Three clouds in the red sky

“Do you know you can wish for anything? I mean … If there is a red sky with three clouds in the morning. Then your wish will come true.”

Sharpening his sword, the guard didn’t look up but nodded.

“Three clouds, Sven. And a red sky.”

Still concentrating on his task, the silence grew and he cleared his throat. His eyes were still on the shining metal in his hands.

“What exactly do you mean by that? How can there be only three clouds?”

The light giggle made him smile involuntarily, but his focus didn’t waver.

“Well, you count them. One – two – three. And then your wish will come true. That is what they said.”

“Who told you this, my Lady?”

There was a pause and the knight looked at his young charge for the first time during their conversation. The busy hands rested after he put his sword flat on his thighs. A frown appeared on his face when the delicate girl opposite him avoided his gaze.

“My Lady. Who told you?”

Her cheeks bloomed like the red roses in the king’s palace. A fiery red. A stark contrast to her almost translucent pale skin. Her tiny chest moved quickly. Her fingers tightened around the embroidery frame.

“My Lady, I am serious. You know the rules. If you have talked to somebody …”

“I didn’t.”

Her eyes still downcast, Sven had to concentrate to hear the words. His chest felt stuffy.

Who knows about her staying here? It should be a secret.

With a distinct metal sound, the sword was pushed into the scabbard. Rough fingers were tapping on the small table. A quick rhythm like a caterpillar running along a branch. Finally, red eyes met with grey eyes. For a short moment before they moved away again.

“There really wasn’t anybody. Like …, I didn’t talk to anyone.”

The drumming stopped but the gaze didn’t waver. The frown was now a fixed expression.

“So, someone talked to you.”

Immediately, the head turned, small springs of white hair breaking free from the tight hairdo.

“No, no. Sven, you can’t get upset over this. Don’t report it, will you. Nobody saw me. Nobody knew I was there.”

Sven suppressed a groan.

That’s not good. I really should tell His Majesty.

“It’s time we head back inside, my Lady.”

“Already? Sven, it’s still hours till dawn. Do we really have to?”

“I think, I’ve been far too lenient with you over the last days. It won’t do you or me any good if we break the rules.”

Sven got up and picked up the storm lamp from the table as well as the basked with embroidery yarn. The cone of light moved. For a second, the girl’s eyes shone like rubies. For a moment her hair shone like silver. For the tiniest fraction there was a dark mist visible around her shape. Lifting the lamp higher it vanished.

Don’t think about it. She’s a lovely girl. It’s nothing but stories.

There was a sudden gust of wind. It wasn’t a gentle breeze. It carried a scent which Sven knew all too well. Iron and smoke. By reflex, he lifted the lamp even higher, staring into the darkness which couldn’t be broken by the small light.

“What is it? Did you hear something?”

“No, it’s nothing, my Lady. But there might be a storm coming. It’s better if we head back inside.”

“A storm?”

Jumping up, she threw her embroidery work into the basket. The sullen expression was gone. Sven felt her tiny hand on his arm. He wanted to offer his hand, but had the basket taken away instead. She looked up, her eyes moving even faster in the flickering light.

“You don’t have to worry. We’ll be safe in the tower.”

Her hand now had found his. Soft young fingers clasped around hard callouses.

“Then let’s head back. Let’s be safe.”

“My Lady, it’s almost dusk. It’s time for you to wake up.”

Knocking carefully at the door, Sven waited for the usual sounds of clothes rustling and shoes shuffling. There was no answer. No movement. No noise at all.

It’s not unusual. Maybe she’s still sleeping. It was a difficult day.

But the knight’s heart started to pound harder. He remembered the king’s words. He remembered his promise to Princess Madeline. He remembered his oath to the knighthood. Two more knocks. All unanswered.

“Damnation!”

The thought escaped as a whisper.

“Forgive me, my Lady! I’m coming in.”

Hesitating for just another heartbeat he finally pushed the door open.

He stopped. He couldn’t move. He could only stare.

The smell hit him. It was the smell of smoke. It was the smell of iron.

The setting sun cast shadows over the floor. Grotesque shapes dancing in the wind. Accompanied by the whistling of the wind coming in through the open window.

Slowly, Sven managed to get back his wits. With careful steps, hand on the hilt of his sword he made his way into the room. His steps crunched over broken glass. Burnt books crumbled under the sole of his feet.

“My Lady?”

It was another whisper. But the room met him with eerie silence and his stomach twisted. The palms of his hands were sweaty despite the cold autumn air cooling the room. The curtains to the bed were still closed.

Sven’s eyes took in the chaos. The chair toppled over. The table burst into splinters. He was looking for a trace. A trace of his charge. A trace of life.

“Caw!”

Sword drawn, Sven snapped around. Eyes moved frantically. Trying to focus. Looking for the source of the sound.

“Caw! Caw!”

There it sat. On the window frame. Between shards of broken glass. Its white plumage caught the setting sun, shimmering red. Like the red roses in the king’s palace. The sword found its way back into the scabbard. Red eyes following his every move.

“Caw! Caw! Caw!”

With squinted eyes he fixated the bird. It felt so familiar.

No, impossible. She must still be asleep.

Turning away from the strange bird, Sven approached the bed. With every step the smell grew stronger. He forced down the urge to gag.

“My Lady? Are you there?”

The hand left the pommel. Strong scarred fingers touched the soft fabric. Trembling fingers pulled the curtain.

A small white figure was sitting on the bed. Legs folded. Head lowered. White hair like a second curtain. Body slowly swaying as if moved by the breeze. White hands sitting on thighs. Thin fingers drumming a silent rhythm.

A sigh escaped. A hand fell and rested on the pommel. A frown appeared.

“My lady! What happened? I called for you so many times.”

The fingers stalled. Slowly the head lifted and hair parted. A wide smile stretched pale lips. The frail body tensed. Ruby eyes connected with grey ones. One last time.

“Caw! Caw! Caw!”

Red smeared over white plumage. The sun was about to rise. Two pairs of red eyes scanned the horizon. Flew over dark-green leafy crowns. Set their hopes on the grey mountains in the distance.

Grey eyes stared lifeless up at the ceiling. A dark-red carpet bedding the honorable knight for his last rest. The girl’s red lips blew a kiss to her resting guardian.

A sigh escaped her. A glance back at the knight, her focus shifted to the red morning sky. Scanning. Hoping.

“Do you know you can wish for anything? I mean … If there is a red sky with three clouds in the morning. Then your wish will come true.”