The Given Garden

by S. K Munt

  Karol glowered at me, crossing his arms. ‘This debate could last for hours, so why don’t we save time and get right to the issue at hand- how can I prove to you that you can trust me? Because you’re not going to hear a word I say until you do, are you?’

  I was about to scream at him for missing the whole point, when it occurred to me that there was something that Karol could do to earn my trust. I straightened and crossed my arms across my chest as well, mirroring his pose. ‘You want me to trust you? Then fine.’ I swallowed and then asked: ‘Tell me why Martya never made it to St Miguel, and then tell me where she is. No lies, no touchy-feeling Nephilim sedation… I want the truth without the special effects.’

  Karol’s brow creased immediately. ‘Who told you that she didn’t make it to St Miguel?’

  ‘Does that matter?’ I asked icily, feeling fear thread its way through my intestines now that he’d acknowledged that she hadn’t made it.

  ‘I guess not but… we’d hoped that you wouldn’t find out…’ Karol bit his lips and stared hard at his forearm for a moment before saying. ‘Martya didn’t make it to St Miguel, because the carriage that she was traveling in that night went off a ravine in the snow.’

  ‘No!’ I cried, digging my fingers into my sides as tears pooled in my eyes, hot and stinging. ‘No! That can’t be true!’

  They killed her! The king had her killed for defying him, I just know it! She pushed him too far and he pushed back, just as I feared he would!

  ‘But it is,’ Karol lifted his gaze to me and I was surprised to see what looked like genuine empathy playing across his handsome features. ‘The upper Cali coast was under for months at the start of the year, remember? I didn’t get to the scene myself of course, but according to the Shepherd and doctors who attended to it, the tracks of the horses and her carriage went right off the side of the cliff and into the water below. I guess the driver got confused in the blizzard, but we can’t even ask him what happened because they were both killed.’

  I began to cry. ‘No!’ I repeated, burying my face in my hands. ‘No!’

  ‘I’m sorry Larkin- really I am. Martya would have proven to be an asset to the kingdom, so this was a tragic loss for all of us.’

  ‘If it was so tragic, why haven’t I learned of it until now?’ I demanded. ‘And how am I expected to believe that my friend pissed off the king of Arcadia and then was accidentally killed in a blizzard that took place even though the thaw was already underway here?’

  Karol looked confused. ‘Are you suggesting that her accident was orchestrated by my father in a moment of anger?’

  ‘Are you telling me that that is impossible?’ I asked sharply, holding the anger up around me to keep the pain of loss from taking hold on my soul.

  ‘Yes,’ Karol said, looking as genuinely angry now as he had looked empathetic only minutes ago. ‘Not only is my father above such wicked things as assassinations- which you should know- but there is a report to back the accident which collaborates with everything that I have just told you, from the weather to the fate of the driver. I know you’re upset, which is precisely why we kept this from you girls for these past three months while you were staring down the barrel of your sixteenth birthdays, but I won’t have you making accusations against the crown in return for my honesty, Larkin. Martya knew that it would be unwise to travel south that night, and my father tried to convince her to wait around for a few days until the highways were clear, but she insisted that she leave that very night, probably in a state of paranoia similar to the one currently plaguing you, and she paid for it with her life.’ There was a louder splash as Karol rose from the water and ascended the steps to me, making no move to hide himself behind a towel to conceal his still engorged member, but I was too heartbroken to care anymore and could barely see him through my tears. ‘The Arcadian kings reward intelligence, and it would have suited our purposes better to keep Martya alive until her pesticide proved successful, don’t you think?’

  I wiped at my face. ‘She did prove that it worked, that very night.’

