Day Four - 1,070

John William Waterhouse, The Crystal Ball, 1902
The Collection

Jetta’s eyes slid to the scene outside her new window. The king had been right: the view was beautiful. However, she still felt captive. Only eighteen hours before, five guards had arrived at her mother’s humble hut in the countryside outside the kingdom, demanding to see Jetta.

“What could you want with my Jetta?” Faylin had asked, standing defensively in the doorway.

“The king requests her talents. We are to take her to him immediately.”

It was then Jetta looked up from her needlepoint at the fire.

“What talents?” she asked, playing dumb. She did not have even a sliver of an idea as to how anyone had found out about them.

“You know very well which talents we speak of. You’ve an hour to gather your belongings. Do not attempt escape – we will be waiting for you outside.”

“Oh,” another of them added, “and you’ll be provided most of the necessities. Eventually you will be fitted by a new wardrobe by the king’s seamstress and you will have a room of your own immediately.”

Faylin shut the door after offering the men a drink.

“I do not want to go, Mother,” Jetta said.

“Think of the opportunity, Jetta! You must go!”

“But what about the farm? What about you?”

“I will manage. I imagine you will earn wages. You can send some to me, and I shall be even better off than I am now. And you certainly will as well. Imagine! Living in the king’s castle!”

“As his servant!”

“I think not. Given your talents they will likely nurture them as much as possible. Yes, I think you could manipulate them into giving you quite the room! Living like a princess. Oh, and you shall become such friends with the princess!”

“Not with the prince, I imagine. I’ve heard he is pompous.”

“Nonsense. Come now, have you your brush?”

All the while she talked, Faylin continued getting Jetta’s items together. Finally, Jetta’s few bags were being loaded onto the carriage. She hugged her mother tightly, trying not to cry.

“Goodbye, Mother. Please visit! I’m sure they will allow it. They must.”

And now she was here, gazing into her crystal ball needlessly. Her vision was not something she could easily control. The king, however, did not understand this.

There was a knock at her door.

“Yes,” she said, unsure of how to respond.

It opened. A man stood with a glass of what appeared to be wine and a book. He tossed his dark curls out of his eyes.

“Hello,” Jetta said carefully. “I’m sorry, I’m—“

“Yes, new, I understand.” He laughed. “I should have announced myself. I am Blakely.”

The crystal ball fell from Jetta’s hands. She stooped and groped at the air for it, just managing to catch it in her skirts.

“You mean Prince Blakely?”

“Well, yes. May I. . .?” he said, gesturing to her room.

“Oh, yes, of course. Come in. Please. I, um. . . .” It occurred to her that there was nowhere in her room to sit. In organizing her books and things, they had become rather disorganized. She started cleaning up the clutter hurriedly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting—“

“Not another word on it. I only came to introduce myself and offer you a glass of wine. You must be thirsty. We do not supper for another few hours, but I understand we are having quite a feast tonight in your honor.”

Blakely offered her the glass of wine and Jetta placed one of her books on the bookshelf. She took the wine from him then and jerked her hand back, sloshing the wine in the goblet. Some had spilled on the carpet below.

“Oh, I am so clumsy!” she exclaimed, hiding her face with one hand, embarrassed.

“Not at all. May I sit?” he asked, this time gesturing to the edge of her bed.

She hesitated, wondering if it was appropriate to have a man sit on her bed, even if it was the prince.

“I—yes,” she said.

“Thank you.” He seemed to be observing her room carefully, curiously. Then something occurred to him. “Oh!” he said, “I almost forgot! I brought this for you. You’re very fortunate that you were taught to read. It’s a guide to all the plants in our kingdom. I hope you haven’t one already. I hope you find it useful. I am quite interested in the flora of our kingdom myself. I am particularly interested in healing remedies. I suppose I spent a bit too much time with the resident midwife as a boy.” He laughed.

Jetta sipped at her wine.

“Your dress is marvelous,” he said.

“Thank you. I. . .it was here when I arrived. It fits very well.”

“Yes, I agree.” Blakely paused for a moment and Jetta continued to sip at her wine. “You are a quiet sort of girl, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, I suppose.”

“Why is that?”

“I have nothing to say.” She quickly amended herself. “I mean, in general. Not that you are not a wonderful conversationalist. You see, I grew up with just my mother and myself and we tended to the land and there never was much to say. We would read each other stories at night by the fire, but it just was not our way to converse much, for there was little to talk about, except for the crop.”

“Oh, yes, I see. That would have that affect, wouldn’t it? Well, I hope to have many conversations with you. Your profession interests me terribly.”

Jetta sighed. “Yes.”

“Is something the matter?”

“I only worry about my mother, living by herself.”

“You say you were her only companion?”

“Yes. We hadn’t neighbors for miles.”

“I’ve just the thing! Would she be very comfortable here?”

“I suppose she might.”

“Then I shall have her collected tomorrow. Then she will not be so lonely. And I hope it will ease your homesickness. I saw you watching out the window when I arrived.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!”

“Yes. I shall do that then. Would it be alright if I came to tell you when supper is ready?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, beaming. “Thank you so much for the wine, and the book.”

Blakely smiled, hiding his face slightly. Then he got up, and left.

Jetta slowly sat on her bed and began leafing through her new book, waiting for dinner.