Chapter 7 Rest
Rest
Aurora watched the Starmaker as he left, sitting in the sleigh they had arrived in just moments before.
“He’s late,” a voice said, and Aurora startled, having forgotten there were other people outside.
“I’m sorry?” she said, turning toward the voice.
“He should have pulled the sunlight in by now.” It was a woman who spoke, probably a few years older than Aurora, with soft brown eyes and dark curly hair that was pulled back into a bun.
She wore glasses, and her rich beige skin turned pink over her nose the longer she stood in the cold.
“I’m Ina. I manage the castle and will help you get settled.
” She had a calming presence that Aurora instantly liked.
“Thank you,” Aurora said, stealing one more glance at the trail, but the Starmaker was out of sight. “Are there consequences?” she asked, turning back to Ina. “For his being late?”
“Not for Reverie,” Ina said, motioning to two other staff members who walked down the steps and retrieved Aurora’s trunk from the sleigh. “There wouldn’t be any problems for us unless he was extremely late. But it’s quite painful for him.”
“Painful?” Aurora followed Ina around a large tiered fountain with streams of frozen water arcing out from its center and deep orange roses caught in the ice. A white rabbit sat at the base of it, looking directly at her with big blue eyes, its fur shimmering just like the Starmaker’s hair.
“His magic must be used; even a small buildup can cause his body to rise in temperature. You will learn all of this in time.”
Ina ushered her through the large door, and the rabbit followed behind.
Aurora meant to inquire about the animal, but when she stepped inside the castle, her words vanished on her tongue.
While it was bitterly cold outside, the castle was warm despite its size.
The foyer was enormous, with white marble flooring and a large stone statue that dominated the center of the room.
It was carved from pure alabaster and showed two lovers leaning in for a kiss as hands behind each of them pulled them away from each other.
A small light illuminated both of their faces in a golden glow, and Aurora was so transfixed by it that she didn’t hear what Ina said next.
“Miss Finch?” Ina asked, coming up to her side.
“This statue,” Aurora said. “It’s beautiful.”
“It has been here since the castle was built. The Sun gave it to the first Starmaker as her parting gift; they loved each other very much even though theirs was an impossible love.”
Aurora reached out to touch it, and the stone was warm. It hurt her to look at it, a love doomed from the start, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“There is much to admire here,” Ina said with pride in her voice. “Just don’t be alarmed if you hear it crying.”
“Crying?” Aurora asked in surprise.
“Over the years, more and more magic has seeped into the statue, and every once in a while, one or both of them will cry.”
Aurora silently hoped she would never hear it; she couldn’t imagine anything sadder.
“The castle is a magical place,” Ina said, pulling Aurora from her thoughts. “It is so nice to have someone new to share it with. We’re all very glad you’re here.”
Aurora looked at the woman, and though she did not reply, Ina’s words eased something inside of her.
She had lost so much in such a short time, had relinquished the life she now knew had never been hers, and the thought that her arrival was a joyous occasion to someone else was a balm for her aching heart.
It was what she needed to put one foot in front of the other and step into this new world.
“Don’t forget to look up,” Ina said with a smile, and Aurora followed her gaze. The ceiling was not a ceiling at all, but rather a thin sheet of ice clear enough that she could see the stars, so close Aurora thought she could reach out and pluck them from the sky.
“Amazing,” she said under her breath. While she would have given anything to be in the small house on the outskirts of Reverie, settling in as Farren’s new wife, the beauty of the castle was undeniable.
She wanted to hate it, to scowl at every room she walked into and resent its walls for keeping her in a place she did not wish to be, but she could no sooner despise it than she could the stars.
Aurora didn’t want her awe getting back to the Starmaker, though, so she set her mouth in a hard line and decided to keep her wonder to herself as Ina showed her to her room.
They were walking up a wide marble staircase when the entire castle lit up as sunlight streamed in through the windows.
