‘What is it?’ Azam asked, voice anxious. ‘Will she be alright?’
‘Yes, Sonya will be alright, she just needs rest,’ Kiri replied. ‘You can stop your fussing.’
‘Are you sure?’ Azam asked.
Kiri gave him a look. ‘Yes. Now, go on,’ she shooed. Azam hesitated, until Kiri gave him a little push. Dragging his feet, he left, though not before glancing at Sonya one more time. Kiri shook her head, laughing a little, and Sonya joined in.
‘I know you’re strong,’ Kiri said. ‘You’ll be alright.’ She looked at the door, where Azam had exited. ‘Don’t know what’s gotten into that boy; he usually keeps such a level head if I or Dania get ill, despite what happened with his parents.’ She turned back to Sonya, eyes glinting. ‘Special attention for a special girl.’
Sonya felt warm, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the fever.
For the next few days, Sonya spent her time on the couch by the fire, being taken care of. Dania sat with her, keeping her company,and Kiri brought endless cups of tea. The fever had broken after the first day, and she felt much improved, but Azam insisted she rested. The shop was ready, anyway, and it was up to him to come up with the sketches for the samples.
He needed to make an entire portfolio to show clients to entice them to place orders, as well as a few sample dresses and suits. She knew how it worked: her tailors showed her sketches before cutting the fabric and making her gowns.
He spent quite a bit of time on the couch beside her, and she watched as he sketched, the sure and steady way his fingers moved. More often than not, he would get frustrated and crumple up the pages.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ she asked, after two days of sketches going straight to the fire.
‘No, no,’ he sighed. ‘You focus on resting.’
While he continued to fuss, he didn’t take it too far, which she appreciated. His anxiety ebbed after the fever broke, and though he was quick to bring her whatever she needed—water, fruit, a book to read, biscuits to nibble on—he didn’t stop her from moving around herself, which she appreciated. Whenever she’d fallen ill at the castle, she hadn’t been allowed out of bed for almost a fortnight, even if she was doing better, and it had always felt so stifling.
Winnie came to visit when she heard Sonya was sick, and the girls went up to Sonya’s room.
‘A Mirabel Summer book from the shop, on loan, and dumpling soup from my mother,’ Winnie said, pulling items out of her bag. ‘Have the soup first, while it’s still hot.’
Winnie lived close enough that the soup was still steaming, and when Sonya had some, it was the perfect remedy: hot and spicy, with a strong bite of ginger and nutty sesame seeds in the broth. She felt warmed all the way through.
‘This is delicious,’ she said, talking around a mouthful of dumplings. ‘Is your mother a kitchen-witch?’
Winnie laughed. ‘No, just a good cook. She’s always trying to get me to learn her secrets.’
Sonya smiled and, after finishing the soup, they read a bit of the book together, before Winnie looked around her room. She spotted the stack of books on the dresser and read through the titles.
‘Did you buy these from the shop?’ Winnie asked, confused. ‘Was I not there that day?’
‘No,’ Sonya said, lips tilting into an easy smile. ‘Azam gave them to me.’
‘Oh.’ Winnie smiled, jumping back onto the bed. Thank goodness the soup was done, or it certainly would have splattered. Winnie picked up the empty dish and put it on the side table, then pulled her legs up, smiling at Sonya.
‘What?’ Sonya asked.
‘Nothing. That’s just so sweet of Azam.’
‘He’s a sweet guy.’
‘Yes, he is,’ Winnie agreed, ‘thoughparticularlywith you, it seems.’ Sonya’s heartbeat quickened as Winnie continued, ‘I heard he’s reopening Bunto’s shop. You know, people in the Outskirts have been after him to do that ever since he closed the place, but he never entertained the thought. Not until you suggested it, that is.’
‘I don’t understand your meaning,’ Sonya said, brow furrowed. She felt there was something she was missing, something she would have known if she had gone to school and had friends her own age. But she hadn’t.
‘You don’t find it curious?’ Winnie asked. ‘And he took you in so easily…’
‘Because he is kind,’ Sonya said. ‘I’m sure he would do the same for anyone in need.’
‘Heiskind,’ Winnie said. ‘He always has been. Even in school, Azam was the sweetest. More than a few village girls have their eyes set on him.’
Irritation cut through her, and Sonya frowned.
