Chapter Two

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Sophie watched the clock with a stoic expression on her face.

Half past seven.

She set down her needles with a very small sigh. If one was to look into her workroom at that very second, one would've thought Sophie was simply disinterested, typical for a girl her age. She in fact, however, was very much paralyzed. Sophie looked at the stack of hats she had yet to touch. Lavender, teal, cherry, creamy white and caterpillar green bonnets. So much color surrounded her, yet, still, she felt so very grey.

Outside her small, dirty window dark clouds started to gather over Market Chipping.

"Now girls," Fanny's loud voice snapped Sophie out of her nervous thoughts. "I need to go and bargain with the silk merchant."

"We know you're out looking for houses," Martha said in an irritated mood. "There's no need to lie to us."

"Besides," Lettie continued. "We just want to talk about dresses."

"Why don't you ask Sophie to make you both new dresses?"

"But this isn't about May Day! It's about a ball! Prince Justin's Ball! We need pearls, rubies, sapphires… you pay Sophie handsomely, mother, but she can't possibly gather all the materials we need!"

As the sisters argued and their mother started to inch towards the door, Sophie walked to her window and opened it just so. A cool breeze gently tickled her nose and a distinct smell, something she learned at Porthaven, caught her attention. Looking up, she noticed the clouds. She was disheartened. It looked like she'd have to use her savings to ride the trolley after work. Or she could walk in the rain and risk catching a cold, not owning an umbrella and all. But… what about dinner?

"Yes," Sophie whispered as she closed the window. "What about dinner?"

She had no intention of meeting the wizard. Actually, she was busy coming up with clever ways to avoid the wizard she had met that morning. She knew it was all in vain, however. How could a mere mortal like her escape from the gaze of a wizard of witch? It was foolish for her to hope, she knew, but it felt better than wallowing in her misery.

Sophie Hatter disliked asking for help.

Even now, thinking about what happened during breakfast, she was mortified over her feeble ways. She had let a man, a wizard of all people, escort her through the crowds. As if she was a little child. And she had let a man treat her to two cream cakes…a delicacy. Sophie turned to the pink package sitting beside the window. She had not touched the gift. She knew she needed to eat the leftover before tomorrow morning, lest she let it waste in her workroom.

Sophie looked back to the clock. Fifteen minutes till eight.

With a new determined air about her, Sophie grabbed the spare shawl from the coat hanger along with her hat and picked up the pink package. Sneaking a peek through the doorway, she realized she had been left to close the shop. Bessie the shop assistant had gone out early to meet her husband-to-be, and Fanny must've let her two daughters follow her out the door. Quickly wrapping the shawl around her shoulders she moved to blow out the candles in the shop, the shop now darkened by the lack of light from outside.

That was when the bell above the door rang, almost like a funeral toll. At that very moment, lightning flashed.

Sophie's heart nearly stopped when she whirled around to stare at the wizard, standing in the doorway with a large black umbrella held above his shimmering hair. The lightning added a dramatic, almost frightening effect. Sophie's breathing was still shallow when the thunder rumbled, lazily rolling after the lightning. The wizard stood, unmoving, as the rain began to pour down.

"May I come in?"

Sophie blinked, surprised by his question. "I… well, of course." She didn't know why, but she felt like she had signed her will as soon as those words left her mouth. The gravity of her words weighed heavily on her mind as the wizard stepped in, tentatively.

Almost endearingly.

Something sly, something dark flashed past his face before he raised his head and dazzled her with a stunning smile. "I believe it is time." It was more of a statement than a question.

Sophie breathed in, mentally preparing for what she was about to do. This man was still a stranger to her; there was still a chance he may turn into a spiteful monster and cast a hateful spell on her very meager soul, like the girl in Kingsbury that had been cursed with the hundred year zit. So, understandably, she was very nervous when she said, "I'm sorry, but I can't have dinner with you. I haven't finished my workload for this week, and I'll need to come in early tomorrow morning to finish. I can settle for this if I decide to eat tonight," she focused her gaze on the pink package in her hands, cleverly casting her eyes down and avoiding the wizard's eyes. "Thank you for breakfast, by the way…"

After a moment of silence Sophie looked up, and to her surprise, found the Wizard smiling. He looked amused.

