Archives for July 2025

    The next morning, she chose her plainest dress.  No perfume.  She considered leaving her hair wild—like Miss Cheerful.  But Seeker loved her curls.  Let him look at them one last time.  When this was over, she’d talk to Kind.  More selfishness.

    She spent all morning thinking where to tell him.  Someplace that meant nothing to him.  Nothing to her either.  She couldn’t bear that.

    She set out a plate, then another beside it.  One last breakfast before he was gone—her final act of selfishness.  He stood in the doorway.  Tall.  Strong.  Defiant.  Not the sad boy from her dream.   Good.  That would make this easier.  Her heart ached with love for him.  At least she’d have this image—to hold on to when everything else was gone.

    He didn’t touch the plate.  Just beckoned.  Headed for the door—toward the Tower.  No.  Not there.  She caught his hand, tugged him off course—away from the Tower.  Away from the stairs.  And definitely not the stream.

    His hand resisted—just for a second.  But he followed.  Through the wheat fields.  Where they first smiled.  No.  Not here.  Across the Narrow Way stood an abandoned farm.  Here.  Broken fences.  Weeds choking the ground—like the words caught in her throat.

    “Seeker, this isn’t working.  Leave.  Forget about me.  Be happy.”  It was done.  Not beautiful.  But it served.

    He stood there, his eyes as cold as ice, as hard as steel.  “Good.  I don’t need you.  I don’t love—”

    She gasped cutting him off mid-sentence.  Then the tears came—loud, broken, unstoppable.  How could he?  Her last ray of hope—gone.  She crumpled, shuddering.

    His arms wrapped around her—strong, unmoved.  “Don’t cry, Beautiful.  You’ll be fine.  There are a million men who’ll love you.”  No sympathy in his voice.  Just arrogance.  She stayed in his arms.  Just for a breath.  Even this pain—she’d hold on to it.  Then he pushed her away.

    “Goodbye,” he said, with finality as he turned away.

    She collapsed.  Briars bit into her palms.  Only then did she feel it—the bitter January cold.  A thorn caught on his ragged jacket and tore it with a harsh sound.  She saw him shiver.

    She’d done this to him.  Made him a man.  But she’d shattered the heart of the poor boy she loved.  There was nothing to cherish in this.  Nothing she could live with.  She had to make it right.  Then she remembered.  The jacket she’d sewn for him.  In secret.

   “Seeker—Seeker, wait…” she called after him, pleading.  “I can’t stand to see you cold like this.”

   “Please Seeker,” she whispered, voice trembling.  “Before you leave me… I have something I want you to have.”

***

    Seeker sat next to the hearth, wooden cup trembling in his hands.  He took a sip of the spiced wine—still warm.  She’d poured it before slipping away upstairs.

    He’d had hours to prepare.  To harden his heart—be the man she wanted him to be.  Had he convinced her?  Maybe she would stay.  But now he wanted to cut out his own tongue for those cruel words.  He wasn’t prepared for her response.  It had taken everything—everything—not to fall apart with her.

    She appeared with a coat in her hands.  “I made this for you.”

   It was soft and warm, the seams stitched with small, careful precision.  It fit him perfectly.  She beamed.

    “Can we try it out?” she asked sweetly.  “Take me to see the cascades—I hear they are frozen.  And beautiful.”  A mischievous grin lit across her face as she dashed for the door.  “Try to keep up!” she called over her shoulder.

    It was as if nothing—absolutely nothing—had happened that morning.  He would never understand her.  Not in a million years, but he loved her. 

    And in that moment, he made up his mind.  He would never let her go again.  Ever.

***

    The days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, until spring returned to the Realm of the Interpreter.  Seeker and Beautiful were always together—and never once tried to leave each other.

    Now and then, Seeker would ask Beautiful to be his wife.  Sometimes she said yes.  But by day’s end, it always turned to no, and a quiet sadness would return to her eyes.  Yet no harsh words ever passed between them.

    And so, the days passed, and their love and devotion only deepened.  She never once removed the ring with its seven radiant diamonds.  To Seeker, she remained as much a mystery as ever.

