The window was close to the ground, and like most houses in Coriander, was not fitted with glass. Every winter, they were boarded up, effectively damming off what little warmth and energy the distant sun had to offer. Cold seasons were always the worst.
In the summertime, curtains were pulled back, but in Platina's case, the windows were just bare; a gaping hole just inches from where her tiny face lay still upon a flattened, straw pillow. She looked majestic, floundering in the moonlight as Lucian crept closer to her bedside.
"Platina? Are you awake?" he called softly. His trembling voice was barely audible above the blood pounding in his ears, yet it was enough to wonder if he called attention to himself already.
The girl seemed to sit up mechanically and rub the back of her hand over her eyes. "Lucian, is that you?" Nothing but a whisper.
By now, his hands rested upon the cracked window ledge and he squinted his eyes to make out her face. His silhouette blocked the path of the moonlight that formerly rested upon her hair.
"Why are you…?" she began and threw back her head with a deep yawn.
"I'm sorry to wake you at this hour, and I'm sure you're tired, but do you…do you want to sit with me out here for a bit? It's a beautiful night," Lucian murmured, anxious to speak with her. He reckoned that Platina was merely observing him with hesitance, but it took not a second more to hear her clambering out of the blankets covering her body, and start to ready herself out of the window. Lucian watched with mixed reservations, knowing full well that Platina's fragile little frame could not handle even the slightest summer night's breeze.
She took his hand gently and he guided her to the outside, not easing up on the grip in which he steadied her, until her white feet touched the cool ground. Her nightgown drew the illumination of the moon overhead and seemed to glow in the thick darkness pressing against them. Lucian considered holding her hand for just another moment, but he pulled away gently.
"Over here…" he breathed, and for many minutes, he walked and she followed, her light feet padding here and there, filling his ears. Once Platina's house was left in the shadows, she and Lucian took to the trees and threaded their way around on an invisible trail they both once walked daily. It led away from the village and with each step, the trees grew thicker, more twisted and up reaching. Only a small clearing lay ahead, that they both knew well. All at once, the shrubs and over-hangings failed to prevent them from walking, and they emerged in a tiny circle of light, a smooth slab of stone laying in wait in the middle of it.
Lucian was the first to reach it, and nobly, he helped Platina climb onto it. He pulled himself up beside her.
"It's almost blinding," she said, of the moon. The infliction in her voice told Lucian that she was smiling.
"Yes, it is," he agreed, and went on carefully, "I have been asked to go with the men who are making their way to the city, in the morning,"
Platina turned to him and replied cheerfully, "Oh, Lucian that's wonderful! I'm sure that it will be a remarkable experience for you," Lucian closed his eyes and wondered where she picked up the word "remarkable".
"Do you ever regret not being able to be schooled anymore?" he asked suddenly. She paused for a moment and answered, "Well no. Mother needs me at home and it is more fulfilling to me to help my family than to sit in a classroom for the rest of my day. She says that wasting away in that one room for the majority of the seasons, will not do me any good, nor will it teach me to keep house,"
The explanation seemed to satisfy Lucian, who was sure that she was being honest. They fell silent once more, until he felt anxious enough to speak again. "Would you like me to…return with something for you?"
Platina's soft laugh rang out in the night and she said, "I am not in need of anything, Lucian. Mother would scold me if she found out that I was asking you to come bearing gifts,"
"But you're not asking…I am," he said gently, but she didn't reply. For a long time, she said nothing, and Lucian finally turned his head ever so slightly, to glance at her. Platina's head was tilted back, her eyelashes fluttering in the soft, silent wind.
"I'm glad you woke me to see this," he thought he heard her say and all at once her hair broke free from its restraints, and Lucian swore he heard the sound of the ocean crashing against rock as masses of silvery, shimmering hair unwound itself from her plait and blew upward gently, in the night. Lucian was flooded with a sense of watching the blue sea pummel its earthen obstacles and spray into the air upon impact. His heart started to beat all too fast, as Platina seemed to ignore the unravelling of her identity.
Her hair was long and thin and beautiful, cascading all the way down her back and pooling upon the rock. Lucian deftly sunk his fingers into it, and she still did not notice. He thought of a time, many years ago, when Laia had punished Platina for coming home soiled and dirty and flushed with a childlike innocence after spending a day playing near a patch of mud. Platina's hair was chopped a few inches from her roots, and Laia sold the extra feet of hair for a great profit.
It was all there now though.
Lost in thought, Lucian's hazy eyes now recognized the sleeping figure of the girl, only because the silky strands slipped through his fingers as she curled herself upon the rock. Her hands lay flat beneath her face, and her lips were parted, as if she was speaking to something that Lucian could not see.
He watched her for many minutes, like that, and then gently woke her again to escort her back to her house.