Lilophea, the Bride of the Sea King

Natalia Lilienthal Translator

© Natalie Yacobson, 2023

© Natalia Lilienthal, translation, 2023

ISBN 978-5-0060-2461-8

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Pearls and peacock

A blue peacock flew over the rose bushes. Lilothea could see it among the white peacocks that filled the palace grounds. It seemed to have come from some distant overseas kingdom whose ruler had recently wooed her. Many thought his proposal tempting because of the generous gifts brought by the ambassadors and the prospect of an alliance with the strongest power, but the king was in no hurry to agree. The obstacle lay in the customs of a distant country. Instead of one wife the ruler had a harem.

The council of ministers over the plans for her marriage had been going on for quite some time, and Lilothea herself was walking in the garden trying to determine who was singing? No one normally walked in this part of the garden except her. Here was her secret corner with a fountain and a marvelous rose garden. And she didn’t want to leave here to join a harem or even become the only wife of a foreign king, either.

Her stubborn father was going to arrange her marriage exclusively to a king, or at least a crown prince: no more, no less. And someone’s sweet voice in the garden hummed about the dangers of a relationship with a waterman. To think! Where did anyone ever see watermen? It was all fairy tales!

Lilothea took a closer look at the peacock soaring above the bushes. Was there really a tiny jewel attached to the bird’s crest, or was it just the play of sunlight?

“Don’t trust the waterman!” Again the wonderful voice sang. “You don’t know yet how treacherous the Water Lords are.”

Lilophea defiantly straightened the hem of her turquoise dress. She loved all shades of water. Her blue brocade costume with flounces of white lace evoked the waves of the sea.

“I’m not afraid of water!” She muttered aloud, tired of looking for the singer who was hiding in such a secluded corner of the garden that he could not be found. “And I also like the element of water. The water surface is beautiful and so are the waves on it. And if in the abyss of water live some spirits as beautiful as water, then I willingly invite them into the palace.”

“You are a silly girl!” A sweet voice sang, and a blue peacock sank gently to the edge of the tiered fountain in the rose garden.

Could it be that he was singing? It couldn’t be! Lilophea exhaled noisily. Peacocks have ugly voices. And certainly they have not human voices. But this peacock was special in every way.

“Were you singing?” It still sounded fantastic to her, though the peacock tilted its head in agreement.

“I thought there was a troubadour hiding here.”

“I can be one for you,” the peacock was polite, but he’d just called her a fool.

“Did you say I was silly?”

“You wouldn’t call an executioner to behead me for that.”

“More like a cook with a knife.”

“Don’t joke like that, Your Highness.”

“So you really think I’m naive?”

“You are more like inexperienced,” he corrected her gently. “You don’t know that watermen are not to be trifled with.”

“I don’t know any watermen at all.”

“Would you like to meet any?”

“I do.”

“It is dangerous.”

Lilothea noticed that the water in the fountain was vibrating strangely. It reeked of cold. The jets seemed about to freeze into ice.

“This is all nonsense,” she yanked back the train that caught on the fountain’s edge stucco. “The watermen are fictitious.”

“And what is about talking peacocks?”

“Well, I can see you, but I can’t see a waterman.”

“Don’t make any promises! And never invite them to the palace.”

“But I already have!”

The peacock opened its beak and never closed it. There was something in the fountain, as if a big fish had got in. Someone’s wet footprints were left on the grass, as if someone had stepped out of the fountain. Droplets of water on the curb dripped together and began to take the shape of letters.

“I’m coming,” Lilophea read. “Is this all your tricks, you talking peacock? You know what they do to those who know magic tricks.”

“They put them in a cage and require them to tell fortunes,” the peacock finished grimly.

“It is true, but I won’t tell anyone you’re a talker. The main thing is not to give your away. I do not want you to be put in a cage. I like you very much!”

She gently touched the stone in his forehead with her fingers. It was growing right into the plumage. Wonderful! Is it an opal? Is it a carbuncle? Is it a third eye?

The peacock twitched with pleasure at her touch, like a dove in love.

“In no country in the world have I seen princesses as beautiful as you?”

“And you have been in many countries?”

