Chapter 30 #2
She turned her head sideways to look at me, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “It’s a song my mother used to sing for me.”
The admission punched something tender open inside of me. Used to. I knew her mother had passed when Sapphire was younger, it’s been so long since she’d heard her mother sing.
I hadn’t yet ventured into the unknown parts that made Sapphire who she was. I didn’t want to pry too soon, or make her feel torn open and vulnerable. But perhaps a small step in getting to know her now would be alright. “Would you sing it for me?”
Her gaze dropped, the blush on her cheeks darkening as she dug her toes into the sand. “I’ve never sung for anyone before.”
I stayed silent, giving her time to decide. When she raised her head, her jaw was tightened the way it did when I knew she’d given too much of herself away.
“You don’t have to. Only if you want to,” I quickly replied.
She offered me a weak smile, and I wanted to change the subject before that openness she’d offered me closed again. “I was going to tell you earlier that I received a letter from the King of Lucius.”
At the mention of his name, Sapphire’s body stiffened. “The king?” Her voice carried concern.
“There is nothing to be worried about. He just asked if he could meet you.”
Her brow pinched. “Why? I’m no one.”
I shoved my hands into my trouser pockets, a soft smile on my lips. “Not to him you’re not. He knows everyone by name, even those in the dark kingdom.”
“Am I in trouble?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. He’s not like the King of Oscuro, he’s kind. You’ll be safe at the palace, just like my home.”
Blue eyes met me, her shoulders dropping slightly at my words, though the fear never left her gaze. I couldn’t blame her. New faces meant new threats. And it didn’t matter how many times I told her she’d be safe with him. Only meeting him herself would be proof.
For a moment, I thought she was going to refuse. My chest tightened as her fingers fiddled with the fabric of the cream-coloured top she was wearing.
“I don’t have anything to wear to a palace,” she murmured, almost embarrassed to admit it.
The way she said it—small, like she was apologising for existing—hit me hard. She really believed she wasn’t worthy of walking into a palace simply because of a dress.
By the stars.
I wanted to lift her chin, tell her she could walk into any palace in any realm and outshine everyone in it. But that kind of truth would only scare her right now.
So I swallowed the anger I felt on her behalf, kept my clenched fists inside my pockets, and offered her a solution instead of praise. “Lucky for you, I know someone.”
~~~~~
Hadassah opened the door before I could knock, hands on her hips, her light blue eyes bright with anticipation. The resemblance of them to Matthias’s was uncanny.
“So this is Sapphire,” she said, like she’d been waiting weeks to meet her. No doubt Adalia and Matthias had visited recently.
Sapphire froze beside me, wings tucked in, clearly overwhelmed. I gave her a small nudge with my arm. “Come on.”
Inside Hadassah’s cottage smelled like fresh bread and honey. My stomach growled on instinct. We’d been walking on the beach so long that lunchtime was long gone.
Fabrics were draped over chairs. Pins were stuck into little cushions.
Dresses half-finished clung to mannequins.
Shell jewellery hung from every corner, catching little sparks of sunlight.
I glanced at Sapphire, her eyes wide with wonder.
It was the same look she displayed when I took her to the haberdashery store.
These were the kind of things she loved.
Hadassah’s golden hair caught the sunlight as she flitted about her home. “Have a look around, dear. Touch anything you like,” she said to Sapphire as she headed into the kitchen.
Sapphire’s hands hovered over the fabrics like she feared they’d disappear the moment she touched them. There was every colour one could ever imagine, and it felt so good seeing her light up with excitement.
She stopped at a gown on a mannequin, softly trailing her fingers over the beadwork on the bodice. It was a masterpiece of lace and chiffon, the colour of the midnight sky just before the stars appeared.
Hadassah shuffled back into the room with a tray of tea and sweets. She set it down on the table before turning her attention to me. “Help yourself, Nikolas. Sapphire and I are going to be a while.” She winked.
I made my way over to the table. “Take all the time you need. I’m in no rush.”
While I helped myself to tea and food, Hadassah fussed over Sapphire, sorting through fabrics and accessories. Their conversation melted into the hum of the waves outside.
“Oh, you’ll look lovely in this,” Hadassah said, as she pulled the dark blue dress from the mannequin.
“But—”
“No buts!” Hadassah chuckled as she ushered Sapphire into another room, gown in tow.
She glanced back at me, wings tight with nerves, but I offered her a reassuring smile and they disappeared. While they were gone I helped myself to another lemon biscuit. Then another. Then . . . possibly a third. Time passed in warm, gentle lulls.
Through the cracked doorway came soft voices. Hadassah fussing, Sapphire murmuring replies so faint I could barely make them out. The sound tugged something deep in my chest. Something quiet and content.
Eventually the door swung open, and Hadassah called, “All done! But you’ll see the full result tomorrow at the palace, Nikolas. Leave her some mystery.”
I blinked. “You’re not going to let me—”
“No,” she said firmly, placing the wrapped gown into my arms. “Let the girl have a moment.”
Sapphire stepped out beside her, back in her normal dress, cheeks pink, eyes bright like she’d swallowed a small sun.
Hadassah beamed at both of us. “There. Off you go. And no getting into trouble.”
I held the gown carefully, resisting the urge to look at Sapphire and imagine her in it.
Hadassah was right.
The mystery was . . . unexpectedly pleasant.
As we stepped outside, the sun was well and truly setting, sending its orange glow across the glittering Drayton Sea. Sapphire thanked Hadassah in her kind but hesitant way and we headed down the path.
From under a bush tumbled a ball of white fluff. Sapphire stopped at the sight of two white kittens, then turned to look at me with her brow raised. “Needed a home, did it?”
Heat bloomed up my throat like I’d been caught stealing sweets, so I offered her the biggest grin. “I mean, they all do. Want another one?”
She rolled her eyes but smiled, as we took to the skies.
Twilight wrapped itself around us by the time we reached the house, soft purples bleeding into the edges of the sky. Sapphire landed with gentle ease and I was so proud of how well she was using her wings.
She walked ahead of me to the front door, feathers catching the fading light like shards of dusk. Tucked over the crook of one arm, she held the wrapped gown. I followed a small distance behind, giving her the space I usually did.
The door closed with a soft click behind me and I lingered a moment. Today had been wonderful, and I could only hope that Sapphire had enjoyed it just as much as I did. Perhaps there’d be more days like this to come.
I jogged up the stairs just in time to catch her hesitating at her bedroom door. She just stood there, one foot inside, one foot out. Then she turned back to me, the dress held against her chest.
Something between pain and happiness lingered in her eyes. It stopped me in my tracks.
“Thank you. For today. For . . . everything. You made my dreams come true,” her voice quivered.
The words hit in the soft parts of my chest. I kept my smile small—for her sake—but something inside me warmed painfully. “You deserved it.”
Her eyes glittered like sapphires under the low light where she lingered in the doorway a heartbeat too long. Like she wanted to step towards me. Like she almost did.
When she looked at my lips, I thought she might say something else. I held my breath. But she swallowed it down, whatever it was, and slipped into her room, closing the door halfway behind her.
I stood in the quiet, the fading glow of twilight pooling on the floor.
She was letting me in. Inch by inch. Careful and cautious, but letting me in all the same.
And by the stars was she beautiful. Not just in the way her hair caught the light, or how her eyes shone when she thought no one was looking, but in the way she looked at the sea, the way she’d hummed her mother’s tune, the way she was finally letting herself smile.
Her light was becoming something brighter than she knew.
And I’d be damned if I ever let anyone dim that again.