Winnie looked amused. ‘I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that regard,’ she said. ‘I think he likes you.’
Sonya gasped. Her gaze jumped to the door, hoping nobody had heard.
Winnie giggled deviously.
‘You’re wrong,’ Sonya said, shaking her head. ‘He can’t—I don’t…It makes…What—’
She didn’t know what to say. Everything was so jumbled in her mind. Her heart was beating too quickly. She didn’t know what she felt or how to decipher it; it felt like trying to read a book in a language she didn’t understand. She felt faint, but she was prone to fainting, so she wasn’t sure what that meant, either.
Winnie seemed to understand perfectly. She clapped her hands. ‘This is exciting!’
‘No, it’s horrible!’ Sonya said, falling back onto her pillows. Even so, a thrill shot through her—the kind of feeling that was both wonderful and absolutely terrifying.
More than her confusion, Sonya reminded herself that despite how close she felt to him, she didn’t know Azam that well at all, not truly.
And he certainly didn’t know the real her.
‘We’re better off as friends,’ Sonya said. She knew that, and yet, saying the words out loud still disappointed her.
‘Boo, you’re boring,’ Winnie said, hugging a spare pillow to her chest.
Sonya gave her a look. ‘And what about you, hm?’
Winnie furrowed her brow. ‘What about me?’
‘You get this look on your face,’ Sonya said, ‘whenever Enzo is around.’ Winnie scoffed, eyes sparkling. ‘See! That’s what I’m talking about!’
‘My evident disgust?’ Winnie asked.
Sonya laughed. ‘The sparkle in your eyes.’
‘My eyes are naturally sparkly, darling,’ Winnie said, cracking a smile. They both laughed, and guilt needled through Sonya. She wanted Winnie to know the truth, but she didn’t know how to tell her, either.
Winnie stayed for a bit longer before heading home, and then Sonya fell asleep in the great heap of pillows and blankets Azam had brought to her bed. When she woke hours later, it was deep in the night. She got out of bed, wanting to stretch her legs, and went to the bathroom. On her way back, she noticed the light was on in Azam’s room.
Curious, she went over, knocking gently. She wondered if he’d forgotten to blow the candle out, but then she heard his voice call lightly, ‘Come in.’
Opening the door, she entered to find Azam sitting on the floor, papers all around him. She caught glimpses of frenzied sketches, and bunched up scraps, and then his mother’s old sample books.
‘Goodness,’ she said, taking it all in.
‘I know.’ He sighed, looking around him.
‘May I join you?’ she asked.
‘Please,’ Azam said. He moved some papers aside so she could sit beside him on the rug.
She looked around, moving some papers; many of the sketches were only half finished and messy. He had been keeping his sketchbook very close, not divulging the designs to anybody. Shehad only ever caught glimpses, and that was usually before the sketch made its way into the fire.
‘These are my mother’s,’ he said, showing Sonya Bunto’s sketchbook. Those, of course, were perfectly neat and also very beautiful. ‘I want to keep a similar style, while also making the designs my own.’
‘Hmm.’ Sonya made a thoughtful sound, looking around. She shuffled the pages, choosing the ones she liked most.
‘These are all lovely,’ she said, showing him her final pile. She flipped to one in particular; it was baby pink with little pearls on the bodice. ‘I love this one best,’ she said, a small smile tilting her lips. ‘Pearl work is always so beautiful, and it reminds me of my mother’s bridal outfit.’
Azam looked up at her, expression soft. She shook her head; she probably shouldn’t have said that. People had seen portraits of the king and queen’s wedding.
‘Anyway,’ she said, clearing her throat as she flipped to another design. ‘These are stunning. I would wear any of them in a heartbeat.’
