Natalie Yacobson
Translator Natalia Lilienthal
© Natalie Yacobson, 2023
© Natalia Lilienthal, translation, 2023
ISBN 978-5-0060-2461-8
Created with Ridero smart publishing system
Pearls and peacock
“Don’t trust the waterman, princess!
He’ll drag you to the bottom of the sea.
And no one can escape from there.”
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