“I can’t count. There are daughters or wives of rulers everywhere, but not like you. You’re not a fairy by any chance, are you?”

No one’s ever asked her anything like that before. But she’d never seen a talking bird before, either.

“Have you seen how they live in countries where the rulers have harems?”

“Oh, it’s not very comfortable for women.”

Lilothea was upset, but didn’t want to show it to him.

“And have you seen how the water women live on the seabed?” She joked.

“Don’t even ask, princess,” the peacock turned gloomy. Even the glittering stone in his forehead faded to black. It turned out that the stone could change color. More miracles! Today is the day of miracles! And it’s not even her birthday.

“But there’s still a present for you!” A harsh, husky voice said behind her. Someone had touched her waist with a cold, wet hand. Could it be that the Sultan from a distant country himself had come to ask for marriage? The ambassadors were not enough?

Lilothea turned around. It was no one. And on the edge of the fountain stood a chest filled with sparkling jewels, glistening with rainbow colors. There are pearl necklaces, earrings, rings, tiaras, even a crown of gold and large pearls. A delighted Lilothea stretched out her hand to him.

“Stop it! Don’t touch!” The peacock wailed.

“Why is that?” She was furious and suddenly noticed that her corset was soaked with moisture. Whoever had touched her, as if he were made of water? The dress was getting very wet. The smell of lilies hung in her secret garden, so persistent that it overpowered even the fragrance of roses.

Spit on the bird’s opinion. Lilothea took the crown from the chest and tried it on. How nice to feel it on her forehead. Only the narrow corolla pressed a little. Immediately visions hit her head: the waters of the sea, lilies and water lilies swaying on the waves, ships entangled in their stems and going to the bottom. Beautiful women with fish tails are dragged from the shore by guys who have come to the coast for fortune telling. Large pearls roll along the bottom of the sea depths, piling up into whole pyramids. And on the coral throne sits someone. She couldn’t see his face, but a voice above her ear whispered:

“I can show you so much more. There are so many wonders under the water! You have no idea!”

Lilophea unconsciously stretched out her hand to touch the speaker, but felt nothing but water. Meanwhile, the peacock suddenly flew up and snatched the crown from her head with its claws. The visions were immediately interrupted. The crown of pearls fell on the grass, and the peacock could not catch its breath. The burden was obviously too heavy for him.

“That’s it! Don’t put them on again!” He said in an admonishing tone. Or rather, commanded. That’s what you call it! Lilophea was furious.

“You’re like a duenna.”

“I am a bird,” he corrected her. Apparently he didn’t know what a duenna was. “I’m a magic bird!” He pointed out proudly. “So says everyone I meet intimately.”

“And no one’s ever called you a talking parrot?”

The peacock cawed unkindly, realizing the catch. Well, sometimes he doesn’t sound so sweet.

“You know pearls are dead stone,” he explained.

“How is it?”

“A pearl is a hard growth inside a soft, living oyster. Sometimes it is plucked out by force, and it dies. Do you want to die like that?”

“I do not have pearls growing inside me,” she reasonably objected. “There is nothing to be taken from me.”

“It is except your living heart.”

“I have heard it can be torn only in a figurative sense.”

“It is not always. Sometimes the water is hotter than the blood.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t wear pearls. The souls of dead oysters live in them. They are even worse than the souls of dead drowned women. They will give you no rest.”

“I don’t believe it!” The visions that flashed before her were beautiful, not horrible. But suddenly it was only so at first. She tried to imagine the drowned women and the pearls in their place of hearts, eyes, and tongues. What kind of fantasy is that?

A peacock circled above her head, feathering its tail, which suddenly had green and purple feathers. Could the bird be bewitched? Lilothea immediately dismissed the thought. She had already seen talking parrots in the king’s birdhouse. Of course, a peacock is not a parrot and should not talk, according to the common opinion. But what if it is some special rare species, which was brought from overseas countries? Parrots are not all talking either, probably among peacocks there is a particularly rare species. Probably, in the state where the sultan who wooed her ruled, such birds were considered the most common. Lilothea even suspected that he deliberately sent a talking peacock to her as a gift, so that the bird would sing his best qualities to the future bride. But the peacock coped with the task in a very unusual way. He only sang about some water spirits that could not be trusted and could not be seen nearby.

