Her eyelids fluttered slowly open, wincing at the bright, golden sunlight that poured across her face. She sighed softly, turning onto her side even as the world came dreamily into focus: the unfamiliar nightgown whose lace collar itched at her neck, the soft rumbling of carts and cheerful voices from the street outside her window, the warmth of her sheets.
And then, crashing through it all like a boom of thunder, the knocking on her door.
"Come in," she called out wearily, blinking as she sat up on her elbows. The door creaked open, and there, standing looking awkward and confused in his white shift, was Markl.
"Sophie!" he whispered loudly from the doorway, as if someone outside would hear and stop him. "You'd better wake up. Something's happening downstairs!"
She took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself as her mind slowly came back to life. Fighting back the urge to yawn, she threw her legs over the side of the bed, arching her back as she did so.
"Something's happening?" she asked tiredly. "What is it?"
"Master Howl came to the bakery," Markl exclaimed in a rush, his words jumbling together in his urgency. "I went downstairs to help Aunt Lettie bake some cinnamon buns, and he was there, and they were yelling at each other!"
"Howl is here?" Sophie yelped, standing suddenly. Her head swam from the sudden movement. "Did he say what he wanted?"
"Yes," Markl answered meekly, bowing his head. "He wants to see you."
She winced, her chest seizing. Somehow, she hadn't expected him to chase after her this quickly – but of course, what else could she expect of him? She hadn't left a note, and even if she had expressly told him not to follow her, still, he would have come. How could she ever have thought it would be easy to find time to think?
She cursed in a whisper under her breath, wringing her hands as her mind searched for an answer of what to do.
"Sophie?" the little boy asked after a moment, his eyes wide under his mop of messy hair. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," she answered quickly, if a little absently; her thoughts were tangled elsewhere.
"Why did you come here without Master Howl?" he asked, his words again falling out of him in a confused rush. "And how come Aunt Lettie is so angry with him? Did you have a fight?"
"Oh, Markl," she said, blinking in surprise before letting out a soft sigh. The boy stood meekly before her, and she realized for the first time that he was, in his helplessness, close to tears. "Come here."
She opened her arms to him, folding him against her chest in a warm embrace. He sniffled into her nightgown, holding her tightly.
"He's dumb sometimes," he mumbled against her, his voice filled suddenly with a miserable kind of fury. "He's done lots of stupid things, but I thought … I thought now that you got married he would stop!"
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Sophie found herself saying, her voice soothing and gentle. "It's only for a little while. It's only for a little while that it has to be like this."
"But why!" Markl cried out, curling his fists into the fabric of her nightgown. "Why are you fighting? What did he do? I'll tell him to stop!"
"Oh, love, you don't have to do that," she continued in the same sweet voice, rocking him gently. "We'll work it out."
"He's dumb," Sophie heard him mutter in barely a whisper. She held him tightly against her for what seemed to be an endless moment, each second constricting the guilt and worry in her chest to the point of almost unbearable anxiety. She could hardly hold back tears herself, for the truth was that she doubted even her own words of comfort.
Would it only be a little while? Would they work this out so that everything could be perfect again?
She took in a deep breath, steadying herself once again. The only thing to do was to take this a step at a time; and the first step now was to confront her husband.
At last, she gently pushed Markl away, righting herself slowly. He looked up, surprised, his hands still curled into her nightclothes.
"Aunt Lettie said he couldn't see you! Maybe you should stay here," he said a little desperately, his face falling into a deep frown as she gently ruffled his hair with her hand.
"Aunt Lettie doesn't understand how stubborn Howl can be," she answered matter-of-factly. Very carefully, she pulled his hands from her nightgown, smoothing her hair as she walked unsteadily toward the door.
Markl did not answer; he only frowned anxiously, and then, as if unsure what else to do, he quietly followed after her.
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Lettie was carefully filling a glass display with rows of freshly baked raspberry tarts, her full lips frowning in her concentration, when she heard the bell of the bakery door chime loudly. At first, this did not alarm her in the least; there were other girls to greet the early morning customers, and so she did not look up from her work, delicately arranging another tart in a perfect row.
Then she heard one of the girls gasp, her heels clicking against the floor as she rushed forward, making a little bow.
"Good morning, Wizard Howl, sir!" she said cheerfully, though anxiety riddled her pretty voice. "What can we get for you today?"
Lettie nearly dropped a tart, so quickly did her eyebrows shoot up in alarm. In a moment she had completely forgotten her task, and had righted herself beautifully behind the counter, her arms crossed, her blue eyes narrowed icily. In her poofy pink uniform, she might have been comical were it not for the gravity of the situation.
"Good morning indeed," she said loudly, her voice sour. Immediately, Howl turned to her, and Lettie, despite herself, nearly recoiled in surprise. So used was she to Howl's perfect grooming that it was shocking to see him as he was – his hair slightly unkempt, his shirt pulled halfway out of his pants, no perfume sweetening the air. It seemed he had rushed here immediately after climbing out of bed.
But quickly, she gathered herself, dismissing the miserable, confused expression that marred his lovely features.
"Not here for pastries, I assume," she continued in her dark voice.
"No," he said, and she realized that he was panting. Perhaps he had rushed here straight from bed. "My wife, actually."
"Sophie?" Lettie asked, her voice rising to an unnaturally high note. "Hmm. No. I haven't seen Sophie since leaving your castle with little Markl."
