Several years later, it was the girls now who lathered Green with so much attention. The black eye had faded, and he had grown into an astonishingly handsome young man, charming and charismatic to all that met him. No girl in the whole of the Pallet Kingdom could look upon him now and deny him.

At least, besides Hanne. She refused to let him coax her into anything; after all, to her he was exactly as charming as he'd been as a child - that is to say, as charming as a particularly large slug. At nineteen, he was now taller than her and revelled in it. One of his favourite pastimes was to rest his elbow on her blond crown of braids as he read and stay there regardless of where she tried to walk.

This is what he did now, with a grammar book in hand and a rather displeased Hanne under.

"Hmm… Hanne," he said as he walked with her to the kitchen, "it says here that 'there are very few man of letters, who have acquired accuracy of pronouncing sentences; while the greater part of Instructors are illiterate men and women, who are wholly ignorant of rules respecting both.'" The young woman kneaded a large ball of dough she'd left on the table to rise not long ago. "Do you fall under that 'greater part'?" He was teasing, as usual, but Hanne's palms dug more viciously into the soft dough.

"Have you nothing better to do than distract me from my chores?" she snapped, and Green removed his elbow from the crown of her head to tap her nose with the corner of his book.

"I am quite distracting, after all."

And with that, Hanne pushed him out of the kitchen to "go find someone else to bother, and preferably not your grandfather".

As it was a pleasant autumn afternoon, Green decided to sit on the bench outside the house and enjoy the sun before winter shortened the days. The sky was a bright blue, utterly devoid of clouds, and the smell of red and orange leaves had settled into the cool air comfortably.

"Green Oak?" The young man looked up from a particularly enthralling chapter on hanging prepositions to see a messenger standing in front of him and holding out a cream envelope, its corners tastefully gilded.

"Hullo, what's this?" asked Green as he took the paper and admired the ornate lettering of his and his grandfather's names.

"An invitation, sir," said the messenger. "I didn't read it." Green gave him a nod and stood, stretching, to go back inside. He paused, however, observing the man's tired clothes and face too worn for his age. Of course he hasn't read it, Green thought. He can't. His eyes fell to the printed pages in his hand.

"Well," he said, mustering up some sort of authoritative air, "I haven't any change for you, so take this instead." Green shut the little book and held it out to the messenger. He waved it encouragingly for a bit, but the older man only shook his head.

"I can't, sir."

"Go ahead, I've read it already," Green insisted, and the courier tentatively took the book, his eyes darting between Green and it incredulously. "And the next time someone sends me an invitation, you can read that, too."

"Grandfather!" Green called as he knocked on the door of the inventor's workshop. The handle was locked, as it had often been recently. The old man had also been spending hours upon hours cooped up in there as of late, only taking breaks to use the toilet - he even took his meals in that room.

"I'll only be a moment!" There was much shuffling and the dull thud of metal on wood before Samuel opened the door for his grandson. "What brings you here?"

Green could see the tiredness in the lines of the old man's face, but a twinkle still shone in his eyes. "We've been invited to a dance, a ball, at the home of Sir Red Emerson tomorrow. We shall go, of course?"

"Ah, certainly, my boy. An excellent opportunity to socialise. You see how important your lessons have been?" Samuel's voice was teasing, and he chuckled as he pushed Green back out into the hallway. "Now, go, find something absolutely astounding to wear to catch all of the girls' attention."

"I could do that in peasant garb, Grandfather. None of those girls interest me."

"Ah, still so bumptious. Go on, go on, I've got much work to do."

Samuel shut the door and locked it behind him. His surprise had nearly been spoiled.

He crossed the wooden floor of his workshop and warily opened the doors of his largest cabinet. Inside stood a doll, life-sized and in the form of a startlingly beautiful girl with striking blue eyes. He carefully lifted her out, her creamy skin cold to the touch, and set her down on her feet.

"I apologise for throwing you in there so suddenly," Samuel said, brushing the dust off of her light brown hair, but she only stared at him. "I hope you can forgive me, Blue."

Upon her completion the year earlier, the inventor had found that he hadn't named his lovely automaton. Inspiration had struck as he looked into her eyes, blue as the ocean, and they had become her namesake.