Aurora hadn’t noticed how many there were, but it was as if the entire palace had been built to greet the Sun, not a single corner left in the dark.
She gripped the gold railing as she took it all in, the space filling with rays of buttery light, coming alive with the breaking of day.
“I’m ready to see my room,” Aurora said, turning away from the grand foyer and walking up the stairs.
The rabbit followed them as far as the landing, then lay down on an intricate carpet woven with silver and gold thread.
It seemed strange that the animal was given free rein of the castle, but Ina paid it no mind, so Aurora did the same.
“Of course,” Ina said.
Aurora kept her eyes on the floor, not wanting to see any more of this place than she had to.
She wondered what her family was doing, if they were all going about their normal chores now that she was gone or if they felt as stuck as she did.
She wondered if they could feel her sorrow, if she had left a trail of it that wound down the mountain and led all the way back to her home, her own personal glare line.
Even with her eyes cast downward, Aurora could feel the opulence of the castle, the way every marble tile and crystal chandelier and ivory candlestick seemed to be touched by magic, the way every surface faintly glimmered.
The hallway smelled fragrant, and Aurora looked up to see dozens of peach roses tucked in vases and resting on tabletops, far more flowers than she had gathered for her wedding day.
“Are there always this many flowers?” she asked, unable to silence her curiosity.
“Yes, miss. The Starmaker is very fond of flowers.”
She wasn’t expecting that, and she said nothing more until they arrived at a set of double doors at the end of the hallway, far away from the foyer.
Ina opened both doors, and Aurora stopped at the threshold.
The room was vast, with a large four-poster bed made of beautiful white oak, draped in a canopy of marigold silk.
Across from the bed was a stone fireplace, and an armoire was already filled with the items from her trunk, plus many new dresses sewn from the finest of fabrics.
There was a writing desk in the corner and another set of doors that led out onto a balcony that had been cleared of snow.
Every surface was covered in candles and flowers, and Aurora closed her eyes, longing for the comfort of her cozy loft, for hushed conversations with her sister as the fire crackled below.
“Is the room not to your liking?” Ina asked, and Aurora almost laughed at the absurdity of the question.
“Isn’t this all a bit much? Does the Starmaker truly believe he is worthy of this kind of extravagance?”
Ina bristled at the question; it was the first time her kind smile had slipped.
“The castle was quite modest when it was built, but over the years, the magic in the land has turned it into this. I imagine the Starmaker had a similar reaction to yours when he first arrived. But I assure you that as you settle into this life and begin to see all of the hardship that comes with the magic in your blood, you will start to appreciate having a beautiful home in which to live out what can be a very difficult existence.” Ina’s words were stern, and she fixed her eyes on Aurora as she spoke.
“Right now, you see extravagance, but the life of a Starmaker is one marked by sacrifice.”
“I’m sorry. I did not mean to diminish what the Starmaker does for us.” Aurora pulled her gaze from Ina’s and looked around the room once more. “It is a lovely room. Thank you.”
“I will leave you to get settled, and we will do a proper tour once you are rested.” Ina paused before leaving. “The Starmaker informed us of your troubles on the journey; there is a hot bath waiting for you, should you need it.”
Ina left, closing the doors behind her, and Aurora walked farther into the room.
She couldn’t deny how good a bath sounded, and she hurried into the washroom and saw a copper tub filled with hot water that spewed tendrils of steam into the air.
There was a fragrant oil shimmering on the surface of the water that smelled of lavender, and peach rose petals floated on top.
Aurora untied her cloak and slipped out of her wool dress, sighing as she lowered herself into the bath.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as Ina’s words swirled around in her mind.
A life that was very difficult, one marked by sacrifice.
It was then that Aurora realized how very little she knew about the Starmaker, and as she let the hot water seep into her skin and warm the places still cold from the journey, she promised herself she would learn as much as she could.
It would not help her to make assumptions or avoid looking at the place that was to be her home; if there was truly no escape from the magic in her blood, then Aurora would face it head on.