Give Me Your Riches: Chapter Eight

The library of the castle had become a seldom used place once the Royal Children had finished their schooling, but the past week had brought it new life. Sofia had spent every spare moment spread across its tables with towers of books. Today was no different, regardless of Amber's Annunciation Ball just hours away.

Exactly what Sofia was researching still wasn't exactly clear to her. Her tea with Lucinda hadn't done much to abate her confusion at her father's odd behavior. The following morning, King Roland had apologized at breakfast for his outburst but stood by his declaration that the abandoned portions of the garden were to remain off limits. His interactions with Sofia over the week had been short both in number and in tone.

Burning for answers, Sofia had pulled books on architecture and history, lineage and geography, diplomacy and heraldry. She was searching blindly for any reason her father would have to forbid her interaction with the well in the garden. She took notes when facts caught her attention, but the books didn't cover much beyond what she had studied while at Royal Prep.

Sofia exhaled lightly, closed her book, and checked the large gilded clock seated on the mantle above the fireplace. She still had time. She took a fresh book to a comfortable chair nestled between the stacks and flopped down into its pillowy cushions. She was beginning to come to the conclusion that she would need something more to find her answers. Something more than what was contained in this library but what that was, she had no idea.

Sofia was so deeply engaged in a book about troll stone masons that she didn't notice as Cedric entered the library. He approached quietly, respectful of the hallowed space, and found himself stilled by the sight of his young apprentice. She struck a stunning image in an ethereally silver gown accented with dark amethyst jewels across the bodice and neckline. Her face had been made-up, likely at Princess Amber's insistence, but it had been done with a light hand. Her hair was swept up behind her tiara, the coronet announcing her station to all who saw her. The image she painted might have been ruined for another man with the rather unrefined way her skirts were sprawled around her in her chair, but Cedric found her all the more endearing like this: lost to her task with her nose buried in a book. It was moments like this where Cedric had to firmly remind himself that she was a Royal Princess of Enchancia.

Something about her had changed a week ago but she wouldn't discuss it. Cedric hadn't pressed her, but it seemed unlike Sofia to keep something so impactful to herself. How many hours had he been made to endure her babbling worries over tryouts for the Flying Derby or losing touch with James as he traveled the world in his knightly education? Perhaps that was the cause of her distress? James had been scheduled to arrive for this ball but had sent word ahead that his arrival would be, regrettably, delayed.

Still, time was fleeting. Cedric had a task to complete, though he was remiss to disturb her.

"Princess Sofia?"

Sofia's head shot up and she seemed to take in the world around her for the first time. "What time is it? Am I late? Amber will kill me! Where are my gloves?!"

Sofia shut her book and the snap of it closing echoed around the room. She set it aside and tried to stand but the combination of the depth of that chair with those voluminous skirts and stiff corset made standing on her own a challenge. Seeing her struggle, Cedric took the few steps to reach her and held out his hand helpfully. Sofia took it and together they tugged her to her feet. She stumbled and collided against his chest as he stood firm. They laughed and then quieted as Sofia lingered there, close to him. She tilted her head up toward his, her wide eyes drinking in his smile before it faded. Cedric took a step back and cleared his throat. He released her hands gently and, with a wave of his hand, summoned her gloves to him, handing them to her.

"You're not late yet, only nearly, Princess," he said, emphasizing her title as an audible reminder to himself of what she was. "Amber has Baileywick in a rather fragile state. He asked me to come and find you while he does some other impossibly miniscule task to satisfy your...perfectionist of a sister. Your maids said you left your rooms nearly two hours back and I thought to find you here."

Sofia pulled on her elbow-length gloves and hurriedly brushed out her skirts as Cedric spoke. She noticed he had put significant effort into dressing for this ball, as it was unavoidable for him. As the Royal Sorcerer of Enchancia, he would need to be there to witness the official announcement of Amber's intentions to succeed the throne after her father. Cedric had neatly tied back his hair with a simple black ribbon, looking uncharacteristically kempt and tidy. A crisp white shirt peeked out beneath a dark green vest with golden buttons that brought out the flecks of gold in his eyes. He had forgone his yellow tie in favor of a black one that matched his formal sorcerer's robes.

Sofia picked up her notebook and held it out to Cedric.

"Could you hold this for me, please? Corsets don't generally come with pockets."

"I'm not a human pack-mule, you know," he lightly chided her as he tucked it into his robes.

"Of course you aren't. You're my escort!"

Cedric's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "That's hardly appropriate, Princess."

"But more inappropriate would be my sneaking into the ball, this ball in particular, late and unescorted." Sofia's smile was playful and pleading and difficult to resist.

