“Yes,” she said, her voice cracking. “You did. I work so hard, but it’s never enough for you.”
Cedric took a step toward her before he could stop himself. The rawness of it struck him harder than any accusation.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “youhavecome a long way, and I see how hard you’re working.” He drew a deep breath. “But I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself, and I cannot stand the thought that you might suffer because of something I failed to teach you. BecauseIwasn’t good enough.”
Something shifted between them.
She peered up, eyes shining with unshed tears. “So… you don’t hate me?”
The question landed like a blow to the stomach.
“No,” Cedric said, softer now, “I don’t hate you.” He hesitated, then added, “I admire you. You care about getting this right—about protecting your brother. And I should not have acted so harshly.”
“No,you shouldn’t have,” she conceded.
Cedric pressed his lips together, accepting the shame washing over him.
“But,” she said softly, “I accept your apology.”
He glanced up, catching the smile curving on her lips.
The ticking of his pocket watch filled the space between them. For once, the crushing weight of time did not inspire fear, but a reminder of this moment. Of the tension loosening inside him, and the way her eyes sparkled as her smile softened. They lingered there long enough for something curious to stir within him.
“Well,” she started awkwardly, breaking the silence. Cedric straightened, shaking the strange sensations away.
“I shall take my leave,” he said, stiffer than he intended.
He turned, but her voice stopped him. “Thank you. I don’t have many people who care enough about me to worry. I appreciate your words more than you know.”
She nudged Bijou from her lap, slipped off the bed, and approached him. Her back was straight, chin lifted to the proper angle, her steps gliding over the floor like a graceful swan.
“Stop,” he said.
She froze, blinking owlishly.
“Go back,” he said. “Then walk to me again.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Please,” he said. “Once more. Then I’ll leave.”
With an exaggerated huff, she turned—and thenwalked back to him.
He didn’t believe his eyes at first and needed proof he wasn’t dreaming. But she walked with no hesitation. No wobble. Her movements were fluid and effortless.
Relief, pride, and something dangerously close to exhilaration swirled within him. Before he could think better of it, he stepped forward and caught her hands in his.
“You did it,” he said, breathless. “That was flawless.Youwere flawless.”
Her eyes rounded, bright and disbelieving. “I did it,” she said softly.
Then her chin lowered. For a moment, neither of them moved.
Cedric realized he was still holding her hands and released them at once. He cleared his throat, letting his arms fall to his sides while she rubbed the back of her neck.
“Good,” he said, his voice taut. “Very good, Nin. I’m proud of you.”
He looked at her then, truly seeing her for the first time in a week and a half. Cedric traced the line of her jaw with new clarity. The harsh contours of her face had been filled with palace meals, leaving her high cheekbones soft. In such a short time, she had transformed from a scrawny pauper into something vibrant. He stared too long, trying to pinpoint when she had started to look like…this.