  ‘On a small vegetable patch, yes,’ Karol snatched the towel from my waist and wrapped it around his own, and I was happy to let him. ‘Unfortunately, it has failed to protect a bigger area.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Either Martya wrote the formula down wrong, or the mix must be adjusted differently to what she believed, because the spray hasn’t worked anywhere but on your pumpkins, Larkin so unfortunately, her potential to free us of the locusts died with her, which wouldn’t have happened if she’d trusted us the way she ought to have, and stayed until the snow cleared.’ Karol tapped the end of my nose. ‘A fact you’d do well to remember from hereon out.’ Karol moved past me towards the door, and I turned to watch him go, not knowing what to feel. My grief for Martya was absolute, but I was feeling something other than just contempt for the heir of the Barachiel throne now as well. I’d always managed to balance my paranoia against my ability to read people and come out on top of potentially dangerous situations and though I was loathe to admit it- I found myself believing that the young, cocky prince was being honest with me. So did that mean that the gut feelings I’d been having concerning Martya’s fate for all these months were wrong as far as King Elijah was concerned, or had I simply sensed that her spirit had left the earth?

  ‘I want to trust you,’ I whispered to the prince as he sauntered away. ‘But that’s one more natural right denied to third-born children where the royal family is concerned.’

  ‘I know.’ Karol paused in the door and smiled back at me. ‘But believe me when I say that I’d never deny you anything if you looked at me the way you look at my brother, little Lark, and as I’ve been told- with the loss of liberty comes much pleasure.’

  I made a face at him. ‘You may not be a pimp in an alleyway in this life,’ I said, wiping away more of my tears. ‘But you could very easily have been one in the last.’

  Karol threw back his head and laughed before shaking his head and walking out the door. ‘The last word is yours, Miss Whittaker. Take it with pride.’

  And then I was alone in the steam room with my pride and little else, and when I got into my room and found an envelope with the royal seal embossed on the front on my pillow, I stared hard at it with a heart full of fear that I could not reason away.

  For the attention of Larkin Whittaker, from the desk of Kohén Barachiel.

  ‘He’s not coming back this month after all,’ Kelia said, eyeing me where I stood at the foot of my bunk, and my mood finished crashing, and burned. ‘One of the volcanoes erupted off the coast of one of the smaller native villages and caused a tidal surge that all but swept the island clear. Kohén doesn’t have to stay but apparently he wants to help his brother and the people affected by rebuilding the huts.’

  Tears welled in my eyes and I picked up the letter and frantically tore it open. ‘Is he okay? Has this letter been sent since or before?’

  Oh! Why didn’t I write to him? He must be out of his mind with worry already without having to wonder about my hostility!

  ‘It’s not a letter- it’s a telegram that was sent electronically to the administration. We all received one- his parents, his brother and The Given. Mine is an apology and an appeal for my prayers, as was Emmerly’s own. She has not stopped weeping since and fears that she will leave here penniless if he does not return soon.’

  I unfolded the piece of paper, and had almost given into a sigh of relief to know that Kohén was safe and well enough to send a telegram, but the words on the paper stole my breath.

  March 1st, AA643

  Larkin,

  I kiss like a live, slimy frog, do I? What an amusing way to describe it, though I do wish you had told me that in private rather than sharing it with Emmerly and the rest of your dorm-mates! At least one of you was honest enough to tell me, though!

  Well, do not fret for me- I have found native girls who have volunteered to teach me how to kiss, who assure me that I do it well now, pr
obably even better than you did. So rest easy, duckling- safe in the knowledge that I will never reach for you again- a promise I once made you that I regret having broken.

  It will not happen a second time.

  -Prince Kohén Barachiel of Arcadia.

  I crumpled up the letter, shaking with hurt and anger and betrayal, and more certain than ever that Emmerly was every bit as evil as Satan had been! I wrote him back, apologising for having mocked him and begging for his forgiveness and telling him that I missed him and had only said the frog thing to stop them from being jealous, but after six weeks had passed without me receiving a response, I understood Kohén had possibly just farewelled me even more coldly and with more finality than even my mother had… and it hurt twice as much.

  25.

  Summer, AA643

  Time dragged on until, and though I sent Kohén dozens of letters, and even received a few from Kohl encouraging me to keep writing because they were always the first that his twin opened and re-read the most, he did not write back and that made me feel more desperate than I had even conceived was possible.