"I already told you, you're not late." Cedric protested half-heartedly, trying to discourage Sofia. She waved a hand in the air dismissively.

"If Baileywick sent you to find me, then I'm already too late for Amber's liking. If I delay any longer, she'll likely flutter her fan at me so hard her wrist will fall off and we can't have a one-handed Queen, now can we?" Sofia hurried to the door and looked back with a too-innocent smile. "Don't let me get into any more trouble than I already am. Please?"

Cedric stared at her for a moment, overtaken by her. How could he deny her? She was right. She required an escort and here he stood. Cedric gave a resigned sigh and followed her to the door, leaving the library together.

Cedric matched Sofia's hurried but graceful pace as they wound through the castle's twisting hallways. Just down the hall from where the ball was being held, Sofia stopped. She looked up at Cedric and he down at her. She quirked an eyebrow imploringly and he sighed, shaking his head as small smirk played across his lips. He held out his hand, palm down to parallel the floor, and felt the weight of Sofia's hand upon his. Cedric curbed his delight at her touch by schooling his thoughts to dull things. Things like the conversations he was likely to endure over the next two hours and forty three minutes until he could escape to keep the Ghostwalk Potion's strict schedule. But he couldn't help but to stand a little straighter with Sofia on his arm.

.

.

Nothing in the ballroom shone quite as brightly as Amber did in her golden gown. Sofia and Cedric had arrived with exactly enough time to be seated at the head table before Amber was announced and entered alone, basking in the attention. The King met her and they opened the ball with the first dance before they, too, seated themselves at the head table to enjoy the feast Amber had painstakingly planned through weeks of trial and error.

Sofia was immensely pleased to be seated beside Cedric for the meal. The conversation between them was light and friendly, often causing Sofia to laugh and Cedric to favor her with an occasional, miniscule curl of his lips that she knew to shelter a hidden grin. He was strikingly handsome, especially tonight. Lithe and dark in robes that made him stand out as different and powerful from the other ordinary men in the room. It seemed that Lucinda's meddling was good for something after all as Sofia was now pleased to feel a distinct lack of blush across her face as she considered her Master in more familiar terms.

Less successful was an exchange Sofia shared with Amber. Thinking she had arrived to the ball with plenty of time, Sofia caught Amber's eyes and smiled. Without a single break in the lilt of her conversation, Amber's eyes had shifted to lock with Sofia's, glared admonishingly, and snapped right back to her conversation. Sofia exhaled a slightly defeated sigh, though she couldn't help but to admire her sister. That kind of social acrobatics were skills Sofia had never come to fully grasp, despite many years of Amber's coaching.

Champagne was being passed around the room. The annunciation was imminent. Cedric ignored his glass, favoring a cup of sweetened coffee instead. He had taken a pocketwatch from his robes to check the time when Sofia gasped.

"The potion!"

Cedric looked up at her quizzically. "What about it?"

"I'm such a clod!"

"Well that's the farthest thing from the truth," he mummered. Sofia swatted his arm.

"How could you let me shirk off potion duty all week? Have you even slept?" She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, careful not to smudge the makeup that had been so carefully applied. "I"m a terrible, terrible clod." She brought the hand to Cedric's forearm. "I'm so sorry, Cedric."

Cedric's hand moved to hers. It encompassed hers and squeezed it with what definitely felt like affection.

"It's fine, Sofia." There was a delightful warmth to his voice. "You've clearly had other things on your mind."

Sofia couldn't help this blush as she pulled her hand away quickly and demurely looked away. In that moment when Cedric said just her bare name she had seen it; that look that Lucinda had described. It made Sofia feel as though she was the only woman in the room, in the world. She was completely overwhelmed to find that it actually existed, like stumbling across a mythological beast in the flesh. It was beyond the concern of teacher for pupil or friend for friend. His look was genuinely worried, full of tenderness, and, dare she think it, loving.

Cedric's mask of propriety had been replaced by the time Sofia looked back to him. He now looked at her evenly, though worry played on the corners of his expression.

"That's no excuse. I'm sorry. I beg you, please accept my apology."

"There's nothing to-"

"And I'll start up tonight. You'll rest and I'll stay up."

"Princess, that's unnec-"

"No arguing. I need to make up for this past week."

"As I was trying to say-"

"So, you should stop drinking that cof-"

"Apprentice," Cedric said sternly enough to stop Sofia but quietly enough not to draw attention. Sofia pressed her lips together, chastened by her subservient title. "Your apology is accepted." Cedric spoke in a hushed, clipped voice. "You will not, however, start this evening, thus robbing me of a perfectly legitimate excuse to escape this ball early. I will expect you in the morning for the seven-twenty-three stir. Understood?"

