He looked at her again, more intently this time, and an idea seemed to click into place. ‘That’s it!’ he said. ‘I need a muse!’
She furrowed her brow. ‘A muse?’
‘A source of inspiration, a reference point…’ He trailed off, his gaze intent. ‘Sonya,’ he said, and the way he said her name made her catch her breath. ‘Willyoube my muse?’
Her pulse quickened, and she clutched her wrist, trying to hold herself steady. His eyes tracked the movement, his lips parting. He met her gaze once more, and heat poured over her.
‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Yes, I will be your muse.’
11
For the next few days, Sonya thought back to that moment in Azam’s room, the way he had said her name, as if finally finding an answer to something that had puzzled him for quite some time.
She told herself it was only about the dresses, but then she heard Winnie’s voice in her head, teasing her…She tried not to think about it too much, and she was quite busy, besides. Azam had finalized the sketches, and then set about making a few sample dresses so people could see his craftsmanship at work, and she was to be his model.
She was in the shop with Azam now, trying to hold still as she stood on the platform in front of the mirrors. The sample dresses were made to her measurements, so she had to keep trying them on as he inspected them, then made adjustments, adding buttons or ribbons or lace.
Azam was a professional; he kept his gaze trained solely on the dress during this time, focused.
But that didn’t stop her from staring at him. She couldn’t help it. Not when she was up on the platform, level with his arresting eyes, the long curve of his eyelashes and the way his hair curled at the ends as it sat against his forehead. More than once she had the urge to brush his hair aside, or to wrap a lock around her finger, just to see how it felt.
She mentally scolded herself. Desire was a new emotion, and it was making her quite irrational. She wondered if it was like this for everybody. Did people just walk around, feeling like this all the time? It seemed absurd.
Azam said something, but she was so caught up in her thoughts that the words didn’t register. He looked up and met her eyes. ‘Sonya,’ he said, brows knit.
‘Yes?’ she asked.
‘Could you turn around for me, please?’
She blinked. ‘Right. Of course.’
Goodness, she needed to get a hold of herself. Azam was herfriend; she could not jeopardize that. And she most certainly could not letfeelingsget in the way of their professional relationship, not when she was intent on seeing his dreams come true! Sonya turned, glad he could not see her cheeks color pink.
Azam inspected the neckline, lightly brushing her hair aside. She felt faint but steeled herself. Then he made a frustrated sound to himself.
‘Thank you,’ he said. She turned back around and he offered her his hand, helping her step down from the platform.
‘I need to get lace,’ he said, buttoning up his waistcoat. Today, he was wearing an olive-green waistcoat with dark brown trousers. ‘I’ll have to go to Castletown for it. Would you like to come with me?’
‘Um,’ she started. Castletown was risky. ‘I would, but there are some things I must take care of here. We’re in need of a trip to the butcher’s,’ she said, giving him what was hopefully a convincing smile.
‘Alright,’ he said, finishing up with his buttons. She went behind the changing screen and changed back into a work dress, then followed him out to the hallway, where they both sat on the stairs to put on their socks and shoes.
They told Kiri where they were going, then headed out, walking together until they reached the edge of the market, at which point they went their separate ways, Azam heading north for Castletown.
Sonya could see the butcher’s from there, and she walked over.
When she entered, the strong smell of blood and meat overwhelmed her; she wrinkled her nose. There were chickens squawking in their cages and, behind the counter, she saw Enzo.
‘Hello again, darling,’ he said, giving her that charming smile.
‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Just a chicken, please.’
‘Coming right up.’ Enzo grabbed one of the chickens from the cage, and the chicken tried to fly away. Sonya jolted, and Enzo gave her an amused look, saying, ‘Don’t worry.’
He spoke soothing words to the chicken, petting its feathers until the chicken calmed a little; then Enzo broke its neck. The chicken went limp. This, at least, Sonya had seen before by spending so much time at the castle kitchens, and Enzo had done it in the gentlest manner possible.
Enzo gave the chicken to another man, who then set about plucking it, and then cleaning and cutting the meat for her. Sonya watched Enzo as he returned and wiped his hands along his apron.