At his behest, Blue sat at his worktable, her movements measured but not nearly as unnatural and static as they had begun. "Now," said Samuel, "speak to me."

"Oh," she only replied, and the inventor sighed. Despite her heavenliness and her realism, he could not induce her to utter any other syllable. It was the only downfall of his masterpiece, who could have otherwise engaged any human in conversation and social affairs.

Soon, he resolved. Soon he would be able to make her speak, make her sing for him like the girl in whose image she had been moulded. That pure voice still rang clearly in his head after nine years, sometimes waking him in the night. He had attempted experiments with sound, including a rather sweet tin bird that sang several songs for him, but he could not, try as he might, replicate the human speech in this girl.

However, he'd made do with what he had, and he had even begun to fashion dresses for her, like his own daughter. Taffeta, lace, and silk of all sorts of colours filled his wardrobe, which now looked more appropriate for the tailor's than his workshop.

Tonight she would model for him the loveliest yet, a deep blue gown to perfectly match the shade of her eyes and lie across her shoulders to reveal her white neck, as graceful as a swan's. Perhaps she was the princess of a rich kingdom. Perhaps she was a baroness, attending a ball like Sir Emerson's.

"Come, Lady Blue, dance with me," Samuel said with an adoring smile as she curtsied for him. Her mobility had improved dramatically, and while he waltzed with her around the space of the little workshop, he felt a welling sense of pride in how she followed his lead and the tempo of the music solely within his head.

Too soon, it seemed, had the candles melted down and the hour drawn late. The inventor unwilling gave a final bow to Blue, who curtsied back ever so daintily before carefully climbing back into the cabinet Samuel had been required to make her home to avoid prying eyes. The old man locked the door behind her, pressing a goodnight kiss to the mahogany wood before he left for bed.

"Come, Grandfather, or we shall be late!" Green called through the house as Hanne slipped his coat over his shoulders and adjusted the collar of his shirt.

"Hold the carriage, Green," she said, her patience wearing thin already, and shoved him toward the door. "I'll fetch him." As the young man stepped outside, she ran up the stairs toward the workshop. "Mr Oak!"

"Yes, yes!" she heard him respond faintly. "I'll be only a minute!"

She reached the door of the workshop, and from inside Samuel could hear her impatient knocking. Still, Blue climbed into her cabinet as fastidiously as ever, and he didn't dare push her, lest her fragile mechanics suffer consequences. Again, he had lost track of the time as he admired his handiwork in her cerulean gown. He shut the wardrobe behind her and quickly strode to the door, opening it to meet a rather vexed Hanne with his coat in hand. She hurried him along the hallway and out of the house, where Green waited with their carriage.

In Samuel's haste, however, he had left Blue's cabinet unlocked.

"Now honestly, Samuel, don't you believe it's time the young man find a suitable wife for himself? He's no longer a boy stealing bread with the peasants," said one of the attendees of the ball, a stout, rubicund professor of medicine at the nearest college. Samuel had been offered a position there in years long past, but he had refused. The two of the men had become acquaintances over time, often sending letters on new developments in either invention or pharmacology.

"Lord Leighton," said he, observing his grandson, who had been surrounded by a gaggle of young women upon entering the hall, "as much as I agree, I do believe he has some time to enjoy before marriage." The topic of Green's marriageability had become something of a sticking point between the lord and the young man, with Samuel often pulled between the two. Lord Leighton had heavily hinted that Green may find a seemly girl at this particular ball to wed, and the inventor sincerely hoped his acquaintance was right, for he had grown weary of the petty arguments.

The hall suddenly fell silent, and the three men surveyed the room to determine the reason. Green was the first to notice her, his breath hitching in his throat at the sight. Murmurs, appreciative and gossiping alike, rippled through the crowd as she stood at the top of the stairs.

She was a young woman, svelte and with ivory white skin that contrasted with the cornflower blue gown that hung off of her dainty shoulders. The many-layered skirt of the dress brushed against the floor, long enough to conceal her feet. Her shining chestnut hair was coiled into a bun at the nape of her neck, a few curled strands left out to frame her oval face. There was an air of regal grace about her that made her appear to be floating on a cloud.