"Sophie Hatter," he said with his melodious voice, "why didn't you ask for help?"

Sophie blinked several times, trying to understand his question. "I don't need…" was all she could muster. She watched the Wizard close the door behind him, who proceeded to close his umbrella and set it down beside the door. He took off his colorful overcoat and placed it on the stool next to the grandfather clock. The Wizard turned, and with a grin, said, "Should we get started?"

Sophie could not move. It was as if her feet had been cemented to the floor, toes stubbornly holding onto the wooden boards, her life seemingly depended on her immobility. Still not understanding his last question, Sophie opted to asking a question of her own. "If you don't mind my asking," she started gingerly, "would you happen to be…?" Would you happen to be the Wizard Howl?

"Yes?" His smile was deceptively kind.

"I'm sorry. It was nothing." This was also one of her faults. She wasn't one to speak her mind—she was a coward. Sophie would promise herself everyday: Don't hesitate; speak out loud; let them know; defend yourself. Yet she never quite kept her promises. Even though she detested breaking promises, she eventually learned that she wasn't a dependable person. Perhaps dependent, but nothing else.

"How delightful," the wizard said, pulling Sophie out of her sulking. "Such a quaint workroom!"

It was one thing for a wizard to visit her in a shop; it was another for a complete stranger to step into the haven of her private room. Sophie quickly shuffled after the wizard and found him already making himself comfortable in her workbench.

"What, what are you do—I mean, I was about to close the shop, so we really shouldn't…" She clammed up when she saw the two intense cerulean eyes. The wizard's eyes were beautiful, yes, but there was something about them that unnerved her. Trying to speak to someone with two marbles for eyes was somewhat intimidating; no matter how magnificent those eyes were.

"I see you have quite a lot of work left. We should get started."

We should…get started?

"Why don't you rest up and enjoy the cake?" Howl grinned. "I might need your help in an hour or so."

Sophie was shocked. Was he suggesting that he do her work? "I can't, I can't ask you to help me with those!" she said, waving at a particularly high stack of hats.

"Why?" was his simple question.

A good question indeed. Why did she always refuse help? Was she too stubborn for her own good? Did she like being independent all the time? Had she always been this resistant to assistance? No. None of it was true. She only wanted to prove to herself that she was capable of something, anything.

"It just wouldn't be right." Sophie couldn't think of anything else. Right then she felt so weak, so helpless, that she began to feel sorry for herself. Why did she hesitate whenever she thought about asking Fanny for a raise? Why couldn't she tell Lettie and Martha that she wasn't being "handsomely" paid? Why did she always shy away whenever she was in a crowd? Why did she cower when a farmer's son deliberately nudged her back?

How pathetic was she?

"Sophie," the wizard quietly said. "Sometimes it's OK to be dependant." He slowly stood up and rested his hand on the rough surface of her worktable. He watched her with unwavering eyes, noting the uncertainty in her eyes, analyzing the way she slightly twisted the edges of the packaged food.

Sophie stiffened when Howl the Wizard walked over and delicately tilted her chin up with his thumb and index finger. Her first instinctive act was to look up at his features, momentarily forgetting his two marble-like eyes. His refined face seemed even more captivating in the darkness of the workroom. Sophie held her breath, not protesting when his thumb yearningly traced her bottom lip. The tension broke only when an exceptionally bright lightning flashed outside the window, dragging along the typical roar of thunder.

"I'll…I'll go get you coffee," Sophie said in a hushed voice, fear threatening to overwhelm her words.

"Of course." As soon as Howl released her chin she was out of the room. Sophie felt it the moment whe walked out the door; the room had felt so confined, so suffocating, she thought she was actually in a closet. She hurried to the shop counter and lit as many lamps as possible, lashing out at the shadows. As soon as she was satisfied with the lighting she rushed to the backroom.