"She's not here?" he asked, walking quickly toward her. She straightened her shoulders in alarm, steeling herself again as he approached. Up close, his face seemed even more distressed, his blue eyes dark and frantic – but of course, she had to remember that the man was a wizard! A conniving, perverted wizard who was used to fooling pretty girls!
"No," Lettie answered coldly, shaking her head. "I haven't seen her. But shouldn't you know where she is? You're on your honeymoon, after all."
The word "honeymoon" seemed to have a swift effect on the wizard, and in a moment, he stood frozen, his lips turned down in a most pathetic frown. Again, she continued to fight against his act, rebelling against her instinct to sympathize with him.
"She left the castle last night," he said a little shakily. "Calcifer informed me of it, but she didn't tell him where she'd gone. You're the first person to whom she would turn – you're the first place she'd go."
"Did your fireplace happen to tell you why she'd left?" she asked maliciously, her arms still folded against her chest. "It must be such a mystery to you."
Howl's expression seemed to collapse in on itself, and Lettie, had she not known better, might have thought that the darkness flooding his downcast eyes was the shadow of a great deal of shame.
"I get the feeling," he said, for the first time letting the desperation fade out of his voice, replaced by a strange, quiet strength, "That you know already what happened."
The blonde girl studied him coldly for a long moment, her furious eyes staring him down as she breathed heavily, struggling to control the anger that threatened to overpower her. Already their conversation was drawing curious looks from customers, and she knew that if she raised her voice, there would be a scene.
"If I were you," she said at last, icily and with a tone of finality, "I would let her go. Don't chase her down like this – just let her be, and move on with your life."
His blue eyes flashed to hers, and again, she found herself jolted with surprise – suddenly they were wild again, passionate and desperate in a way almost equal to the fear she had seen in her sister just the night before.
"I can't just let her go!" he said, his voice rising, his body pulling itself up into a posture that nearly matched her own. "She's my wife! I love her!"
By now several of the bakery customers were outright staring at them, unnoticed by the pair. Unnoticed just as much was Sophie, who had by this time crept down the stairway leading from the upstairs apartment to the bakery below. She was hidden behind the door, listening intently to their words but too frightened to interfere.
Her heart jumped, even soared, at his words.
"Love her!" Lettie exclaimed in a terse whisper, her low voice dangerously close to the breaking point. Sophie realized immediately that things had just now taken a sudden turn for the worst. "If you love her so much, why did you hurt her!"
"I can explain that," Howl answered quickly, his voice desperate again, uncharacteristically shrill. It made her feel uneasy, that tone, so used was she to Howl's mystery and confidence. Rarely before had she heard him sound so helpless, and the sound of it made her stomach twist with guilt.
"Oh, I'm sure you can," Lettie hissed again. "I'm sure you have a thousand explanations. But the reality is, you hurt my sister. You – you molested her! So if you think you can just waltz in here and drag her back to your little lair in the mountains, you've got another thing coming!"
"So she is here!" Howl exclaimed, his voice brightening slightly even in the face of his sister-in-law's onslaught. "I knew this was where she'd come!"
"Here or not, I'm asking you to leave this bakery," Lettie replied angrily, her arms still crossed firmly against her chest. "Right now."
"I'm not leaving here," Howl answered just as firmly, his blue pendent shimmering in the morning light, "Until I talk to Sophie."
"No!" the blonde girl yelped, her pretty lips twisting up in anger. "Don't think for one second that I'll give you any chance to use some nasty magical mind trick on her!"
"I would never bewitch Sophie!" Howl replied heatedly, his voice rising again. For the first time, Sophie caught the hint of true anger in his voice – and again, with the irony of his words, her stomach sunk with the knowledge of what she had done. She had practically orchestrated all of this, drawn even Lettie into it! Her sister was protecting her against a man who had done nothing but try to make her happy, at least, in every way he knew how.
Lettie snorted furiously at this, shaking her head slowly.
"Get out of this shop!" she said loudly, pointing suddenly to the door. The eyes of the curious onlookers followed her hand, but Howl stared evenly at her, his expression intimidating and strong.
Sophie, still hidden behind the door, suddenly realized just how brave it was of Lettie to stand up to a man with such obvious power.
"At least let me talk to her!" he continued loudly, stubbornly, passionately, stepping forward at once. "Give me ten minutes. Let her decide for herself if she wants to come home!"
"She's already made her choice!" Lettie announced piercingly.
"Sophie wouldn't leave me without giving me a chance to explain!" he shouted back. Several of the customers now stepped back in fear, clutching their baskets to their chests. Most of the women, at least, recognized the famous heart-eating Wizard Howl.
"There's nothing to explain, you pervert!" Lettie cried out, releasing her arms only to clench them in fists at her sides.
Sophie took in a long, deep breath. It was overwhelmingly clear to her that things were on their way to getting very, very ugly, and that if she didn't step in now, things could very well get out of control. And besides – the guilt riddling her mind was driving her forward, urging her to defend her husband, who was, after all, really very innocent in all of this – if his innocence had triggered her misguided plans in the first place.
Gathering all the resolve she could muster, Sophie stepped out swiftly from behind the door, raising her chin with as much strength as she could summon from the anxiety that dominated her mind.
"He's not a pervert, Lettie," she said loudly, her voice trembling with the effort.
And humbly, she turned away her face, blushing as all eyes turned to her.
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Sorry that this chapter took so long to put out. Heh heh … put out. All of the reviews really helped to inspire me to keep going, even when I felt a little bit of writer's block. ) I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please review!