"I say, Samuel," the lord breathed. "Who is that beautiful girl?" A smile grew on the tinkerer's face as the realisation dawned on him, despite his confusion on how she might have found her way to the ball.

"Blue, my dear! How lovely it is of you to attend!" Samuel called to her, and she carefully descended the marble stairs. In her deportment there was something measured and stiff, and whispers from the ball-goers echoed through the great hall. The crowd parted as she crossed the tiled floor with delicate steps toward him.

She was even more striking from this closer distance. Her face was like that of a china doll, her lips like a ruby rosebud and nose fine and elegant. If Aphrodite had ever come to earth, Green was certain this woman was she. He struggled to control his shallow breathing as he knelt down to place a chaste kiss on the back of the girl's startlingly cool hand. She looked down at him curiously, thick lashes framing her deep blue eyes.

"May I introduce my grandson, Green."

"Oh," said she, her doe eyes blinking.

"It is an extraordinary pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady," said Green as he straightened up, and his heart felt ready to leap from his chest.

Samuel found a singular pride in the envious stares Blue received from other girls and in the way the men tripped over one another to get a closer look at her porcelain beauty. He had deceived the entire ball with his magnificent creation, including his own grandson and the esteemed professor! Unfortunately, he had not been able to help with her speech, which remained extraordinarily limited. But, he decided, better this than the chirp of a bird!

The crowd soon began a waltz, and Green immediately swept the entrancing girl away for the dance. Her movements were as lithe as she was radiant, and he became lost in her shining blue eyes. He saw the life stirring deep in them and the same adoration that he held for her. So spellbound was he that he could not feel the coldness, permeating her white gloves, of her hands upon his shoulders or between his own fingers. A terrible emptiness gripped Green as they separated to change partners and a young blonde fell into step with him.

He could not hear a word the new girl said, only focused on how close those other men dared to dance with Blue and how he should like to run over and keep her all the night. As partners continued to rotate about the hall, he could peer over heads to see longing in her eyes like deep pools of water, longing to be back in his arms. Then one of his partners, a stuffy sort of girl that seemed to lead rather than follow his steps, made a remark that caught his attention.

"She is dreadfully...dull, you know. Lovely in the extreme, but awfully dull." A terrible annoyance filled Green at this young woman's jealous words.

"You know nothing of her," he snapped, finally tearing his eyes away from Blue. "How could you not see the light that shines from within her eyes? The love in her gaze is far more than any other's petty stare." The brunette was taken aback by the vehemence behind his assertion, and neither said a word as the dance ended.

Green's eyes were only for the slender girl with the ivory skin and royal blue gown, and he wove through the crowd with exceeding swiftness to meet her again.

"Come with me," he said softly against her cheek, and he led her, readily compliant, to a balcony that overlooked the twinkling lights and majestic fountain of the castle's garden. He saw the sky of stars reflected in Blue's eyes, and he simply could not restrain the words that tumbled from his lips.

Green clasped her cold hands in his. "How you beguile and tempt me, my heavenly lady. Your beauty is bewitching, captivating, enthralling. I cannot look away without my heart feeling squeezed with such anguish. Tell me, do you love me, my evening star? I need but a single word!"

Blue only sighed, "Oh, oh," and the young man took that as a wistful reciprocation of his love. He bent down to her mouth when his lips were met by ones as cold as ice. But he held, and Blue did not withdraw from him; slowly he could feel warmth and life fill her touch.

"Lord Leighton," Green declared, and the professor turned from his conversation with another man. "Perhaps it should please you to know I have found my future wife."

The lord's ruddy face betrayed surprise at the young man's confidence as Samuel chortled at his grandson, taking a sip of his wine. "And who might this lucky young woman be?"

"The loveliest girl I have had the utmost pleasure to meet tonight. She is quiet, but she needs no words to express the deep love I see in her eyes as her heavenly gaze meets mine; it is as though she speaks directly into my mind. Never have I been so entranced by a woman. She is exquisite, her lips as soft and pink as the petals of a rose, and her fingers as fine and beautiful as those of a doll. Her name is Blue."

Samuel's glass shattered on the floor at his feet.