The next morning, Harinder woke to the sound of a bugle in the wee hours of the morning. He quickly got dressed and left to see the guard who had given him instructions the previous evening.
He saw a group of workers standing outside in the courtyard of the palace. He joined them and waited for his briefing.
After receiving new instructions, he carried his plowshare to the gardens. He would turn the soil and plant new seedlings in the rich soil on his first day at work. He whistled as he worked, happy in his heart, the thought of the chance to see the princess daily uppermost in his mind.
He heard her first before he saw her leaving the gardens. She was singing another song.
Perhaps, this time it was the song of a lark who delighted in feeding its care. Her nimble feet so effortlessly stepped away from the stones on the ground, treading with care while stepping on the wild grass that covered portions of the pathway, deliberately avoiding trampling its tender leaves.
Marianetta walked as though on water. So gentle were her steps that Harinder could feel the lightness beneath her feet. His heart swelled in his chest, and his eyes followed her until she left the palace grounds.
He went back to his place of work, a little lightheaded, whistling as he continued his task at hand. He knew the hour when the princess would return, and he couldn't wait to see her.
Engrossed in his work, Harinder did not notice time fly past. He took great care in planting the seedlings so as not to lose any to the animals that trample. The weather too would be a hindrance for a seedling to sprout and mature into a healthy plant. The tiny seedlings needed the right amount of shade and sun.
As evening neared, Harinder felt anxious and couldn't wait to see the princess.
He walked to the springs nearby and washed his face and hands. He looked at his reflection in the tiny pond to make sure that he looked clean and tidy.
When the other workers left for the day, Harinder sat down under a tree closest to the pebbled path. He wanted to get a clear look at the princess.
The branches hung low, and leaves lay scattered on the ground where he sat. Harinder picked a leaf to scrutinize. It was an almost dried leaf. The veins on the leaf were prominent like the lines on the palm of his hands.
Harinder wondered at those veins. They kept the leaf supple when green and held it together in perfect formation. Then, when the leaf dried, the veins would tear at its seams, and the poor leaf would tatter into fragments, disintegrating into a bed of compost.
The compost was the nourishment for the soil and sustenance to newly budding plant life.
Harinder thought about how lucky he was to have found work that truly gratified his humble heart. He loved being in the wilderness of nature when even through the harshest weather, you can find an affinity with the trying weather. The beauty of which is captured from afar, like when you see thunder and rain lash out in torrents of anger or snow-hardened landscapes break away from their maiden form, you see the revelation of nature's wonders from afar. For if you are within its confines, you will be just as endangered by its assault.
The skies were turning in for the night. He heard her voice in the distance. It seemed to reverberate through the gardens. O' that the heavens have adorned her with a beauty to match, of that of a voice of a lark and the gift of a sensuous human form!
He stood up in anticipation. He hoped to get a good look at the princess this time.
As the entourage got closer, Harinder saw the perfect features of the princess. She had an oval face. Jet-black hair adorned her in cascading crowning glory. Her eyes shined, and he wondered at their color, was it hazel or tinged with green? Her nose was a little upturned, and her lips were beautifully carved on her porcelain face. She was gorgeous, he thought spellbound.
She walked ahead of the other two maidens, one on her left carrying an empty tray and the other on the right holding some braided jasmine flowers in her hand.
Harinder knew that the princess and her maidens would have bathed in the river before returning to the palace.
This time, the princess saw him standing by the tree. She glanced at him, a tiny whisper of a smile forming on her lips.
Harinder felt himself go cold. He wasn't sure if he could smile back at her. He stood rooted to the ground.
As she passed him, Harinder bowed as a mark of respect, hands clasped together.
After walking a couple of steps, the princess turned back to look at Harinder. She called him to appear before her. "You, over there. Come here."
Harinder quickly walked up to the princess. He stood before her, not daring to look her in the eye, so he kept his head bowed.
"Where do you come from?"
The princess knew that he was from the mountains after having been briefed by her aide earlier. However, she wanted to hear him tell his tale again.
She stared hard at the peasant. He had a well-chiseled face, a statuesque posture, and was of fair coloring, as is customary with the tribes of the mountains. His eyes were like two slits, so you cannot make out their color, neither big nor was it a prominent feature on his long-drawn face. He had a well-formed nose and an attractive smile.
He kept his eyes lowered when answering the princess, "I come from the mountains, Your Highness. There was an avalanche, and my family and I were trapped between rocks and rubble, and every one of them perished without food and water. I managed to climb out of the rubble, and I made my way into this Kingdom a few days ago. I seek a new life with your permission here."
The princess listened and felt sorry for the peasant. However, she gave him a curt nod and walked away without saying anything.
The peasant had made his way out of the rubble. Surely, he was strong and capable, the princess thought along the way. She wanted to give him another post in her Kingdom that will make him an authority within the palace grounds. She could see his willingness to rise above calamity. By now, the sun had set, and as Harinder stared hard at the entourage's receding backs, their silhouettes represented the grandeur that thrived within the palace.