the fiancee? Mother will do everything in her power to poison you with hazelbell! No, no-- you still have to wait."

Pearl's jaw tightened with rage.

"I'm not strange. And I'm not stupid enough to be poisoned!"

The Prince smirked, nearly halving his chiseled face.

"You're too sensitive."

The words hit Pearl like slaps. She flinched at his pointed tone; too sensitive! Well…I suppose I am, every now and then. Her muscles relaxed at his touch, at the way his warm hand ran down her cheek, her neck, her side, her thigh….

"You don't really want to meet Achara, do you?" he purred, "You only want me."

"But I…I hesitated."

"That never happened. You answered all my questions, accepted all my knee-rubs…you want me, Miss Pearl."

Pearl's jaw dropped, and the words jumbled in her throat.

"No! I-I-I…don't think I…I only want to see the Princess Achara. At least before the engagement photos! There will be photos, will there? She's so pretty, so talented, so kind! Or so I've heard?"

The Prince snorted at the mention of the Princess' assets.

"There already were. I sense your attraction to me…your face gives it away."

Pearl blushed, and the Prince yanked his hand away.

"If you must know, you are pretty— but Achara is the one who has it all— so to speak."

Pearl nodded slowly.

"Now, rest easy, Miss Pearl. You'll interview Princess Achara tomorrow."

"Why not tonight? I'm fascinated."

"It's not good for Achara's health. She sleeps early, to save her voice."

I haven't heard her once, thought Pearl, And she sings opera, so that's saying a lot!

"I understand. I'll talk to her tomorrow."

The Prince reached for a fluffy gray leopard-print sherpa on the table and handed it to Pearl.

"Here. You look cold."

"Thank you, Your Imperial Highness," she said, sliding her arms inside the holes.

She sat atop the bed and the Prince opened the drawer to the bedside table. I know I should leave, she thought, But everything about this place is so...interesting!

"You'll love this, Miss Pearl," he said, handing her a paper-thin TV, "I've got every single I Love Lucy episode on there-- including the Marlon Brando one. It's my favorite."

Pearl grinned, but inside her heart pounded.

"Really? Oh, thank God! In English?"

"English and Japanese."

"Oh, that sounds amazing! I'll watch the English first, and maybe the Japanese-dubbed of...I don't know, Vitameatavegamin?"

"No problem. Would you like anything to eat or drink?"

"Oh...well, I don't want to trouble the kitchen staff at this hour."

The Prince laughed and clasped his hands together.

"You don't have to! I can make some popcorn and wine-- if you'd like."

"Oh." She frowned, carefully guarding her suspicious thoughts against this mind-reading royal. "Well, maybe some water."

The Prince nodded and vanished across the hall, deep into an unseen room of the guest house. Pearl flipped on the portable TV and scrolled to the episode: "Lucy Meets Marlon Brando." She tried to focus on the show, on its zany slapstick, witty jokes, and Lucy's electric-blue eyes bulging as a young, handsome Marlon Brando strode across the screen. She giggled. But she couldn't laugh or relax fully-- something felt off about this Prince...this man. She giggled again at the show. This is funny, though! The man's got taste! And he is nice, but....She shook her head. Too nice. And too thin! The more I think of it, the more I prefer a man with a little meat on his bones. My dream boyfriend is good and stocky, with a soft fatty belly over the belt. They just look so cozy, so manly, so...oooohh! Annnnnyway, isn't he supposed to marry Princess Achara?

"A real Prince is a gentleman to all women," she recalled her father saying (funnily enough, an old, fat, still-handsome Marlon Brando clone.), "It may appear that he's being fresh, but in today's world, kindness is too often mistaken for attraction."

Yes...the Prince smiles with his eyes...damn! I really should be planning for that interview....

"Miss Pearl," his voice interrupted her thoughts, "Here's your popcorn."

He handed her a large ivory bowl of golden, buttery microwave popcorn, and set a tall glass of water on the nightstand's crocheted coaster. She scooped a hand into the popcorn and took a bite. Nice and buttery...just how I like it!

"Thank you. This is delicious, Hinata-Sama!"

"Of course, and you can watch the Japanese-dubbed Vitameatavegamin, if you'd like."

Pearl shook her head.

"I'd love to, but I've really got to start writing my questions for tomorrow's interview with the Princess."

"Ah, yes! What was I thinking?" He slapped himself across the forehead. "I hope inspiration finds you well, Miss Pearl!"

She reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a pen and notepad. (Good as any!)

"Thank you, Hinata-Sama."

Prince Hinata blushed.

"Oh...you don't need to be so kind."

He smiled at her, before turning towards the doorway and vanishing into the night. How interesting-- he hardly gives me time to think of the Princess! She pulled the sherpa off, and around her like a blanket. She yawned. The oval window swirled with a blue-black sky that glowed with gold-white stars, pulling her eye towards it. She took a deep breath. As the sky dreamed of bright blue tomorrows, the soft earth cracked under the weight of cruel yesterdays.

Can I do this? Interview the Princess-- all while staying in the guest house? The Prince is a little strange, but he did give me snacks and a show. So far so good.....

Pearl's heart pounded. Grandma Bathilde must be hysterical. She must be sobbing into her pillow, soaking it in tears. Hajime must be struggling to comfort her, rubbing her red eyes and brewing tea. She says she's going to die, but aside from that one day-- she seemed well. Her stomach lurched. Ohhh, I shouldn't have been such a brat! I should apologize-- if that's all I get to say, I'll say it.

She blinked. Then again, there was her job, and Grandma Bathilde would be proud to hear that she interviewed a Princess. After all, Bathilde helped raise the Princess of the Giants-- later the indomitable Queen Clotilda Hua. Why wouldn't she erupt into one of her crinkle-eyed, dimple-cheeked grins?

Maybe for a little while longer, she thought, I'll find them soon-- maybe not stay for the wedding, but the interview beforehand. He is awfully nice.

Maybe for a little while longer, he thought, She is awfully pretty. My virginity, her virginity...! 'Twill soon be gone, and I can smell the raspberries of elf blood.