She did promise coffee, after all.

---

"Sir?"

Howl gave a thoughtful noise and did not turn around.

Sophie quietly set the small wooden tray beside the wizard and straightened the small cup and spoon. From the corner of her eyes she saw the elaborate needlework of twists and turns work around the rim of a dark ruby hat, the yellow strings dancing about the headpiece with as much artistry as a dancer. Her eyes fell to the wizard's hands, which were rooted on the table. He was using magic.

"I hope you don't mind," Howl said with a smile, "that I've chosen an unconventional route."

Figuring she had been caught staring, Sophie looked away as she felt her face heat up. "I don't mind at all. I'm just grateful…"

"You should rest," he continued, sparing a quick glance to make his point. "Such a pretty flower shouldn't waste her youth away before she fully blooms. Go ahead, sit down."

Feeling out of place, even though this was her work area, Sophie cautiously sat down on an older stool. She leaned her head back on the wall and ignored the slight creak of her seat. He was right. She was exhausted, though she'd never admit it. Her eyelids began to droop down as soon as she found a comfortable position on the stool. With her elbow on the table and her head pressed up against the wooden wall, Sophie slowly drifted to a peaceful slumber.

It felt like it had lasted for only a second: The sunlight was in her eyes even before she heard the morning birds' chirps. Rubbing her watering eyes Sophie looked around, disoriented and groggy. Her neck was cramped and her elbow wasn't doing any better. Figuring she had fallen asleep in her workroom and not her room, Sophie quickly stood up before she could slump over the table and retreat back to sleep.

She looked to the clock. It was eight in the morning.

Sophie turned to her table. It wasn't very surprising—perhaps she had expected this as soon as she woke up—to see the finished stacks of hats and bonnets. They were all done; every single one of them. She held her forehead, feeling a delayed reaction of shock and guilt. He had done all of this while she had slept through the night. Then she paused.

Her forehead was warm.

A fever? No, she felt fine. This warmness was familiar… as if somehow, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had consciously experienced it before.

"Sophie!" Fanny unceremoniously entered, surprised as much as Sophie was to see the other there. "I didn't see you come in! Have you been here all night?"

The teenager opened and closed her mouth, unable to find the right words to explain what had happened. She supposed she should settle for an easy "Yes" and revert to silence afterwards.

"Well," Fanny smiled, genuinely impressed. "You managed to finish all this in just one night. You have a real gift, Sophie. I should give you a bonus for all you've done."

Sophie smiled tightly. Her façade was painful but necessary. She did not like being praised for another's work, but she didn't think Fanny would appreciate having a Wizard in her shop, primarily overnight in Sophie's room. Silence was golden.

"We don't have anything in the back for you to fiddle with today. Why don't you relax for a bit before the next shipment?" Fanny happily said and walked out of the room in a very pleasant mood.

Sophie turned to the open window and slowly moved to close it, trying to ignore what Fanny had said.

"I should give you a bonus for all you've done."

Was it right to accept that? The question repeated itself over and over in her head like a broken record. Sophie closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to figure out where she was at. That's when the tip of her right index finger brushed the wad of paper tucked in her hair. She wasn't the type to write a note-to-self and then forget about it, especially if it was a type of reminder.

Pulling out the note she unrolled the wad and read the contents.

Sophie—

Wonderful time last night. Hope we can do it again soon. Thank you for the coffee.

Would love to accompany you to the Prince's Ball.

—Sincerely, Howl

Sophie held her forehead again, this time feeling quite sick. This note was an answer to the question that had been nagging her all day yesterday; even though she had been sure, even though she had no doubts in her mind, she had not been given any confirmation to her suspicions. This note was proof to that: The wizard was indeed the infamous Howl.

Worst of all, she began to realize why her forehead had felt the way it had when she woke up. Because, in her dream, she remembered seeing Howl the Wizard lean over and give a sleeping girl a peck on the forehead.

And that sleeping girl, she now knew, had been her.