“Don’t trust the water spirits!” He sang again like a maniac. Was that the only song he had learned while he was being whipped across the sea? Then no wonder he sings only about watermen, for they are the only legends one hears on the sea voyage. Watermen, mermaids, newts, chamois, krakens – she could no longer remember all the names named by the famous sailors and privateers who had sworn allegiance to her father in the great throne room of the palace. But even they, as impertinent as they were, did not intimidate anyone with a dangerous acquaintance with a waterman.

Lilophea was suddenly reminded of a young privateer who had presented her with a large pearl. That had been a year ago. He assured her that he could speak to the spirits of the sea. Once these same spirits called him from the coast late at night, he left to talk to them, and never came back. Lilophea wanted to believe that he had sailed off with smugglers or pirates in search of adventure, rather than drowned in the abyss. She kept his pearl as a memento, having stolen it from her father’s treasury, where it was customary to keep all the gifts sent to the king and his family by the petitioners. And that young man was a petitioner. He had asked for his own ship and crew, but he was gone. All that was left was his gift.

Only the pearls in the chest were better. Lilothea suddenly felt a cold, wet hand wrapped around her waist again. A new wet trail stretched across the grass.

“All the wonders of the depths are a gift for the most beautiful,” someone whispered in her ear.

The peacock, meanwhile, was floating above the fountain’s jets, unaware of anything. When he looked down, he groaned, and someone in the meantime slipped into the fountain. Lilothea didn’t even know if someone was really there, or if it was all imagination. She was dreaming. The midday sun was burning very brightly, and the tracks on the grass did not dry.

The princess took the casket in her hands. It was very heavy and cold. It wasn’t warm at all in the sun.

“Pearls are the symbol of death,” the peacock repeated. “I would be wary of lugging them up to my chambers. You might bring a ghost with them.”

“Are they the ghosts of drowned women or oysters?” The princess jokingly asked.

“It is both,” the scholarly peacock answered in all seriousness.

“Do not caw!” She shushed him, and the luxurious bird closed its beak angrily. The peacock clearly did not like that he was compared to the usual crows.

“I never cawed in my life,” he sobbed.

“Pity, if you’ve learned to speak human, you’d do well to learn the languages of all the birds and beasts. You could be my court interpreter.”

“That’s not a bad idea!” He scratched his forehead with the tip of his wing. “It’s worth a try.”

Lilophea didn’t laugh at him right away. Who knew what his abilities were. She only wished the peacock was a porter. How convenient it would be now to have at least a pony to carry the chest to the royal chambers. Leaving it on the fountain and calling the servants was not at all desirable. Firstly, it would have to explain to them where it came from and who brought it, and she did not know it herself. And secondly, it might disappear as suddenly as it appeared while she was walking back and forth. Lilothea could hardly drag the heavy gift from who knows who, and the pearls in the chest exuded a watery coolness and brought to mind thoughts of mermaids and sea ghosts.

Blue Seneschal

The gift pearl, given to her by a vanished privateer, shone in the dried shell that replaced the casket. It was very beautiful, but there were no visions when she touched it. Lilothea stroked it with her fingers for a long time, but nothing happened.

The peacock, meanwhile, circled around the princess’s apartments and busily looked around every room. He evidently liked the canopy of the tent-like canopy over the bed, for he could make his nest there. The wide bed itself, with its satin cushions, did not impress him, nor did the exquisite furniture. Even his own reflection in the oval mirror on the dressing table didn’t impress him much. He grunted contemptuously at the wash basin, made in the shape of a basin supported by mermaids.

“It’s not very luxurious,” he finally said.

Well, that’s a blatant lie! Her chambers were the most beautiful in the palace. She nearly opened her mouth to say so, but the peacock went on:

“Even concubines have better rooms in a harem.”

So that’s it! He must have been sent by the sultan to convince her that everything in his country was more beautiful and richer than in her father’s humble island kingdom.