    Seeker waited for Beautiful to come down from her room.  She never did.  Will she meet me in the dream?  She did, but something was off.  Outside, winter had arrived—but in the dream, autumn clung to the trees.  Reds, golds, and oranges still flamed on every branch.  And yet, the colors looked faded.  Dimmed.  No birds sang.  Not one.

    They visited all their places—the stream, the waterfalls, the orchard…  but something was missing.  Every step felt… hollow.  No spark.  No fire.  Only the ache in his chest, sharp and hot.  

    There’s got to be something I can say.  He racked his brain.  I got nothing.

    They sat in silence for a long time.  Then Beautiful turned to him.  “Seeker, I have something to tell you.”

    Finally.  She loved him.  He knew that.  But something was wrong.  Maybe now she’d say what it was.  He ran through everything again.  Nothing came to mind.  What did I miss?

    “But not here,” she said softly.  “I can’t do this to you here.”

    The blood drained from Seeker’s face.  She’s going to leave me.  He opened his mouth to speak—to plead.  He reached for her hand—but she was gone.  Just like that.  

    Alone.

***

    Beautiful had made up her mind.  Kind’s words still echoed in her heart.  She was selfish—wanting Seeker’s love so desperately.  Greedily.  But she couldn’t give all of herself.  Not yet.  Maybe not ever.  He deserved more.  There were so many beautiful Pilgrims—girls who would love him better than she ever could.

   She went to him that night.  She wanted to savor every moment.  Stretch the time.  Burn it into her memory, every glance, every laugh.  But her guilt ruined it all.

    She’d be cruel.  Make him hate her—so he could forget.  He’d move on.  And she would carry her love in silence.  Alone.  What would it be like… seeing him with someone else.  Another girl… hand in hand.  No.  She couldn’t even picture it.  It was too much.

    As they sat in silence, she turned the words over in her mind.  Not here.  Not this place.  Not our dream.   It had to stay untouched—sacred.  A place to return to.  To cry.  Guilt surged again.  Still thinking about herself.  Still not about him.  But she needed this much.  Tomorrow, she promised herself.  I’ll tell him tomorrow.

    Seeker lay still, the sun warming his skin through the diamond-paned windows.  For a moment, everything felt perfect.  Then he sat up, heart racing.  He hadn’t met Beautiful in their dreams last night.  It was the first night they hadn’t shared a dream since he saw her in the wheat field.  Had she waited for him by the stream?  What would she think?  She’ll understand.  She always does.

    He hurried down to the common room.  She wasn’t there yet.  He set out a plate for himself and placed another beside it.  When he looked up again, she stood in the doorway, her posture graceful, shoulders back, yet her eyes were swollen.  She’d been crying.

     She moved gracefully across the floor and settled beside him.  Her hand found his, soft and gentle.  But sadness flowed from her touch.   He had sensed her sadness that first day.  But nothing like this.

    “Beautiful, I’m sorry,” he said quickly.  “I don’t know what happened.  How long did you—”

    She lifted a finger, silencing him.  “Seeker, I couldn’t… I can’t—”  Her voice cracked, dissolving into a sob.   She tried again, softer, heartbroken.  “Seeker, I can’t marry you.”

    Her words hit like a slap.  “What?  Why?”  His voice rose edging out the hurt.  “You were happy—we were happy!  What happened?  What did I do wrong?”  He stared at her, bewildered.  “You didn’t even ask why I wasn’t there.  It’s not like I stayed away on purpose!”

    Lightning flashed in her eyes, fierce and beautiful.  “Listen, Seeker,” she demanded.  “Stop trying to put everything into words.  Feel my heart.  You have to learn how to feel my heart!”

    The fire in her eyes vanished as quickly as it came.  She leaned in, pressed a kiss to his forehead, then tugged gently on his hand.  “Come on,” she whispered.  “Let’s not be late to Kind’s teaching.”

    The diamonds on her finger caught the light—and his eye.  His chest tightened.  What kind of game was this?

