“No, my dear,” Mistress Cedrice responded, “love works like that.”
Aden saw the two hazy figures that were Onric and Ashlin move closer to each other, and it looked as though their two shadowy shapes had melted into one shadowy shape. For a brief moment, Aden was glad he could not see the sweetness they were showing each other. Ashlin was probably wiping tears from her eyes and Onric was probably kissing the top of her head.
The sound of a light kiss moments later confirmed his suspicions. Aden felt his heart melting despite himself, but his mind was busy working over what they had been speaking of.
“Glass figurine?” he asked. “What happened to the glass rose?”
“Glass rose?” Mistress Cedrice leaned closer.
“I was holding an antique glass rose. It was quite intricate and looked to be a piece from the reign of the Majis queen. I was holding it when . . .” Suddenly, that terrible night flashed through his mind once again, but this time with startling detail. He had been examining the glass rose, taking in the delicate twist of the petals when the room darkened. Seeing Ian in danger, he had jumped across the dais immediately, reaching out towards him with the rose still in his hand. “I was holding it,” he repeated.
“Where is that rose?” Mistress Cedrice said. “It likely saved your life.”
Or cursed it.Was it worth it to still have his life if everything was entirely different? “I do not know what happened to the rose,” he said aloud, keeping his bitter thoughts to himself.
“We have left the ballroom entirely untouched until the new Councilors arrive. I’ll go look for it now!” Onric dashed out of the room.
“Let me come with you, boy,” Mistress Cedrice shuffled after him.
“How are you?” Ashlin asked, after a moment’s pause became awkward.
“Much better since I heard that you said ‘no’ when my brother asked to marry you.” Aden redirected the conversation.
Ashlin laughed, keeping the sound quiet. “I had not realized that was common knowledge.”
“It is not. He just came back here to complain about it afterwards.”
“He did?” Ashlin’s voice held a note of concern.
“I suppose there was less complaining and more . . . being proud of you. He loves you very much.” Aden found it easier to talk so openly when he could not clearly see the other person’s face, or perhaps it was just that Ashlin was easy to talk to.
“I know he does. And I feel quite unworthy of that.”
“You shouldn’t be. Feel humbled and honored. But you are more than worthy of it. It is his worthiness I have doubts about.” Aden spoke the last sentence with a note of jest.
“Well, you can stop worrying about that. I have never known someone as protecting and respective as your brother. I will not keep him waiting for too long, just long enough to . . .”
She was interrupted by the sound of the door.
“To keep him on his toes?” Aden finished her thought.
“No,” Ashlin whispered back, “to let myself get used to this new feeling of being worthy.”
“Good plan.” Aden whispered back.
“Keeping secrets?” Onric asked. “Without me?”
“No, just picking a good date for your eventual wedding,” Aden responded.
“Oh, well then,” Onric replied. “Carry on.”
Ashlin moved from Aden’s bed toward Onric. “Did you find the rose?” she asked.
“We did,” Mistress Cedrice responded as she entered the room. “And it is most unusual.”
Aden’s heart pounded. “Why?”
The older woman stepped forward and pressed something into his hand. It was long and thin, and smelled overwhelmingly of rose.
