Seven years later, the situation isn't much different. Sofia tosses and turns in bed, trying to sleep through the nightmare. It's not working.
She wakes with a whimper instead of a scream and glances to the empty pillow where Clover should be. Except her friend was no longer part of the world. She supposed this was part of her trouble.
She purses her lips and gets out of bed, sliding on her slippers. Tea. Tea would help. She ties her lavender silk robe around her slim waist and brushes the stray bangs from her eyes, her soft brown hair done up in a braid like every night to save her some work in the morning when she brushed it out.
After making sure no one was around, she quietly made her way down to the kitchen. Chamomile should do the trick, with maybe a bit of milk and sugar just to sweeten it.
Sofia smiles as a memory of her first time trying tea comes back to her as she brews her individual cup. The tea had been absolutely disgusting, far too bitter for anyone to enjoy and just plain horrid. James, however, taught her the trick to perfect tea.
No matter the flavor, if you added a little bit of milk or cream and a cube of sugar it would taste wonderful. Granted, she usually added two if the brew was meant to be more bitter. Even having grown up in the village she had an affinity for sweet things, so it was understandable she didn't much like the taste of bitter tea.
What breaks her out of her thoughts is the fifth minute of whistling from the kettle. She blushes as she realizes she had let herself get caught up on other details beyond the tea and takes the kettle off carefully, pouring her single cup.
Sofia sighs. She would have to let it cool for a few minutes, and steep so it tasted right. As she waits she gets out the cream and sugar, then loses herself in another memory.
It was, as most memories were, about James. Another of those times he had helped her out. Times that seemed so common to her, and were retaliated by her helping him as well. She was forever in his debt, though. He had helped her countless times with her nightmares. So many times she would never be able to pay him back.
She sighs again, shakes herself out of the reverie of her first flying derby tryouts and finishes making her tea. An experimental sip tells her that while it's a bit cool it's just right otherwise, and she soon finishes the cup.
She takes the extra five minutes to clean up her mess and relax a little more. As she puts an empty kettle on the stove, a chill runs down her spine and she freezes. She whirls around to see nothing there. But she hadn't imagined the shivers.
Sofia pulls her robe tighter around her and makes a possibly rash decision. If she was going to have this kind of night, she needed her best friend, the love of her life.
Without warning she starts running through the castle until she reaches where two different wings branch off. One belonging to her and Amber, which would be solely hers in less than a year if Amber's number of suitors was any indication, and the other belonging to James, both with a few extra rooms for any friends that decided to come over.
She checks the halls again before turning right instead of left and heading down a very familiar corridor, one she more often traversed in the darkest hours of the night.
She slips into his room quietly, shutting the door with a nearly silent 'click' and smiling just slightly. She moves to the empty side of the bed and unties her robe, hanging it from a small hook in the bedpost. Afterwards, she slips off her slippers and sneaks under the covers.
Sofia moves closer to the other occupant of the bed, wrapping her arms loosely around him. He opens his eyes, dark jade meeting sapphire, gives a nearly imperceptible nod, and returns the gesture.
Needless to say, she had no trouble sleeping the rest of that night. Just like every night she was in his arms.
A/N: Okay, I might have gone into a bit of a ramble with the memories, but whatever. The next chapter is going to be a bit short, but there ware longer ones later to make up for it, promise.
