princes. “All of their things are indoors. It’ll be a lot easier for them to find.”
“We may as well do the best we can,” Eleanor said.
“Kaelen, I think you and I are supposed to work as a team for this activity. You received a paper with my name on it,” Leticia pointed out.
“Yeah, I did,” he replied, looking down at his list. “Our list is different from theirs even, so I guess we’ll see how we do.”
“No time like the present.” She accepted Kaelen’s offered arm. “See you back here, everyone.”
Lucian’s heart seemed to be bouncing between his throat and his shoes. The sonnet assignment. He’d been so busy with his other homework that he’d forgotten about that. “Well, erm, where shall we start?” he asked.
“I don’t believe we have a choice, Lucian,” Moira replied, looking at the list again. “The instructions at the top say we have to do each item in the order presented. It looks like first up is sonnets in Airlia’s classroom.”
Gulping, he offered Moira his arm. “Well, I guess that’s where we’ll start.” And finish, he thought miserably as he led Moira up the stairs.
“You seem tense,” she commented as they got to the classroom door.
“I’m just, well, I’m,” he stammered. Moira was still looking at him expectantly and he sighed. “Look, I’m a terrible poet. There’s not a single romantic bone in my whole body. Can we just take the loss on this one?”
“Absolutely not,” she retorted. “I don’t believe one word of that, Lucian. Not one word.” Without waiting for Lucian to do so, she opened the door and marched into the room.
Airlia was waiting inside and said, “Ah yes, I thought you were up first, Lucian. Although, you know a gentleman always opens the door for a lady.”
“That was my fault, Airlia,” Moira said. “I didn’t wait for him to open it.”
“I see. Well, it’s time for your sonnets. Lucian has written a collection of beautiful sonnets for you and has chosen two of them to recite. When he has finished, I need you to fill out this card for me.” She handed Moira a green piece of paper. “After that, you will give me the card and I will give you the collection of sonnets. Hopefully Lucian won’t be embarrassed by that.”
Lucian wasn’t sure that embarrassed was strong enough a word for what he felt right then. He was downright horrified. Moira turned to him and for a long moment he just stood there. “Well?” she asked.
“Your princess is waiting Lucian,” Airlia chided. “Go ahead.”
Taking a shaky breath Lucian began stumbling through his first sonnet. The more he said, the stranger the look on Moira’s face. He couldn’t tell if she was trying not to laugh at him or if she was trying not to cry. If it was the latter, he didn’t think it was because he had written so beautifully that her heart had been touched by his words.
When he finished she asked, “Was that it?”
“Um, yeah, for the first one.”
A knock at the door caused Airlia to get up and leave. “I’ll be only a moment.”
As soon as the fairy was gone and out of earshot, Moira hissed, “The next one better be really good, Lucian. That was pathetic. I can’t help you pass this if you spout off that kind of, of, well, there isn’t even a word for that.”
“I tried to tell you I was no good at this,” he whispered.
Spying Airlia coming back, Moira put on as sweet a smile as she could muster. “Whenever you’re ready for the second one, I would love to hear it.”
Lucian did not miss the sarcasm in Moira’s voice. Feeling hurt, angry and a bitter need to prove himself, he cleared his throat and closed his eyes. The second sonnet was the one Airlia had suggested would be the best to recite. When he reopened them, he looked into Moira’s eyes.
“Softly hedged in by thick golden lashes,
My love’s eyes are a mystery of blue.
Swirled emotions like ribbons and sashes
They dance in and out with varying hue.
At times like the sea on a calm spring day
They are bright and clear, full of light and joy.
Blue forget-me-nots under morning ray
Twinkling and beautiful, yet shy and coy;
Till they change and darken in sorrow’s grasp
And her eyes are deep, an unfathomed sea
Of darkest blue till when her hand I clasp
To ease her sadness and bring peace. I see
In her eyes that she is meant to be mine
And will treasure her ’til the end of time.”
It seemed an eternity that Moira just stared at him. She didn’t say anything and Lucian couldn’t quite tell what was going through her mind. Her expression had changed so drastically from the first sonnet that he wasn’t sure whether this had been a second failure or if maybe he had somehow succeeded. He just stared back into the eyes that had inspired him to write something that his teacher considered somewhat romantic.