"One dance." Sofia folded her arms across her chest, but smiled. She had the look of incorrigible determination on her face.

"Excuse me?" Cedric raised an eyebrow at her response.

"That's my fee. For you to leave early instead of me running up to stir the potion and then running back down here, which you would also be perfectly capable of doing, by the way. One dance."

Cedric huffed a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes alright. As long as you don't go on about the potion any longer, you pesky little thing."

Sofia smiled widely, recognizing this particular acerbic tone of her Master's as his more playful one. But there was no time to dwell on the exchange as trumpets sounded in the ballroom. It was time for Amber to officially announce her intentions for the throne and, subsequently, become the most eligible and desirable woman in the Tri-Kingdom area.

.

.

The annunciation went as expected, but the Royals still beamed with pride as Amber handed her mother her tiara. Her father placed a more regal crown on her head. It was only ceremonial for this evening. In the morning, she would return to princess tiaras and remain in them up until the time His Royal Highness King Roland II abdicated to Amber. Which, from the stress Cedric noted that was poorly hidden behind the eyes of the King, might be sooner rather than later.

Cedric watched the ceremony from the head table, attempting not to look too bored while in the public eye. His fingers itched to check his pocket watch to see how much longer he would have to endure this gathering and how much longer he would have to avoid Sofia's dance.

This wasn't the first time she had finagled a dance out of him. Desperate not to be embarrassed, she had begged him to practice with her when she was still a girl. He was not inclined to help her at the time. But, Sofia being Sofia, she had found a way to convince him. He could have never imagined the girl he knew then would become the woman he knew now.

Cedric had stopped seeing her as a member of the fairer sex years ago. He had been so focused on his royal duties, his sought after power, and his role as Master to Sofia's Apprentice that he had come to think of Sofia as just Sofia, the sexually neutral student, and not as Sofia, the woman. This week had changed that. Something about the way she had confessed her gratitude to him after she saved the man in the village and the fact that she had retreated to him when she felt vulnerable the next morning had made him suddenly...aware of her.

Cedric wasn't the only man in the room to notice her. Sofia rarely returned to her seat once the dancing began, constantly being swept from partner to partner. She seemed to be enjoying herself, her laughter genuine. But her eyes were frequently trained back to Cedric. She caught his gaze once and he held her eyes intensely before she broke away, turned back to whatever dance she was twirling. Cedric chided himself admonishingly as he nursed his coffee. Sofia was too good for him. The hunger inside Cedric that yearned for power was not a beautiful, light thing. It wasn't something she would easily understand. It wasn't something he wanted to darken her with, soil her with. It would be better to be alone than to taint Sofia's purity.

Of course, Cedric hadn't been completely alone over the years. Though private, he was no hermit. Fame and strength had brought lovers in and out of his life. They never stayed long. They were only interested in the powerful celebrity and impatient with the actual man. His sardonic tongue and single-minded devotion to his work, even over a pliable woman trying to tempt him back to bed, had marred any potential relationships.

Sofia would give herself completely to whomever she chose. She could never be a blip of a lover. But Cedric believed that's all he could give her, if he had her as a lover at all. He was too dedicated to the drug-like high the power of his magic gave him. She deserved more than that. She was talented and driven, charismatic and beautiful. She deserved to be loved wholly, to be worshiped and cherished. She deserved to be the first priority of whomever held her heart.

Cedric took a slow sip of coffee as he considered it. Could he be that lover?

The answer came in the form of a thrum of yearning for yet more strength, unyielding in its possession.

He couldn't. Not now. Not yet.

His decision made, Cedric felt firm resolve, a painful twinge of disappointment, and grim ownership over the feelings that he had unintentionally harbored for his Apprentice, recently awakened. Now things would surely return to how they had been. Cedric's checked his pocket watch. A mere half hour remained until the potion would require his ministration. That, as far as he was concerned, was close enough to time that he could make an excuse to leave. He stood from the head table, unnoticed as all the other occupants were now either on the dance floor or deeply engrossed in conversation. Cedric moved along the outskirts of the ballroom and stepped out onto the veranda to bypass the crowd of party guests. The night air was crisp, nipping at his face as he walked briskly towards the opposite end of the veranda, intending to slip back into the ballroom much closer to a servant's door where he would be less noticed slinking away.

.

.

A/N:

This was getting long (damn chatty characters) so I cut it short, even though it's a bit abrupt.

As always, thank you for your reviews, follows, and favorites!