.
The bare bed is a surprise. Made, the pink sheets and fluffy duvet tucked in absurdly tight, but no outfit resting on top. I had expected Claudius to have a dress chosen for me like before. The tassel-ended ties are braided together and I freeze mid step in the doorway when I notice them.
"Quince! I can tell you've been in here!"
A disappointed sound coos from behind the drapes and the sprite appears with her limbs hanging heavily in a dramatic, pouting posture. "I wanted to surprise you."
"You mean jump out and scare me?"
The fluttering of her wings pauses, making her bob in the air, before she responds. "It's the same thing if you think about it."
The admission makes me laugh as I throw my backpack and coat on the carpeted floor. She flies closer and sits in the crook of my neck. Based on the seams around the bathroom door, it doesn't look like there is any light in Claude's bedroom.
"Any ideas on what he wanted me to wear?"
Her shoulders circled in a bright glow shrug at me. "The fancier the better is always a safe bet."
"Good point." I respond as I swing open the armoire doors and look through all my options.
Before I've even browsed half the dresses, his door slams open and closed on the other side of the bathroom. Quince and I flinch in unison before turning toward the connecting room. Claudius storms in, looking frazzled and sighing loudly as he pulls the top buttons of his shirt loose.
"Yes, yes. I know I'm late and I'll get something ready. You don't need to tell me."
"I wasn't going to say anything." I jump out of his way to let him skim through my wardrobe.
"That meeting was supposed to be done an hour ago. I don't know why my father has to say ten different goodbyes to every-"
"I know your preferences by now, you know? I could pick something appropriate myself if you want to wash up."
"Really?" He looks at me for the first time since he appeared. "Okay. Good. I'll meet you on my side in twenty?"
"Twenty. Got it."
He looks relieved and begins to turn away, then his gaze darts down to my hand. "Remember to put your ring back on."
"I will." My thumb rubs over the naked spot on my ring finger.
.
The fleece-lined, teal silk is chilled and heavy as I shuffle my body into the gown. The off-shoulder fit is similar enough to my new year's gown that I easily adjust most of it.
"Please don't braid them this time." I say over my shoulder as Quince flies back and forth, pulling the corseting ribbon tight along my back.
"I promised nothing." she sing-songs in my ear as she ties the ends in a bow.
As I turn in the vanity mirror to check her work, she flies to the drawers and works with all her might to pull one open. The necklace Claude gave me for solstice sits in a vibrant velvet setting inside. The sprite helps me clip the closure at the back of my neck as I pull open another drawer for matching earrings.
As Quince and I enter his bedroom, Claudius is frantically finishing buttoning the high collar of his white shirt. He gives us a curt nod as he dips his fingers into a tin of pomade and slicks his clean hair back again. I lean back against the wall, letting him fuss to whatever degree he feels is necessary. Quince glances from me to him, then leans against the wall beside as best as she can with the fluttering wings at her back.
He nods when he looks our way and takes in my chosen gown. "Hopefully this won't take too long. It will be a busy night but if we're lucky that means everyone will wear themselves out quickly and we won't be relied on for much of the conversation at the dinner table."
"Okay." I nod.
"And no alcohol."
"Ugh." I roll my eyes. "Dry parties are so lame."
"I meant no alcohol for you. Specifically you."
"What? Why not?"
"Because as far as my parents know, we are trying for a baby. And the next part of our story probably won't go over very well if they've seen you sipping scotch."
"Oh. That."
"And there's one other thing we have to discuss."
"No food or fun or breathing?" I ask as I watch him center the platinum ring on my finger.
"You don't know Marko tonight."
"Huh?"
"Some of the investors mentioned they may want to visit the gallery tonight after dinner. If that happens, you need to understand this: you and Marko have never met. You are not friends."
I can feel my expression fall as he goes on.
"Believe me, I know it's not comfortable, but he has a role to play in this too. And we both need to make it easier for him. And for me. Don't linger, don't be overly open with him. You are not friends tonight."
"Okay." A chill runs through me at the intensified roll I have to play. It's become almost easy in front of Claude and his parents. "I understand."
Quince flutters through the gap left in the bedroom door, halfway through pulling on her snowball coat. "Your father just arrived. I stayed by the carriage seams for the last block and Jacob mentioned wanting to buy something at the gallery for his fiancee."
Claudius sighs and looks down at me again. I nod assuredly and his hands release mine.
.
The rocking of the carriage smooshes my cheek where it rests against Claude's shoulder as we head for the gallery. He, his father, and the sprite dozing in my coat are the only others riding in the red velvet interior. They keep their voices low, at least one of them genuinely believing that I'm asleep. Tired isn't even the right word for what I am right now. Perhaps drained is more applicable. The guests of the evening are such loud peacocks that the last few hours have left me grumpy and wanting to be alone. Or, more preferably, spending time with Andrius. It's reminded me why I so quickly revelled in the frank authenticity of his company. The two voices pause as I feel the carriage take a long, looping turn.