***

    They walked the Narrow Way, hand in hand—but this wasn’t the Beautiful he knew.  She didn’t try to run ahead.  She felt distant, like she was somewhere else entirely.  Her steps had no life in them.

   “Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teased.  No response.  Not even that flash of lightning in her eyes.

    He was miserable.  He wanted to say something—hold her, comfort her.  But everything he did just seemed to make it worse.

    He was relieved when they reached the pasture.  Kind hadn’t started teaching yet.  Seeker chose a spot near the back.  She sat down beside him and nestled close with a soft sigh.  He’d learned the secrets of the ancients in the tower—but he’d never figure her out.  No, not in a thousand years.  Her hand gripped his arm so tightly it hurt.  He didn’t pull away.

    Kind read from his Book, “Do nothing through contention or vainglory, but in meekness of mind let every man esteem others better than himself.  A faint smile touched Beautiful’s lips.  Kind glanced her way, voice gentle.  “Or every woman than herself.”

    Seeker felt the flutter in her chest where she leaned against him.  Kind spoke of the Prince, and she hung on every word.  He ended with, “Meekness isn’t thinking less of yourself.  It’s thinking of yourself less.”

    When Kind’s teaching ended, the distance crept back in.  They ate lunch together in silence.

    “Seeker, I’m tired,” she said quietly.  “I’m going to rest in my room for a while.”

    They stood in the doorway.   He couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Beautiful, I love you.  With all my heart.”

    “Me too,” she whispered.

He leaned in to kiss her.

    She turned, offering her cheek instead.

    Beautiful sat sideways on her bed, legs tucked beneath her, counting the soft strokes of the brush through her curls.  She would be perfect for Seeker tonight.  A ridiculous thought.  The way she looked had nothing to do with the dream.  Or did it?  Was she more beautiful there if she felt more beautiful here?  Or did the dream reflect how Seeker saw her?  She would ask him tonight.

    She slid off the bed, bare feet peeking from beneath her cotton nightgown to touch the smooth wooden floor.  She tiptoed over and blew out the candle.  Moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow—almost as bright as day.  She closed her eyes and tried to will herself into Seeker’s dream.  But sleep wouldn’t come.

    She thought about her days with Seeker—the adventure he had led her into.  That would never end.  They would share bedchambers in Palace Beautiful.  He would be her Great-Heart, guiding her safely through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.  

    But they were empty words—she couldn’t see it.  She tried to picture her wedding day, but the image wouldn’t come.  She could see Kind with his Book and Seeker standing there.  But where was she?  It wasn’t what she saw that made her stomach twist.  It was what she didn’t see.  Her parents.

    She sat bolt upright.  In all her joy, she’d forgotten about her parents.  They would never let their baby girl marry a penniless Pilgrim.  It doesn’t matter, she pleaded in her mind, tears spilling down her cheeks.  I love him.  He loves me.  She would run away with him.  No.  She couldn’t.  That was impossible.

    Her ring caught the moonlight, gleaming brilliantly in the quiet glow.  Her ring.  It wasn’t just a promise to her—it had become a symbol of her vow.  She would never take it off.  She reached for the other ring at her neck.  A promise from the King.

    Still empty words.  She sobbed.   Sleep wouldn’t come.   She would go to him—he would understand her heart.  She froze.  He couldn’t see her like this.

    Wife.  The word echoed in her mind.  Husband.  Just words… right?  She would walk with him—every step.  Even if not as wife.  Would he understand?  I can’t marry you.  But I can be with you.

    She continued to cry, but not to sleep.

    Beautiful walked beside Seeker, hand in hand, resisting the familiar urge to dash ahead and make him chase her.  Not today.

  Together they walked down the stairs, her hand still in his.  She never got tired of the view—waterfalls spilling from the distant mountains into the stream below, carving its way through the ravine.

    She knew exactly what was coming—he thought she hadn’t noticed the small velvet box hidden in his other hand.  And yet, her curiosity buzzed inside her, impossible to quiet.  She glanced at him, amused—he was trembling.  Poor boy.  This was the same man whose fists had sent brutes running just hours ago.  And now he trembled at her.  A girl who barely reached his shoulders.

