“I think,” said Gaius, trying for once not to use his persuasion, but choosing his words carefully, “that you must make your own choices concerning Netherfield...and Miss Retton. I fear I cast her in a bad light.” He didn’t divulge how much Cassia had told him, or even that he saw Gynelle at Rosings.
“I do think of her often,” admitted Blythesome. “I’ve wanted to write but didn’t know what to say...to apologize for my quick removal.” A more pensive look than usual spread over his face. “I think Ishallvisit Netherfield again.” After a few moments, he spoke with a smile. Gaius watched his friend’s eyes fill with more confidence than he was used to seeing.
Blythesome crossed the room and spoke. “Now, how about a challenge, Dark? That looking glass, there.” He pointed.
Gaius watched as Blythesome squint and start in the same way as before. This time Gaius felt he couldn’t take his eye from the glass. The object reminded him of his aunt’s last event. Why had Cassia been surrounded by mirrors?
Gaius watched his reflection dissipate as the metal golded over. Oh how he wished he understood what all the mirrors had meant.
* * *
Cassia couldn’t be more grateful for her sister’s careful attendance during the ride home. It was a cold and rainy April day, and the stress of High Mage Darkwood’s proposal and his outburst in the woods, coupled with the damp carriage, caused Cassia’s altered state to remain. The next two weeks passed in a blur of ill humor and health. But as the weather improved, her constitution followed suit. Her spirits, however, lagged behind.
Cassia sat near the open window late one evening, watching the sunset, when someone knocked on the door.
Gynelle’s cheery face peeked around and she took a seat across from Cassia. “I wrote our aunt and told her you ought to tour the north country with them instead of me.” She folded her hands. “She says if you feel up to it, they will travel to the north in two weeks.”
“But you had been so looking forward to it!” said Cassia as she put down her embroidery. The whole of the afternoon had boasted only a few flowers anyway. Everything since they left the rectory had seemed remarkably dull.
Gynelle shook her head. “I went with them last year, remember? It should be your turn. And traveling with them will help your spirits. You haven’t been yourself since Rosings.” It was true. She craved anything to distract her. She had tried to cling to her disdain of Darkwood to assuage her feelings, but she felt rather strange about the whole event. Sadness and confusion, when there should have been more anger. “That...does sound lovely. Thank you, truly, Gynelle.”
Gynelle gave her warmest smile. “Also, this note has come for you. I’ll leave you to it.”
She smiled as she stood, handed Cassia the letter, and shut the door behind her.
Colonel Caliazo. How could she have forgotten that he was to write? And eventually visit.
She broke the seal.
Miss Retton,
Thank you again for so graciously allowing our correspondence. I trust you made it home in as good of health as when I left you. I have been with Mage Colonel Brensweck one week, and I think my company gives him a needed respite. I shall need to stay with him another month at least. Promise me you’ll allow me to call upon quitting him, even if it is so far away?
Yours ever,
Phineas Caliazo
How very attentive of him. In a month she would still be on her tour of the north. He had said, at the earliest, though, so she would simply write and tell him of her unexpected travel plans. Then she paused, glancing down at the letter. If she really cared for him, wouldn’t she be more distressed that she wouldn’t see him for so long? And that she wasn’t more excited by his letter?
She walked across her room toward her writing desk to retrieve a paper and quill. The setting sun cast long shadows through the open window. It would be dark soon and she ought to ready a candle. As she rummaged through the drawer, she thought she heard heavy breathing and the rhythmic beating of silk wings.
Cassia looked quickly over her shoulder. Nothing was on the balcony. Could she have imagined such a noise? She raced to the window and thrust her head out, clutching the railing. The fading dusk held a few clouds...and a beautiful outline of a dragon flying high into the sky.
So she wasn’t imagining things. Ember had been there, if only for a moment. Why had she wished to write back to Caliazo? If she hadn’t searched for paper, she would have been close enough to touch Ember again. Maybe she could have convinced him to stay for a while in their woods.
Sadness rushed throughout her. Why did she feel drawn to that dragon so much? She sunk again into her chair by the window, her gaze falling to the floor. She heaved a great sigh and noticed a letter on the ground. Had she dropped Caliazo’s letter in her haste?
She picked it up and turned it over. The seal was a dark maroon, with a cursive “D” overlain on a few pine trees, and still unbroken. Then she noticed its slightly crumpled form, as though someone, or something, had been clutching it.
Ember had left her a letter?
With great trepidation she broke the seal and was greeted by three pages, written through in a close hand.
Miss Retton,
I must assuage your alarm at receiving a letter by stating that I do not wish to renew any of the sentiment I expressed in the Rosings woods. I do wish, however, to beg your indulgence and ask your forbearance as I clarify some of the grievances you have laid against me.
First, regarding your sister. I must admit I did wish for Blythesome to leave Netherfield. He is of such an easy temperament that he is easily swayed. I did not wish him to fall for someone who did not truly return his affections. Your sister seemed so generally polite from my observation, that I felt she could not have favored him above any other. Your younger sister, regretfully, and even at times your parents, lacked the propriety of a genteel family. I do confess Blythesome never seemed vexed by that connection, but I think this a fact even you wish could be denied. I also wish to declare that I excuse you and your elder sister from this censure entirely. Your behavior has always been above reproach.