  I did get a box of chocolates from Kohl though as yet another ‘early’ sixteenth birthday present, and they were delicious- coconut, coated in dark chocolate, and because I wanted him to have a gift from me too, I sent him a leather braided strap that I had fashioned with a pure blue beach-glass that I had found on one of our excursions. Coaxley helped me wear a hole through the stone and though the pendant wasn’t much, I hoped he’d be touched that I’d tried, for I didn’t earn a wage to buy treats with. I also sent him one of the reprinted copies of Gone With The Wind, which Lindy had bought at my insistence but not finished.

  I finished half of the chocolates while in a depressed state, and then gave the other half to Lindy when she came in to measure me for the gown I was supposed to wear to Kohén’s sixteenth birthday ball in a few weeks- if he made it back in time. She wept and hugged me, telling me that I was special and that my ball gown would prove it to everyone.

  I told her there would be another box of chocolates in it for her if she made me the plainest dress imaginable, but she didn’t heed me and when I opened the garment box a month later and saw what she’d made for me, it was my turn to cry, because I only had to look at it once to know that Emmerly would rip it, and me, to shreds if I wore it. I thanked Lindy profusely, and then immediately started to plan out the illness I would feign on the day of the ball so that I would never have to be seen in public in something so attention-seeking.

  *

  The days of April and May ticked away as steadily as ever, and when the palace began to hum with excitement over the first ball to be thrown in Prince Kohén’s honour, I began to pray that he would miss the boat because his tongue got knotted with some native girl’s and made him late. I could have and should have been excited to attend my very first party, but fear over spending the whole night being whispered about kept my eagerness to dance and drink wine at last and rub shoulders with the other people in Arcadia at bay. I still wasn’t a graceful dancer like Emmerly, but I did find it entertaining and cathartic the way I found every other sport to be, so long as I didn’t have to worry about being graded that was, and I thought that Kohén had earned himself a celebration for all of his hard work. But why did it have to happen now while he and I were in such a strange place? It could have been so much fun if it had happened before our fight, and before Martya had left us!

  Then suddenly it was June third- the day before the ball and Kohén’s ship had still not come in and suddenly, I felt awful for having wished away his birthday celebrations because it seemed as though the ball was going to have to be cancelled, if not postponed. Preparations had been underway for weeks by then, and the castle had been charged with a sort of excitement that Coaxley swore was mirrored down in Arcadia, and even the duchess had been in a radiant mood because of it all- even smiling at me once when I offered to help arrange the vases of flowers the evening before.

  But when night fell without Kohén’s carriage bringing him home, spirits fell as well and Eden had never been such a miserable place as it was then. Plans were abandoned, and foods went into storage. The Given girls cried for their disappointment- all of them, even Kelia- and I stared at the box under my bunk and chewed on my lower lip, wondering if my prayers had brought this upon us. Had God finally heard me and intervened?

  I wasn’t just upset about the fact that Kohén wasn’t back yet, but worried! We’d received word that he’d boarded the ship so where was it? He was a week late! What if they’d been run aground on some thawed rock ledge somewhere? What if it had sunk during a squall? What if I never saw Kohén again? All of us Given girls would be released and that was a silver lining, but it was one I’d hang myself with in guilt if I never saw my best friend again.

  If he never held me again.

  If he never again pressed his lips to mine.

  I was in love with Kohén, and the longer he stayed away, the plainer that fact became. I had no reason to have faith in him, but I did. I had every reason to hate him, but I did not. I should have been left cold by his kisses but he’d heated my blood until my very being had simmered and now I could see that Martya had been very right- I’d given him my heart and though I would never trade my freedom to get into bed with him, part of me was wondering what could happen if I were made nobility and if I took Kohén up on his offer and moved to Pacifica with him… would he come to love me too? Would we marry? Probably not, because in a week’s time I’d be rendered infertile for life and the Prince of Arcadia could not marry a barren woman, but maybe we’d have a chance to have something beautiful and chaste before it was time for me to go. My existence would never be a perfect one like in fairy tales, but our world was only almost perfect, so an almost-perfect life lived within it was more than anyone could ever hope for and if I got to experience real, fuagacious love, that would be perfect enough for me.

