Give Me Your Riches: Chapter Nine
The veranda was blessedly empty, the cooler air likely keeping the guests inside. In a few long strides, Cedric had nearly reached his exit when the doors behind him in the center of the veranda opened and Sofia slipped through them, silently closing them behind her. Cedric froze, caught, preparing himself for a lecture on lying and promise making and deal breaking. But Sofia didn't look to him. She rushed to the stone bench in front of her and sat down. She released a long-held, disappointed sigh; her breath visible in the chill night.
Cedric didn't move, partially in an effort not to get caught sneaking away and partially because Sofia's silent form had him transfixed. She seemed so distant from the world around her. He watched as she wrapped her arms around elbows, holding herself. And, as if holding herself just wasn't enough, she leaned forward, her forehead resting against her knees. He watched her upper body rack with one shaking sob before it was too much for him to watch. He was beside her in an instant, a sympathetic hand coming to rest on her shoulder.
Sofia jumped at his touch, unfolding immediately and smoothly wiping a tear away, replacing it with a hasty smile. "Hello," she said with artificial brightness. "I j-just love autumn nights, don't you?"
Cedric gave her a long look. Sofia's smile slowly faded as she wiped away a second stray tear.
"I'm fine. It's fine. It's nothing. I'm just...frustrated."
"With?"
"Nothing." She looked down, smoothing her skirts with her hands. Cedric sat down beside her. A voice in his head immediately screamed at him to stand up and leave. She could take this the wrong way. He could take this the wrong way. Had he not established for himself, not even three minutes ago, that Sofia was his student and nothing, nothing else? But logic was unable to stop him from clasping Sofia's hand in his own and giving it a few comforting pats.
"How much longer until you tell me what's happened, Apprentice?" Cedric asked softly, citing her biddable title to nudge her towards sharing her thoughts and certainly not to remind himself yet again of exactly who she was to him.
Sofia stared down at their hands. Cedric followed her gaze. Her hand looked so small inside of his. She turned ever so slightly into him as the exposed skin on her upper arms and shoulders turned to gooseflesh in the cold. "You're not as dark and brooding as you want people to believe, you know. You are far more kind than you let on," she said, evading his question with a small smile. And he, being the fool he was around Sofia, chased the evasive bait.
Cedric scoffed dismissively. "You're too generous. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable."
"And compassionate and thoughtful and kind."
"Only to those who deserve kindness."
"Oh, I disagree. I think you're kind to most people."
"I am suffering of most people and adept at biting my tongue, a skill honed over decades. I am kind to my mother. To my niece. To you."
Their banter lost its rhythm as their eyes met. Sofia's eyes were glistening with the threat of more tears.
"Cedric, I -" A small, mechanical chime from Cedric's pocket interrupted her. Cedric silently thanked the gods of time and cursed them in the same breath.
"It's ten." He spoke quietly, almost reverent of this moment spent so close to her. "I need to get up to the tower. And you need to get inside before you catch your death in that dress." He got to his feet, drawing Sofia up with him. He disentangled himself from her grip and gave her a quick bow. Before he could turn away, Sofia grabbed his hand again.
"You promised me a dance," she said stubbornly, matching his quietly reverent tone.
"I'll give you the dance once you're ready to tell me happened a week ago." He dropped her hand and turned. She, predictably, followed behind him and grabbed his arm, turning him around again.
"That wasn't our agreement."
"Agreements change, Princess. I thought you would have known that by now. But I really must go." His tone was brisk as he tried to escape.
"Well then I'm coming with you."
Cedric stopped and sputtered. "B-b-but surely you'll be missed? The ball -"
"-is quickly devolving to the same sort of unstructured conviviality it always does. I've done my part. I won't be missed." Sofia walked ahead of Cedric, her quick steps taking her to the door while Cedric stared after her. She stopped at the far door and beckoned him along. "Aren't you coming?"
.
.
Cedric and Sofia fell into long-practiced routine as they entered the tower together. They both abandoned their shoes by the door as they came in. Sofia lined them up neatly beside the wall as Cedric shed his formal robes and exchanged them for a ratty and oft-patched set hanging from a peg near the door. Sofia retrieved her notebook from a pocket in Cedric's now-hanging formal robes and made her way to the study as Cedric moved across the room to his work table. He took up a stirring stick in one hand and held his pocket watch in the other, staring intently at it as he waited for the time to change to 10:23.