"You know," Edward begins in a gruff but friendly whisper, "I'm really glad to see you two growing on each other."
Claudius shrugs and the movement lifts my face, then brings me down. "She has her moments."
The patriarch laughs quietly. "I know that your mother and I... Well, I put a lot of pressure on you about getting married these last few years. But I always wanted it for your own good."
"I know," he answers robotically.
"I mean it, Claude. I've always just wanted you to be happy."
Everywhere my body is touching his, I can feel him tense painfully at the words. I hold my breath, counting each beat of my heart while I await his response. "Really?"
"Of course. You're my son. I love you. And, look, I'm not going to sit here and try to convince you that I didn't play the field a little when I was young. I get that that lifestyle can feel fun and freeing but, after a while, it's nice to have someone to belong to. Someone to come home to, that knows you better than anyone else and accepts you, you know?"
Over my head, I can hear the gulp of Claudius swallowing and the eventual tense breath he releases. "Yeah. I understand what you mean. It... it is nice to have."
The sudden stop of the carriage makes me yelp and my eyes snap open as I slam my heels to the carpeted floor to avoid flying into the opposite side. Claudius puts his hands on my shoulders and helps me back onto my seat as his father steps out with a grumble about speaking to the driver.
Outside the carriage, the gulp of cold air I take in front of the gallery makes goosebumps rise all over my skin. The lined peacoat and elbow-length satin gloves underneath do little against the bitter cold. Against my squeezed upward cleavage, I feel Quince shivering inside the inner pocket of the coat. With a mischievous expression, she darts out wearing her snowball coat and disappears into the dark. Prophia is somehow so much warmer and easy to tolerate the winter in. Although, I think, maybe it's the knowledge that Andrius is never far that actually keeps me warm.
Bells jingle overhead as the door swings open. One of the investors, a loudmouth new money type, is already standing at one of the jewelry cases and pointing out pieces he wants to inspect closer. For a split second, I nearly break character and smile at Marko on the other side of the glass case. I reign in the expression in time and tighten my arm that's looped through Claudius' as he leads us around the showroom. My tongue swirls around in my mouth, trying to rinse away the inharmonious combination of flavors. I spent the dinner making a point to create odd pairings and asking for every possible sauce, topping, and spice. If I have to feign a few pregnancies, we might as well start now.
"Do you want to get something?" he asks as we stop in front of a case of bracelets embedded in dark velvet.
I hold out my left hand and tilt it, before bringing it to my throat to toy with the large diamond hanging from the icy snake chain. "If I wear any more jewelry, I'm afraid I'll topple over into the snow."
Claude smiles in the way that he does when I've played my part correctly. He spoke loudly enough that I could tell our words were meant to be heard, and I answered in much the same volume. The words have a deja vu to them, I must have spoken this way and meant it before, but it feels so painfully dull now. I want to slide a knife between the corseted ribbons of my dress and be free from it. I want to do something. My mind wanders to the workshop in Prophia. To the unfinished four-poster bed frames I was going to polish while Andrius began work on the matching nightstands. And the low-shelf that he perhaps didn't mean literally, but that I am committed to literally build. There is so much to do there. So much more to be than a tamed, docile bride.
As those men who were interested in buying collect their wrapped purchases, Marko slides out a tray and sets it on the top of a glass case for me to inspect. I glance up and my smile falters at the lack of recognition in his eyes. But the others are still here. One of the men comes to stand closer to me and comments on one of the ruby bracelets, though he's already holding a ribbon-topped purchase in one hand.
"I'm sorry to have missed your nuptials." Marko says with all the appropriate distance of an uninterested party.
"Nothing to apologize for. It was no more exciting than any other party in Leaven."
There's no change in his expression, and he walks away to speak to another buyer as soon as I finish answering him. Claude's fist gently taps the glass case twice as he comes to stop beside me. When I turn toward him, I notice over his shoulder that all but two of the men we arrived with have left. And those two are distracted. His silver eyes glance toward a doorway behind the display case and back at me. I follow him as he goes between the cases and we slip into the combination studio-living space. As soon as the door closes behind us, he turns to me and sighs in exhaustion.
"I meant to ask earlier, but we were running late, are you okay?"
"Am I doing this wrong?"
"What? I meant at home. You told me last time that things were weird between you and Andrius."
I gasp in realization. In the month I spent in Prophia, I had completely forgotten the tearful outburst I had in front of him.
"Fuck. Did you two break up?"