  But only if I got my freedom after.

  Either way, I had to see him again to sort it all out, and perhaps even kiss him again. And if something had happened to him while we were at odds and he had perished on the Pacific than I would never, ever forgive myself!

  The four of us left in the dormer slept fitfully that night, but when Kelia woke up in the morning and saw the servants unloading baggage on the rear lawn, her shriek of glee roused us all.

  ‘He’s here!’ she squealed, jumping off her bed and rushing to press her face to the glass. ‘Kohén’s back!’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Lette demanded, racing to her side and throwing up the sill. ‘So the staff are unpacking a carriage, so what? We’ve had visitors arriving for this party for weeks!’

  ‘But look- the luggage is stamped with the royal seal and look- over there! A band is setting up in the courtyard! The ball is happening so he MUST be back!’

  Elfin cheered as she got out of bed, but I burrowed down in my own comforter and stared at the ceiling, trying to clear my mind and calm my hammering heart. Kohén was back, yes, but now the ball was on after all and the only dress I had to wear would make a complete spectacle of itself and its wearer. I wanted to rush out of the room and seek Kohén out, but if I did that, I wouldn’t be able to feign illness after and would have to go. What was I going to do?’

  ‘What time is it?’ Elfin demanded of Lydia when she entered our room a moment later with a loaded tray of breakfast dishes. I grimaced at the sight of her lugging that thing around in her condition and slowly got out of bed so I could take it from her, but not with as much agility that I usually would have.

  ‘It’s eleven, Miss Elfin,’ Lindy said, giving me a grateful smile as I deposited the tray on the table in our common living space. ‘And I heard your shrieking a moment ago so yes- you’ll be pleased to know that Kohén arrived safely a few minutes ago and so, the ball is still on.’

  Lette and Kelia whooped in delight and immediately began to race around the room and my thoughts followed suit. What was I going to do?! I coul
dn’t wear that dress, I just couldn’t!

  ‘I have to get ready!’ Kelia cried.

  ‘I need hours! Lindy, are the alterations done on my hem? Send up one of the stylists when you fetch it for me please- Maryah said we could have them do our hair tonight and I’m first in line!’

  ‘We don’t have much time!’ Elfin despaired. ‘The supper starts at four on the common!’

  ‘But that’s just five hours! It will take half of that to do my hair!’

  ‘Oh no it won’t! There are four of us, and one of them at our disposal so you’ll share or do your own hair!’

  ‘Or what?’

  ‘Or I won’t do your make up with gold like you wanted!’

  ‘Ooh! You witch!’

  The sound of their squabbling made up my mind for me. ‘Someone can have my time with the stylist,’ I croaked, making my voice sound rough as I padded back to my bunk. ‘I don’t think I’m going to be able to go. I don’t feel good at all.’

  ‘Larkin!’ Lindy rushed to my side as Kelia gaped at me like I’d just denounced God. My maid pressed her hand to my forehead and stared at me with concern. ‘What’s the matter? You don’t feel hot.’

  ‘I just feel listless… and my throat hurts.’ I pushed her hand away from me. ‘In fact, you probably shouldn’t come to close, for I’d hate for you to get sick too.’

  Her eyes widened with concern- for her unborn child of course- and she backed up a few steps. ‘Should I send up a doctor for you? Maybe even ask Karol if he’d-’

  ‘No!’ I coughed out, feeling genuinely unwell at the idea of Karol touching me to heal me. ‘Please… just let me go back to sleep and I’ll see how I feel later, okay? I was very worried about Kohén all night so it’s possible that I’m just exhausted, and losing sleep to a medical visit won’t cure me of that.’