Sofia sat beside the hearth of the study's fireplace instead of her chair so she could better capture the light from the flickering flames as she read. Her silvery gown draped around her in an accidental sort of of elegance. She eventually lost track of time, nose down in her notes as she slowly pulled out hairpin after hairpin until her hair fell down loose around her shoulders, She didn't notice Cedric behind her shoulder until he spoke, reading aloud.
"Troll masons known for dark stonework. Lighter stone variety not unheard of, but uncommon?"
Sofia shut her book and placed it in her lap, turning her head to the side so her voice could carry behind her. "It's not polite to eavesdrop."
"Good thing I wasn't eavesdropping." Sofia could hear his smirk.
"You know what I mean, oh irascible one."
"Just for that," he said as he got down to sit beside her on the ground, his back pressing up against his footstool and warming his socked feet beside the fire, "I should have you cleaning out cauldrons for a week."
"Well it's a good thing for me I'm not here in my Apprentice capacity, now isn't it?"
Cedric prodded his finger in the air towards the fire and the wood shifted as though his finger had the same power as a fire poker. "Loophole," he muttered.
"And there's that signature kindness sneaking through again." Sofia grinned. She resituated herself to sit like he was, back pressed up against her own footstool, bare feet resting before the hearth. "How can you even stand it?" she needled.
They didn't speak for a long while, sitting in congenial silence and watching the fire. The warmth lulled Sofia into a drowsy sort of comfort. The flames transformed before her eyes, little birds and butterflies flicking in and out of existence. She didn't need to look at Cedric to know he was the one putting on the show. She could see him in her mind's eye without looking at him; his face relaxed, fingers idly flicking in the air as he brought magic into even the smallest of moments. Just as she started to long for something warm to drink to complete the picture, a mug of mulled cider appeared by her side and she heard one pop into existence beside Cedric, as well. She smiled, cupping the drink with both hands and holding it to her face so she could breathe in the scent of apples drowned in cinnamon, clove, and cardamon with just enough brandy to warm her insides all the way down to her toes. She took an uninhibited sip, knowing Cedric would have conjured it at the perfect temperature, and sighed contentedly as the flavors of autumn mixed in her mouth.
There was an ease here that was only found in long friendships. Sofia found safety from the informal familiarity of it all. The cozy warmth of the study, the subtle spice of her favorite drink, Cedric's comforting presence. A moment like this would turn into a memory Sofia would tuck away and call upon in trying moments, which seemed to be appearing more and more frequently.
And then a staggering thought flew into her mind.
"Could I lose this? Could pursuing Cedric beyond our current bounds run the risk of losing moments like this? Would thinking of him, pursuing him romantically, be a foolish choice? Would it do nothing but mar strongest friendship and bring it to ruin?"
Sofia's heart ached at the thought of it. Her life would be less without him in it. Certainly there was the possibility it would all work out famously. But if there was even the smallest chance of failure, of losing him completely, would it be worth the risk?
"It has something to do with your father," Cedric's voice was low and gentle, breaking Sofia from her thoughts. "You've said that much."
Sofia didn't respond. They both continued to stare into the fire, only moving to take sips of their respective drinks.
Cedric broke the silence again. "An easier question, then. Why did you leave the ball?"
Sofia drummed her fingers against her mug, considering her words before speaking. "It sounds incredibly childish without knowing the entire story."
"By all means then, enlighten me."
She sighed heavily. "I think my father is hiding something from me and I left the ball because he refused to dance with me...to the song we always dance to."
Cedric took a thoughtful sip from his mug. "You're right," he said finally. "It does sound incredibly childish without knowing the entire story."
Sofia turned her head to look at him, affronted. Cedric returned her gaze in mocked bewilderment. "I apologize." He made a show of clearing his throat and began again. "How dreadful. What a terrible story." His words dripped with sarcasm.
Sofia rolled her eyes, but finally found the nerve to tell Cedric her story.
"The day before I started the Ghostwalk Potion, I was in the older gardens collecting ingredients. I came across this strange old well. When I asked Baileywick about it after dinner, my father became extremely angry. He apologized a couple days later, but forbade me from going back there again. Things have been strained between us since." Sofia paused, anxiety creasing her brow. "Something about the well set him off, I'm sure of it. But he won't talk to me - won't even look at me. So...I've been researching."