    Relax.  You’re doing fine.   He stopped at the stone where they’d sat the very first day.  This is where their adventure had begun.  Where she’d accidentally blurted out husband.  Somehow, even then, she’d known.  No.  She’d known the moment he smiled at her in the wheat fields.  He had seen her.

    He dropped to one knee.  He could really, really be ridiculous sometimes.  This was so cliché.

   “Beautiful,” he said, “will you…”

    She leaned in.  Yes?  She waited.  And then waited some more.  Her heart pounded.  She couldn’t take it.  She sat down on the stone—the very one where she’d given him her extra sandwich.  Funny, he never seemed to think that was odd.  She pulled him down beside her.

    She slowly, deliberately took off her shoes and dangled her toes in the water, letting the coolness wash over her.  Then she pulled off his boots and dropped his feet into the stream beside hers.  Water splashed all over her.  She didn’t care.

    He still didn’t say anything.  How long was he planning to keep her in suspense?   Unable to take it anymore, she snatched the ring case from his hand.

    “You wanted to give me this?” she said, flipping the lid open.

    She gasped.  It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—a delicate band of the purest gold, set with diamonds that gleamed with an otherworldly light, dancing like the water her toes dangled in.  She counted them.  One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.  Six.  Seven.  Seven lustrous diamonds.  Where had he gotten this?

    No.  She didn’t care where it came from.  It was hers now.  She leaned in and kissed him.

    “Yes, Seeker—I will be your wife!”

    He just sat there smiling, not saying a word.  It was starting to test her patience.

    “Well, don’t sit there like a dumb boy.  Put the ring on my finger!” she snapped, her tone warm.  Tender.

    Beautiful poured water from the pitcher into a basin, then dipped a wash towel and gently wiped the smudges from her face.  She brushed her hair with care, then paused to twirl one of her curls around her little finger—Seeker adored her curls.

    Her favorite dress was laid out on the bed.  It wasn’t fancy, but it was still beautiful.  As her fingers brushed a ring on a silver chain—the one Secret had given her with the King’s invitation—her memory stirred.

---

   Beautiful busied herself sweeping the floor of the little house in Dark Land.  Her mom would be home from the fields soon, and together they’d prepare dinner before her dad returned from the ocean.

    She had barely set aside the broom when a knock echoed at the front door.  The man who stood there wore a simple, finely made cloak of deep royal blue, and around his neck hung a slender chain bearing the seal of the King.

   “I am Secret, and I dwell with those who are on high,” he said, his voice quiet but compelling.  “The King invites you to journey to Beulah as a Pilgrim.”

   “How can I journey to Beulah, seeing as I am just a girl, and I have no one to walk with me?”

    “Have you no friends or family?” Secret asked.

    “I am only the baby,” she said.  “My brothers and sisters left years ago, and my parents refused to go with them.”  Her fingers curled around the edge of her skirt.  “What chance do I have?”  She glanced toward the window, as if there was nothing to see.  “And my friends—none would leave this place.”

    Secret handed her the King’s invitation.  On it was written “Beautiful,” sealed with the signet of the King.  Then he took her hand and placed a small velvet pouch in it.  Inside was a golden ring, set with a deep black onyx.  It was clearly not meant for her—much too large for her small fingers.

    Secret smiled.  “The King will send one to walk with you.  That ring belongs to him.”  

   Beautiful bowed low. “Please tell the King—I accept his invitation.”  She turned the ring over in her hand, studying it.  “When I find him, I will give it to him.  And I will love him.”  Her eyes blazed.  “And only him.”

    He nodded—not in simple agreement, but as witness to her vow.  He handed her a small ornate wooden box.  “Godspeed, Beautiful, daughter of the King.”  And with that, he was gone.

---

    Beautiful changed into the dress she’d laid out—the red and black one she’d been wearing when she met Seeker.  She slipped the necklace over her head, and tucked the ring into her dress, close to her heart.  It belonged to Seeker now.  He just didn’t know it yet.

