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eighteen

Heart’s Delight

T he silvery orange faerie tale pumpkin made a handsome dress shop.

Its frontage was carved out to form a series of diamond paned arched windows.

The double door entrance was a lovely robin’s egg blue.

Heather adored it. The square was a far cry from the make-shift temporary market stalls of the human realm.

Upon entering, Heather overheard a female with prismatic dragonfly wings conversing with another faerie. She had golden dew drop flowers entwined in her dark hair. The lilac gown she wore was lovely against the bronze of her skin.

“And I told her to end the evening at the stroke of midnight, or else the glamour would fail! She barely made it home before she was discovered in those scraps her stepmother calls clothes.” The faerie dressmaker’s voice rose with excitement.

“If it weren’t for the slipper she left behind, the prince wouldn’t have tracked her down.

A slipper! Can you believe it? Males!” The faerie threw up her hands in exacerbation.

“If my bonded couldn’t find me in a crowd without the help of a shoe, we’d mix words, I assure you.

” She huffed as she walked around the storefront and tidied items.

Fabric samples of every color imaginable lined the curved wall. Dress forms featured complete gowns with elaborate embroidery and finishes on circular pedestals throughout the interior, finery fit for royalty.

Heather and Skye perused arm in arm, catching the storekeep’s notice.

“Welcome, welcome in. To whom do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Skye Ashwoode?” The female asked as she curtsied, her attention fixed on Heather.

Skye bowed back, “Lady Enisa this is Lady Thistleby. Heather- this is our realm’s renown glamour weaver.”

Heather matched Enisa’s curtsy with her own. Fellow patrons became onlookers as they caught wind of the name Ashwoode.

“No wings. How old is she?” A bystander snickered under their breath.

“Is that a human?” another pixie whispered.

Skye growled pointedly in the speaker’s direction.

The offending female shrunk into herself, her head down as she swiftly exited the shop.

“Would you perhaps be browsing for a ribbon ceremony?” Enisa inquired, raising a single brow in question as she observed Skye and Heather’s joined hands.

Heather once again felt like a fish out of water- ribbon ceremony?

Did they hold ceremonies to make a wish?

She'd figure it out. Or she would eventually drag the secret out of the male. Heather wasn’t sure how to answer, so she peered up at Skye for guidance.

Feelings of joyful freedom from earlier were slipping from her grasp, her stomach beginning to knot.

The bystanders revealed themselves in having a lot in common with the human court.

Heather twisted her wrist, as if intending to pull her hand free from his.

“I think we may be ordering something for that occasion, sooner than later.” Skye tightened his hold on her, not allowing Heather to withdraw.

He raised their joined hands to his lips, placing a kiss on the back.

Leaving another shimmering green mark inked on her ivory flesh.

Gasps filled the room from the perusers, who were obviously listening in on their conversation.

Skye and Aster garnered attention wherever they were, further rousing Heather’s suspicions their family was of importance in faerie.

Enisa’s wings fluttered rapidly.

“I’d be honored to dress Lady Heather,” her hand clutched her chest, over her heart.

“Congratulations are in order! Faerie wine for everyone! Lady Heather, please make your way over to the looking glass,” the female gestured to the largest mirror Heather had ever seen.

She supposed it had once been a wealthy ladies most prized possession.

Yet, here it was propped up on the wall, its gilded edge surrounded by cream and blush roses.

Heather examined herself in its reflection. “How does one weave a glamour?” Enisa stood behind her as they gazed at their reflection.

“Well, perhaps it’d be best if I show you,” replied Enisa.

Aquamarine specks of magick flickered above Enisa’s head, circling clockwise and doubling in size, before entwining themselves like a vine…

or a weave of thread. Her magick reminded Heather of delicate spider web tendrils.

There was a burst of brighter light as the enchantment moved over Enisa’s hair, slowly changing it from onyx to a dusky mint green.

Heather gasped, “How lovely!” The hair and the charm itself were something to behold.

“Alter something about me!” She grasped her skirt in excitement.

The knot in her midsection easing. Enisa’s ethereal magick swirled her form as she viewed herself in the looking glass, waiting for a transformation.

The glow dissipated, revealing wings!

Beautiful green and white moth wings, just like Skye’s!

Upon closer inspection, she noted Enisa had given her arched faerie ears.

She twisted and turned in the mirror for a better angle. The changes looked incredibly realistic. She tried to flutter the wings…but nothing happened.

“You’ll find that you can see the glamour, but the wings are merely an apparition. You won’t be able to fly. That’s why I specialize in gowns and accessories. Those glamours are more believable. I twine make-believe with reality.”

With a wave, the changes Enisa wove onto Heather evaporated from view.

“How about this gown?” asked Heather, gesturing to the one she wore.

Enisa smoothed her hand over Heather’s cream and sage skirt. “This gown is very fine already, but it could use a little something.” Enisa tapped her chin in thought, “Ah, I know just the thing!”

Enisa’s magick surrounded Heather once again. Green ivy vines and leaves twined on the outer dress lapel of the bodice and on the bell sleeves and hem. As if they were being embroidered with an invisible hand.