Sofia flicked her fingers at the fire, distractedly trying to mimic Cedric's birds and butterflies. She only succeeded at softening the fire to near embers, the flame resistant to her magical touch. She frowned. "A week of work has yielded practically nothing I didn't already know and my gut screaming at me that something is wrong. It could be nothing. I could just be making this up to be something far bigger than it is. But I haven't been sleeping well. My intuition says something is off."
"Trust your intuition, Sofia." A bare wave of Cedric's hand and the fire came returned to life, the crackling now sounding less merry and more menacing to Sofia's ears. "Your intuition tends to be eerily spot-on when it comes to people, though I regret to see it put you through so much angst."
"It's causing all these horrible images to run through my head about my father, and he's not helping by being so evasive. I can barely stand it." Sofia ran her free hand up her arm, trying to find some comfort for herself.
Cedric nodded knowingly. "It's difficult to see your father as just a man, imperfect and sometimes inadequate. Fathers seem...flawless. Men, less so."
Sofia shifted her position, folding her legs under her and leaning in towards Cedric. She put down her mug and clutched her notebook in one hand. "The strangest part so far has been the lack of information about the construction of the well. You should see the meticulous records in the library. They tracked everything - every fireplace, every gazebo, every repaired step. Someone, the builder I'm assuming, recorded what kind of stone was used and where the materials came from and the cost..."
"That doesn't sound strange at all."
Sofia leaned in closer as if she was divulging a secret. "The well has a date. That's it. And it falls during my grandfather's reign."
"I suppose that does lend itself to...intrigue." Cedric sounded reluctant, as if agreeing with her would encourage her in all the worst ways.
"What do you remember about my Grandfather?"
"About Roland the First? I barely met the man. Boarding at Hexley, remember?"
"Well, what about your parents?"
"You would have to ask them," Cedric shrugged.
"Why don't we! It's been ages since I've seen them, which means it's been even longer since you've seen them." Sofia got to her feet as if to leave immediately. She desperately wanted something to ease the twisting in her gut that had taken residence there. It was entirely possible that that Goodwin the Great would be filled with the exact knowledge that would help to quell her intuition of something being not quite right.
"Slow down, Sofia." Cedric held his hands out as though he was trying to sooth a wild horse. "It's late. We can't leave until morning."
"So you'll go?"
"If you sit back down," he coaxed. "Tell me about this well you found."
But Sofia couldn't possibly sit. She started to pace, her thumb running across the spine of her notebook over and over again; a new nervous habit. She trod on her skirt with every fifth stride or so, the length of the gown was not accommodating to her barefooted height.
"It's enchanted, that's for certain. It's in this abandoned square of the hedgerows, overgrown and easily twice my height. There's a gate that someone built a wall in front of, by hand, not magic. And that wall isn't anywhere in the records. The well has this dilapidated little roof built above it and it spoke with this eerie voice and I remembered. Amber turned me into a cat when I was nine by wishing on a well and it must have been that well because I remembered that little courtyard."
"Hold on a moment - Amber turned you into a cat?"
"You don't remember?" Sofia paused, cocking her head to the side; her rambling recollection pausing in favor of this new train of thought. "The first thing I did was come up to your tower to try and get you to turn me back into a person. You can't tell me you don't remember a purple cat who opened your spellbook to ask to be turned into a human."
"I faintly recall shooing a surprisingly pushy purple cat from my tower." He tapped a finger on his chin and spoke in a dry, jesting tone. "Do you think you could possibly explain to me why I have no shock at this new knowledge that you and that cat are one and the same?"
Sofia fixed him with a flat look that resembled one of his own. Cedric was unable to conceal the twitch of a smirk on his lips in response. Sofia crossed her arms.
"Now what's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. It's simply that in the wide array of positive adjectives that describe you, there are some that, while synonymous, have a very different meaning in different applications." Cedric's rhythm fell naturally into the one he reserved for his lectures. Sofia listened, her expression mildly amused. "For example: you have achieved the admirable quality, in your hereditary position, of being commanding. However, on the other side of that same coin, you do have the less endearing quality of being rather pushy when you're after something."
Sofia's mouth briefly gaped open, resenting his description, before she snapped her mouth shut and lifted her chin. "Fine."