That’s what she’d suspected from the start. It was very timely that the peacock appeared in the palace garden. As if the eastern ambassadors had brought it with them and released it on purpose, so that it would find the princess, meet her, and begin to persuade her. Everything is subtly calculated. You can’t believe a man, no matter how convincingly he speaks, but a talking peacock is such a miracle that you start to get a little confused in his presence, you become amazed and trusting. After all, if the bird speaks human language, then there are miracles in the world after all. And this bird also has a voice so well put, as if he was trained to sing and babble on purpose. What a pity the sultan did not think to send this bird to Lilophea’s father. He, as the ruler of a country where no one listens to the opinion of girls, should have understood that nothing depends on the princess’ decision. Even if the peacock will talk to her so that she will dream of going to the harem and even beg her father to let her go there, still the king and his advisers have the final word. It is for them alone to decide whom the princess will marry.

“Did you sing as sweetly for the Sultan as you did for me?” Lilophea inquired as if incidentally. “Did you also advise him not to invite mermaids into his harem, because it is dangerous to communicate with them?”

“What do you mean?” The peacock didn’t give himself away. What an actor! “Would they teach me anything? They wouldn’t even give me any fruit when I sang under the window. Amazingly insensitive people! They have splendid palaces, but they won’t let a talking bird into any of them.”

“Why? Don’t they value rare species?”

“That’s not the point,” the peacock deftly picked a grape from the fruit bowl with its beak, and only continued when it ate it greedily. He appeared to be hungry.

“There is great fear in eastern countries of spies sent from the sea. And I am blue, the color of the sea. And the stone in my forehead shimmers with all the shades of water.”

“Are there spies from the sea?! What does that mean?”

“Well,” said the peacock, uncertain how to avoid the embarrassing subject. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Well, now go on. Why be embarrassed?”

He ate a few more berries, grunted softly, and then shifted his gaze to the pearl in the dried out shell flaps.

“You don’t have to look out of the window at the sea. There’s so much going on in the sea. I saw all sorts of terrible things while I was hiding in the masts of the ship on which I sailed as a stowaway.”

Lilothea laughed involuntarily. What a pun it turns out!

“By the way, I thought the ship sailed to another kingdom, and ended up here. Bad luck!”

“You will know how not to pay the fare!” She joked. I should have added that he deserved it, and that he who wants to deceive others in the end remains deceived himself, but she was not cruel. It’s the maidens at court who like to let the stilettos go. The peacock will never get enough of them, and will probably pretend to be dumb so as not to have to answer their taunts.

“Do you think that if I brought a coin to the sailors they’d tell me exactly where the ship was going?” The peacock showed unexpected seriousness.

What could you say to that?

“I don’t think so,” Lilophea answered honestly. “They would have taken the coin, and you would probably have been caged and sold at the first port.”

“You see, I might not have been honest.” He spread his wings in triumph and ate almost all the grapes from the vase. What a glutton!

“Travelling alone is dangerous in any case,” Lilophea consoled him. “It is better to sail the ship only with the mistress.”

“Well, I’ve managed to get out of it, now you can always be my mistress.”

What does that mean? He thought of himself as master here and her as servant? Or is he her best friend now? You can’t be mistress to a friend. It’s not like he’s a pet. The peacock had indeed chosen her for himself. He wasn’t bought. He wasn’t brought as a gift. He flew up to her in the garden and made conversation. That’s what everyone who wants to make friends does.

“I’ll consider you my faithful cavalier,” Lilofephea suggested aloud. “By the way, do you have a name? Or should I call you something.”

It’s not nice to call him just a peacock, like all the other birds in the garden that don’t know human speech. A talking creature, however feathered, deserves to be addressed by all the rules.

“I am Seneschal,” he bowed respectfully. Lilophea had no idea that a peacock could bend its neck so low. He could at least be applauded. Had he escaped from the circus? The princess sometimes heard rumors of cruel trainers, from whom it was not easy to buy back rare but offended animals. A peacock with his talents could bend the bars of a cage and escape on his own.

“There is already one seneschal in the palace. That’s what they call the chief of staff,” Lilophea hesitated.

“For him it is a title, but for me it is a name. Though, to tell the truth,” the peacock looked conspiratorial. “I was in charge of the servants in the house of a great sorceress for some time.”