   She dabbed on a touch of perfume from the carved, ornate box the King had given her.   The sweet fragrance of lilies filled the room.  She ran the brush through her hair one last time, making sure every strand was in place.

    Yes, she was aware of the time.  How long had she kept him waiting?  It didn’t matter.  She had to be perfect for him.  

    When at last she stepped into the common room, Seeker greeted her with a smile—the same smile that had captured her heart in the wheat fields.

    Beautiful leaned into her Deliverer as they walked.  She didn’t need a mirror to know—her face was smudged with dirt, her eyes swollen from a week’s worth of tears.  Not because of the brutes.  She hadn’t stopped crying since she walked away from Seeker.   Her hair was wild—she hadn’t even brushed it before slipping out to hear Kind speak.  No one was supposed to see her.  That was what the veil was for—to hide the tears.

    Seeker didn’t even notice—he just looked at her with love in his eyes.  Her Deliverer.  She had cried out to the King, just as Christiana had long ago—and He had heard her.  She never doubted He would.

    The King had sent him.  The thought sent a shiver through her.  To walk with her.  Her heart ached for Christiana—she never knew what it was to walk beside Christian.  Beautiful clutched Seeker’s hand.  She would never let go.  Never. 

    Fair-Glance and Cheerful stood talking in front of the cottage.  Fair-Glance looked at their intertwined fingers—disapproving.  Beautiful didn’t care.  Cheerful beamed at her.

    “You’re a mess, Beautiful,” he said.  “But you’re still Beautiful.”  A mischievous glint lit his eyes.  “To me.”  Then with a teasing shrug he added, “I’ll wait.  While you… freshen up.”

   Her temper sparked—just for a second.  But his eyes danced, full of mischief and tenderness.  She loved him.  No doubt at all.

    Beautiful lifted her chin and closed her eyes, waiting.  She opened them again.  What was he looking at?  Pay attention!  Without another thought, she grabbed his head and pulled his lips to hers—right there in front of the cottage.

    “Go,” he urged, voice quiet but sure.  “I’ll be right here waiting, Baby.”

   She didn’t protest.  Baby.  She liked the sound of it—more than she wanted to admit.  That word belonged to him now.

    Seeker couldn’t stand it anymore.  He grabbed his staff and headed out—Kind always knew the right thing to say.  It’d been a whole week since they’d spoken.  It’s not like he had a reason for not going sooner.  Kind was sure to give him an earful for that.

    The air was chill, the sky heavy with clouds, as Seeker trudged the Narrow Way.  In the distance, a woman in a slate-colored dress and veil walked alone.  Three brutes emerged, blocking her path.  Seeker stiffened, heart lurching.  They circled her.  He broke into a run.

    The scene from Beautiful’s Book flashed into his mind—Christiana and Mercy, ambushed in the Way.  The ill-favored one had promised to “make women of you forever.”  But the King had sent a Deliverer.  There would be no Deliverer this time.  There had been no Evangelist for him.  No Good-Will.  No Interpreter.  There would be no Deliverer for her, either.  There was only him.

    A sharp cry escaped his lips—he couldn’t hold back.  They turned.  He sprinted toward them, staff raised and swung with all his strength.  The blow landed clean—cracking against the nearest thug’s skull.  The man dropped like a stone.

    One of the brutes had the veiled woman by the arm.  “I’ll have my way with you once I finish with this runt,” he growled.  He shoved her to the ground and turned on Seeker.

    Seeker swung his staff, but the brute blocked it and knocked it from his hands.  A vision of Blunt in Stupidity flashed through his mind.  Fear surged—he wasn’t a fighter, and now he was unarmed.  But he had no choice.

    Fury welled up inside him.  He clenched his fist, drew it back, and hurled his weight into the punch.  The brute’s nose crumpled, blood spraying.  Seeker stooped, grabbed his fallen staff, and turned—just in time to see the last one running.