“Okay, that’s enough, you two,” Airlia interrupted. They both blushed as she continued, “Moira, write your thoughts down on the card please and then I’ll give you the rest of the sonnets. Lucian, why don’t you wait for her outside?” She shuffled him towards the door. As she was closing it behind her she smiled. “You did very well on the second sonnet, Lucian. Very well indeed.”
Lucian waited outside for Moira for several moments. When she finally left the room she was holding a stack of papers. He recognized his handwriting on them and said, “Seriously, if you just want to throw those out without reading them, I’d feel a lot better.”
“I can’t do that, Lucian,” she replied. “I have to see if any of them are as good as that second sonnet you recited. I knew I shouldn’t believe that. Although, with that first sonnet I started to doubt you.”
“Well, then keep the good one and throw the rest of them out. I can guarantee you that the last sonnet I did in there is the best of the bunch,” Lucian insisted.
“I’d like to find out for myself. Now, where are we supposed to go next?”
Knowing that he’d lost the argument, Lucian sighed and looked at the paper. A checkmark had appeared next to the sonnets. “We’re supposed to go to the gym for dancing.”
The morning progressed through various classrooms as they were put through different tasks. Sometimes Lucian was the one challenged and sometimes it was Moira. By the time they had finished, they knew they were not the first to return to the dining hall. In fact, there was quite a crowd of students already returned from their tasks. Several of their friends were already in the hall sitting at a table together. Lucian and Moira joined them and they soon began talking again. “That was actually quite fun,” Leticia said as they were sitting down.
“It was,” Kaelen admitted.
“I don’t think the first part of ours was fun at all,” Lucian replied. “But I enjoyed some of it.”
“What was your first part?” Clarissa asked. “Ours took quite a while because of dancing.”
“Lucian recited some beautiful poetry to me,” Moira said.
“You and I have a very different idea of beautiful,” he teased with a smile.
“Well, our first part,” Leticia said, “was doing profiles in the art room. How many of you knew that Kaelen was such a good artist?”
Even with the fur, everyone could tell Kaelen was blushing. “I’m really not that good. I was just trying harder, I guess.”
“He’s being modest. His profile was actually very good. I’d say his was better than mine, but I’m also not much of an artist.”
“I’m glad I didn’t have to draw anything,” Lucian replied. “We’d still be in that room.”
The friends laughed and the conversation continued. They were enjoying themselves and hardly realized that the time was quickly escaping. All too soon, Melantha was gathering her princesses.
“I suppose I’ll see you at the end of the year,” Moira said as Lucian helped her with her cloak.
“Yeah, I’ll see you then. I’ve enjoyed
your letters, keep writing,” he added.
“I will as long as you promise not to withhold information from me again. I want to know about your successes, even if they don’t seem like a big deal to you,” she teased.
“Fair enough,” he replied with a smile. “You do the same.”
“I already have been.” For a moment they stood in silence, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye. As others walked around them, she finally said, “Well, goodbye Lucian. I’ll see you in a couple months.”
He smiled. “Goodbye Moira.”
It was not long at all after the princesses had visited, that the weather seemed to catch up to the idea of spring. Flowers blossomed and there was beauty everywhere; everywhere but the greenhouse. One sunny afternoon, the boys were in the greenhouse desperately wishing they could leave. The seeds they had planted had now sprouted and were no better now than they were when the boys had first planted them.
“Ouch!” George cried as one of the thistle plants he was working with shot a sharp spine into his arm.
“Careful now, George,” Russett said, moving over to where George was working. “You don’t want to give those a chance to shoot you. It doesn’t take long for a rash to develop around the hit area.” He gently pulled the spine out with a pair of tweezers before handing George a bottle of cream. “Here, that will ease the stinging.”
“They’d be easier to avoid if I had Lucian’s plant,” he muttered bitterly. “Why doesn’t his plant have any spines on it?”
Russett didn’t have a chance to answer as he was now helping Kaelen pull out several spines. His plant seemed particularly vindictive and had