Lilophea grinned incredulously.

“Enchantresses and rogues are practically the same thing.”

“What do you know, girl?”

“I am guided by my experience at court.”

“This isn’t the court to learn anything.”

“But you got here somehow. Which means there’s already something unique here – a chatty peacock!”

“I’m the most worthy creature here,” he arrogantly cocked his beak. Lilophea gazed for a moment at the stone glinting in his forehead. She wondered if it hurt him, made him feel uncomfortable with the hard jewelry growing in his forehead. Even her own tiara was starting to press on her head if she wore it too long. All jewelry should be removed before going to bed so it wouldn’t leave a mark on the delicate skin. That’s what the ladies-in-waiting used to say.

Lilophea remembered the crown. She longed unbearably to try it on again, but the blue peacock looked behind the chest like a spy. It seemed that if she took anything from there, and he pecked her in the finger. Of the chest there was a wet puddle on the malachite table. There was no place for it to come from, for the jug and the basin for her morning bath were in another room. There was water inside the jewels themselves. But how could it have flowed through the hard casket. There was an icy chill coming from the water. It felt like a draught in her chambers, though the day was very hot. All the ladies at court were waving their fans vigorously. Suddenly there was an underwater chill in the princess’ apartments. Lilophea noticed that in a puddle on the table bloomed most real water lily. What a miracle!

She must send the peacock away on some errand while she looks around and tries on all the pearl adornments.

“So you are Seneschal,” she smiled at him. “I’ll call you that if you like. Do not present yourself as so to the other courtiers, or you will be confused with the head of the household. He might think you are making fun of him and tease you.”

“Let him try it,” the peacock hummed haughtily. Apparently, he’d never been chased by a cook’s knife before. But Lilophea had once seen a swan roasted for a feast, and the sight made her sick. How can you make a feast of a beautiful bird? People can be so cruel sometimes.

“You love waterfowl! You have a good heart! You have a water heart! Come to me! Come into the sea!”

Who said that? It was certainly not the peacock. His insolent bird voice is not capable of whispering with such inspiration.

“I’ll tell you what,” Lilophea opened her writing bag. “Take a couple of letters for me.”

“I’m not a messenger,” the peacock grunted.

She scribbled a few lines on two sheets of paper, sealed them with the Royal Seal, and handed them to Seneschal. “Here, one is for the cook, let him not cook birds yet, better let him treat the ambassadors with fish and crabs from the local coast.”

Here the peacock understood her and nodded sternly.

“It is no birds to eat,” he agreed and clutched the envelope in his beak.

“Can you find your own way?”

He nodded again.

“And the second letter is for my father’s honored guest. He is coming today. He is the famous navigator and privateer. You know what that is.”

Peacock dropped the envelope on the table for a moment.

“Capering is legalized piracy, with the profits from the plunder paid to the crown,” he resented. “Capers are sneaky, sneaky fellows, to think of such a thing. Stay away from them.”

“This fellow’s not bad. He is quite a charming little rascal. His name is Morrin.

He’s quite handsome. He has brown hair and brown eyes. He’s tall. He prefers to wear green caftans. In his left ear is an earring with an emerald in the shape of a drop.”

“And you want me to give him a love letter.”

“It is not a love letter. I want him to do me a favor and find out something for me.”

“Well, all right,” the peacock took both envelopes in its beak and finally flew away.

Lilophea waited until his trail had gone cold outside the window, and then she rushed to measure the jewelry. Bracelets, necklaces, rings, beads – she strung a whole row of them on herself. How beautifully the pearls had transformed her outfit. She became like a sea queen. The twisted-frame mirror on the wall even flattered her. It showed not an ordinary princess, but as if a goddess from the depths of the ocean.

In five minutes Lilophea managed to try on everything but the intricate pearl pendants, with their many pendants and drops that must fall on her forehead. There was only room on her head for one piece of jewelry – a crown. For some reason she liked it best. As soon as the crown of the sea pressed on her forehead again, a succession of visions akin to daydreams came back into her mind. All these dreams were of an underwater kingdom, of water flowing between lilies and of incredible underwater creatures.