    Seeker held out his hand to the young lady trembling on the ground.  “Are you all right, Miss…”

    She pulled back her veil, and a wild mess of black curls tumbled free.  Her eyes were swollen, her face streaked with tears and dirt.

    “Beautiful?”  She was a mess—but she was still Beautiful.

    Beautiful sprang to her feet and fell into Seeker’s arms.

    “I love you, Seeker.”

    Seeker stood stunned.  This was the last thing he’d expected today.

    Lightning flashed in her eyes.  “I said I love you, you dumb boy!”

    She looked so adorable when she got like that.  

    “When did this happen?” he teased, heart racing.

    Beautiful stared at him, speechless.

    For a moment, they just looked at each other, then they both broke out laughing.

    Then they kissed.  It was a new beginning.

    Beautiful sat on her bed, tears streaking her cheeks.  She clutched the handbag he’d made, pressed tight to her heart.  She wanted to go to his room—to apologize.  But what would she even say?  She had counted every day.  It had been exactly seven.  She couldn’t wait another.  

    She opened the door, stepped into the hall… then stopped.

    No.  She would wait.

***

      Seeker paced his room, back and forth, back and forth.  He couldn’t think—couldn’t even read.  The list sat on the table, untouched.  He had a hundred—no, a thousand—reasons to love her.  And not one written down.

    He opened the lid of the music box and let the melody spill into the silence.  It had been a week.  He missed her.  Desperately.  How was he going to last a month?

    He reached for the door.  He’d go to her.  Say he was sorry.  But for what?  Loving her?

    He paused, hand on the handle.  She’d said a month.

    Beautiful woke to the sun rising over the horizon, a light frost dusting the ground.  The sheep grazed contentedly around her, unfazed by the chill.  Warmth still radiated from the campfire’s embers.  Seeker’s arm was around her—and she nestled in closer with a soft sigh.

    Seeker opened his eyes and smiled.  She gazed into those big, brown eyes—so full of tenderness.  Reaching up, she drew his lips to hers and kissed him, light and lingering.

     He looked at her, eyes searching hers.

     “I love you,” he said.

     No.  No.  No.  No.  

    Why did he have to ruin the moment?  She had promised—promised she’d only ever tell one man she loved him.  The kiss part?  She added that later.  Because deep down, she knew she would love the man she kissed.  And she did.  She loved Seeker.  With all her heart.  But she couldn’t say it.  Not now.  Not yet.  “I love you” was forever.  And she didn’t even know if…

    Some words shouldn’t be spoken.  He should know that.  Shouldn’t he be able to read her heart?  She loved him.  Did he really need her to say it aloud to believe it?   What was wrong with him?

Her temper flared—hot and sudden—but she caught herself, breathing it down.

    “When did this happen?” she asked, calm on the outside.  She was sure of it.

    “When you climbed the wall,” he stammered.  “When you tricked me into saying it the first time—I love you.”

    “Do you even know what love means?”  she demanded.  “Think of every reason you love me—and make a list.  Give it to me.  A month from now.”  She hesitated, then added, “We need a break.  Time to think things through.”

     Her heart sank.  Why had she said a month?  That was forever.  A week would’ve been enough.  Long enough to think.

    This was his fault.  She stood, fists clenched and walked away—leaving Seeker alone beside the cold, gray embers.

***

    Seeker sat frozen, staring at the cold embers.  What had just happened?  She loved him—he was sure of it.  And yet, she was gone.  A month.  Maybe forever.

   Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked them back, stubbornly refusing to let them fall.  Only babies cry.  He made himself a vow.  He would never cry again.  Never.

    Just then, Tirzah came out of the tent wiping the sleep from her eyes.  “Still here, Seeker?”  She paused.  “Where’s Miss Beautiful?”

    “I ruined the perfect night.  Funny thing is, I don’t even know what I did wrong.  And now she’s gone.”

   Tirzah wheeled, leveling a piercing gaze at him.  “Don’t be a dummy, Seeker!  She loves you—everyone can see it.  Except you.  She will never leave you.  Not ever.”

    Doubt filled his mind.  If only he could be as sure as Tirzah.