"Fine?" Cedric stared up at Sofia as she did a rather impressive job at lording over him. He still sat leaning against the footstool. He quirked a curious eyebrow and Sofia felt her stomach somersault before she ordered it back to stillness.
"Fine," she said with even greater emphasis on the word. "Stand up."
"Why? What are you doing?" he asked, his words entwined with mild suspicion.
"I'm being commanding. Or pushy. Whichever you'd rather tell yourself." Sofia fixed him with her most princess-polished stare of authority.
Cedric chuckled and put down his mug before getting to his feet. "Alright, then. Now what, Your Oh-Most-Royal Highness?"
"You owe me a dance. Or did you think you'd get away without it?" She set her notebook down atop the seat of her armchair. Cedric crossed his arms and shook his head slightly, his smirk still present and inexplicably drawing Sofia closer to him, inch by inch. All of her worry about the strength of their friendship faltering in the face of her romantic feelings quickly trickled away as she stared up at that smirk. His confidence, his sardonic teasing, the way a few strands of his hair had fallen out of their tie at the nape of his neck. All these things and more were sending flutters to her chest and a heat to her belly. Acknowledging these feelings to herself with such firmness, instead of disparaging and pushing them away, was giving her the courage to stay the course she had started. Even when she knew Cedric would deftly deter her.
"You changed the terms of our bargain when you followed me up here, Princess."
"I disagree. The terms were that I would be here in the morning for the seven twenty-three stir and that I would not rob you of the opportunity to leave the ball early." Sofia slowly advanced towards him as she spoke, shortening the distance between them to just two steps. "It seems to me that the conditions of the bargain have been met, except for my being here in the morning, though I assure you that I will be."
"There was a caveat at the end that you're forgetting. You weren't to go on about the potion any longer."
"Insubstantial. I mentioned it as a reference point in the story of the rift between me and my father and just now to assure you that I would be here in the morning to tend to it." She sounded like a student presenting a thesis to her teacher. Sofia bit her lip, hoping that she hadn't taken one step forward in pushing for the dance just to take two steps back in using the tone of Sofia the Apprentice instead of just Sofia. A Sofia who just wanted Cedric to see her as something more.
His eyes narrowed as he considered her argument. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"
"Nope." Her face was smug, though she was holding back a desire to jump up and down.
"Well...there's no music."
"You are a sorcerer, aren't you?" She teased.
Cedric held her eyes for a long moment. Then, he drew his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the gramophone in the corner. A waltz began to creak out of the bell, the sound of the piano soft and scratchy. Sofia reached into a pocket of her gown and withdrew her own wand. She pointed it at the gramophone and the music changed. The piano was joined by a swell of violin and cello, flute and clarinet; the sound shifting from something distantly recorded to the sound of a live tiny orchestra somehow playing from within the gramophone.
Cedric quirked an impressed eyebrow at Sofia's improvised spellwork and she beamed at his approval. They vanished their wands in unison. Before she could risk him changing his mind, Sofia took a step forward and closed the gap between them. She took Cedric's right hand and placed it on her waist. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and took his left hand in her right hand. She thought that his posture felt especially stiff, but she dismissed it. It was easier to credit stiff posture to the nature of a waltz than to think on any other causes. Sofia could feel the warmth of his palm through the fabric at her waist. Before she had the chance to reflect on how that made her feel, that same palm applied just enough pressure to warn her that they were about to move.
Sofia was surprised. The last time she had convinced Cedric to dance with her when she was still just a girl, Cedric was barely a step above having two left feet. Things had changed. Cedric moved with an elegance that Sofia had come to associate with his spell-casting. He was smooth, assured, and composed, moving her about the room with discipline and grace. And he didn't just hold her in his arms, completing the simplest obligations the waltz called for. He was spinning her out and away from him before catching her free hand and drawing her back in. Sofia arched her neck to the side, leaning into the spin as was traditional, and straightened to find his eyes locked onto hers. His eyes were...softer. Oh, his face was as stoic as it ever was, but there was pleasure and warmth there, no longer hidden below but blatantly on the surface.
They turned around the room again and again, keeping perfect time with the music. It was only after a few minutes that Sofia realized that the study was exceptionally full of furniture for the two of them not to have bumped into anything by now. For that matter, she should have stepped on her skirts by now, too. She reluctantly broke her gaze away from Cedric's, looked around, and exhaled an astonished "Oh!"