“Ivy is a symbol of everlasting devotion. What could be more fitting for my blessing for you and our dear Skye?” Enisa looked to Heather’s wish ribbon Ella weaved in her hair earlier, in consideration.

“I think it needs a bit of color, don’t you?” She smiled. With a wave, pink moon flowers joined the ivy on the dress. “Moon flowers represent beauty’s ability to emerge in the darkest of times, perfect for a night flier moth,” whispered Enisa.

Millie, the dressing assistant, offered Heather a lily of the valley bud. The faeries were sipping out of them as if they were goblets.

“I wish to commission a gown for Heather to wear to the Flower Fete,” said Skye as he approached the left of the mirror.

Enisa clapped her hands and clasped them in her excitement. “I know just the dress to make for you, dear! Your light will rival the moon.”

Heather gazed into the mirror, her eyes catching with Skye’s. She smiled at the portrait they made, outlined by the gilded frame. The image seared into the seams of her heart.

Aster tugged Heather down the cobblestone lane, from the doorway of the dress shop to the bakery.

“Ye must try the cloud sugar floss,” insisted Aster.

The bakery was in a white discarded flour canister, Heather could make out the faint blue script that read FLOUR above the arched door.

The roof was shaped similarly to a mushroom cap, but it was a blue matching the inscription on the front stoop, both Aegean Blue.

On the very top was a knob converted to a chimney flue.

She found the ivy creeping up the side of the mercantile charming.

It was the sort of place she could see herself working the daylight hours away, happily.

Aster released her arm, rushing forward into the shop.

Once Heather entered the confectionery, sugar pervaded the air so strongly she could taste it on her tongue.

Fresh bread, vanilla, jasmine and cinnamon wafted from the hearths in the back.

The twinging ivy had grown into the bakery hall, twinned up the walls and spread onto the tabled displays of baked goods.

To Heather’s amazement, all the delicacies were produced in varying shades of rose, ranging from the palest of blushes to the deepest magenta.

Choosing which sweet treat to indulge with was going to be a tough decision, indeed.

Pink meadowsweet swirled dollops of mousse were arranged inside of white lily blooms. Cookies the size of a dinner plate, molded into rose pink swans, caught her eye.

The baker had brushed the swans with a sugar glaze, giving them a shimmering effect.

There was another table dedicated to breads fashioned into flora and fauna in all hues of pink.

She decided she preferred the butterfly shaped pastries as she marveled at the baker’s skill.

Aster was standing at a display near the back wall, the table covered in a mysterious fluffy pink cloud. Curious, Heather joined Aster at the table. Gossamer threads, a soft whisper of pink, were twined together, appearing as weightless puffs on sticks.

“They certainly look like clouds,” stated Heather.

“It’s flavored sugar,” replied Aster.

Heather breathed deep. The clouds were swathed in vanilla.

The bakery smelled delicious, but her stomach was beginning to knot, to her dismay.

She held her hand over her midsection as if to calm it.

None of this is poisoned, she reminded herself, hoping to enjoy everything this market had to offer.

Would there ever be a day where she could simply eat without these wary feelings?

She wandered further into the displays, pausing at a table featuring a delicacy unknown to her.

The arrangement of confections was most striking with the mystery dessert arranged in ascending round trays, the largest on the bottom.

The treats ranged from the darkest of pink to the lightest at the top.

Formed from two rounded pieces of baked dough, a bit larger than a gold coin, united together by a creme in the middle.

Skye took notice of what interested Heather and strode to accompany her by the table side.

“Have you had these before? They’re popular in a neighboring kingdom.

They call them Macarons.” He plucked a pale pink dessert from the upper tray and held it up, an offering for her to take a bite.

She didn’t need any further encouragement.

Heather sunk her teeth into the airy, delicate treat.

It was crispy on the outside, yet chewy in the center.

Flavorful raspberry flooded her taste buds.

“They’re surprisingly not as overly sweet as they look. It’s become one of my favored.” Skye informed her. She agreed wholeheartedly as she devoured the remainder.

“I spent most of my days in the royal kitchens, but not as much in the bakery as I would have liked. I wonder how they make these. Mayhap I could bake them? Especially since they are a favored of yours,” she said, smiling up at him. A wide smile brushed across his lips.

“We’ll have to ask for the recipe before we depart. What else would ye like to taste?”

“Aster showed me the Cloud Floss? Have you tried it?” she asked.

“Ah, her new craving. Yes, ye need to.” Skye led the way toward the confectionery clouds.

He picked up a stick with the treat and held it out to her, expecting her to eat directly from his hand.

His wings twitched, rising from where they previously lay relaxed on his back.

He certainly did enjoy feeding her, she mused.

The cloud dissolved on her lips, the sweet vanilla sugar coating her tongue. Her eyes widened, never having tasted anything so pure before. Sugar in the human realm was a scarce commodity, its creation arduous, costly and coarse in texture. How did faerie produce sugar as fine as clouds?

“Mmmm.” She couldn’t keep the moan from escaping her lips. Skye’s wings sparked alight, glowing softly.

A pixie approached wearing an apron, his eyes on Skye, looking like they wanted to gobble him up. Before the assistant baker could utter a word, Skye addressed him saying, “We’ll take one of everything.”