They were floating six feet in the air, their steps tracing across empty space. She giggled, enchanted by the magic of it all and when she found Cedric's eyes again. He was smiling. The expression was slightly foreign on his face but not unwelcome. It made him more handsome, bringing out the glints of gold in his eyes and the tiniest laugh lines around the corners of his lips.
The music crescendoed and Cedric dropped both his hands to Sofia's waist to lift her into the air, her skirts flowing behind her, as he sent her spinning around the room. They laughed together as he brought her back into his arms. He stopped spinning, changing instead to slower turns about the room with Sofia held warmly in his arms. His hold was different now. Closer. More familiar.
The distance between them disappeared. They were inappropriately close for a waltz, or any courtly dance for that matter, but Sofia couldn't bring herself to care. She was happy here with Cedric. And that happiness wasn't from academic praise for her wand motion or potion ingredient preparation. It was simple pleasure. He was happy, too. It was undeniable. His magic lifting them up revealed feelings that couldn't be, and wouldn't be, ignored. Sofia drank in his gaze, thirsty for the joy he was emanating, joy that had something, anything to do with her. He turned her out slowly and pulled her back in even closer, his legs practically buried in the bulk of her skirts. His hand felt as though it had found a comfortable home at the small of her back. Sofia felt breathless, and not just from dancing. She spoke,
"This is -"
"Amazing? Incredible? Dream-like? Something I wish would never end? Hold me like this always, please?" Words in Sofia's mind bubbled over and she struggled to choose the right ones.
"- better than I could have imagined."
Just as the words left her lips, they lurched down a foot in the air. It was as if reality abruptly caught up with Cedric, causing him to falter. Sofia clung to him, startled, before they both acclimated to the new height and moved to finish the dance. But when they stepped out again, Cedric had adjusted his hold, stiffening to where his arms had been at the beginning of the waltz. The hold wasn't quite sterile, but it certainly wasn't as intimate as it had been only seconds before. The music wound down to a soft finale and it was only a few more seconds before both pairs of feet landed lightly on the ground. Cedric gave Sofia a formal bow, to which she returned a slightly bemused curtsey.
"You should go," he said, his breathing rapid, like hers, from the athleticism of the dance. His face was smooth and almost blank, his emotions back behind his mask.
"After just one dance?" She panted out with a hopeful smile, her hand unconsciously pressed against her chest to try and calm her galloping heart.
"You should rest," he said, deflecting her request. "It's late. Morning is practically upon us and you and I made a deal." His tone brokered no play. Sofia blinked a few times in quick succession, barely able to keep up with the sudden change in mood. Unlike the previous week, Cedric wasn't being rude or unkind, but he was definitely sending her away. That waltz was incredible. Fun but profound, jovial but important. Years in the making and so, so precious. Was it possible he didn't weigh it with the same importance that she did?
It wasn't until she felt the tips of Cedric's fingers barely touching her shoulders to turn her to the stairs that she realized she had been truly dismissed. She didn't really remember walking up the steps of the study to the main floor, or Cedric handing over her little notebook and her shoes.
What she did remember was the way Cedric held the door slightly ajar after she had stepped into the hallway and said, in a voice barely above a murmur, " goodnight...Sofia" before the door shut tightly behind her.
Sofia's breath caught to hear him say her name. The delivery was so personal, so quietly warm. She smiled and rather dreamily meandered to her rooms, still a little befuddled but too caught up in the memory of the dance to really care.
.
.
A/N: Hellooooooo again! First off - THANK YOU! Thank you for your patience with me as I slowly got back to this story. It has my full writing attention and I'm excited to get the ball rolling again. I have the next five chapters well outlined (assuming the characters don't get too chatty. If they do, I might have the next six or seven chapters well outlined...). The climax of Riches came to me in a flash today and I'm *very* excited about it. At this point, I'm thinking this story will hit somewhere around 20 chapters, but I'm letting the characters take the lead which, for me, means having a very flexible plan. So we shall see. :)
Thank you for sticking with me!
And, as always, here is my author's plea for reviews: even the tiniest, single-worded review is meaningful. If I didn't want the satisfaction of hearing from you, the reader, I would never publish my work. And, let's be honest, with my theatre background, I sort of sustain my life on applause. Please feed the writer! Thank you taking the time out of your day to read my work!