Beautiful lay motionless in bed. To Seeker, it was as if the life had drained out of her—her skin pale, the spark in her eyes gone.
When Bright cried at night, she tried to feed him, but he turned away. So, Seeker pressed a little milk into a bowl and fed it to Bright with a tiny spoon. By the time the child finished, and sleep finally tugged at him, Bright stirred again, hungry. Seeker couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept more than an hour at once.
Seeker’s mother came for a week, helping where she could, but soon had to return to the City of Destruction. Not long after, Thoughtful stopped on his way to Vanity, pausing just long enough to meet his new nephew.
“Beautiful, baby,” Seeker urged softly. “Try to get up, walk a little—but slow.” He bent over Bright, stroking his head, “Take care of Mama for me, little one. I have to go back to work—for both of you.”
***
Seeker yawned, rubbing his eyes as he crossed the bridge to the mill. He’d never known exhaustion like this—two weeks without real sleep. He dreaded what would be waiting for him, all the work that must have piled up.
When he reached the mill, she was waiting at the door—a young woman he hadn’t seen before. Sun-browned, raven hair falling in loose waves down her back. A dress that hugged her waist, her shoulders bare. The air around her held clove and orange, pomander-sweet. Seeker blinked. Her emerald eyes met his without a flicker.
“Good morning, Seeker,” she said, voice soft as dawn. “Come with me.”
Seeker blinked. She was already moving, hips swaying with an effortless grace. “I’m Comfort’s sister,” she called back. “Jabal would like to speak to you.”
By the time they reached Jabal’s office, she didn’t bother to knock. She pushed the door open and swept in, Seeker trailing her. “Seeker’s here, like you asked, Dad.” She curtsied low and smiled sweetly—but didn’t leave. Instead, she glided to the couch, sat, hands folded neatly in her lap, and watched them with glittering eyes.
“Ah, yes. Seeker.” His gaze weighed him. He crossed the room, settled beside his daughter and gestured to the empty armchair. “Sit.”
“Cigar?” he said, flipping open a silver case.
Seeker lifted a hand, “No, thank you.”
Jabal snipped the cap with a little cutter, struck a match, toasted the end, took two small draws, and let a thin ribbon of smoke curl upward.
“Tell me, Seeker—how many years have you served me?” It wasn’t really a question. “Comfort says you’re my best worker. And what did I promise? In Desire, those who work hard—”
“Delight,” his daughter corrected, smooth as silk.
“—are handsomely rewarded,” Jabal continued unfazed.
“Yes,” said Seeker, “I have everything I’ve dreamed of.”
“Your talents are wasted here. You have initiative. Drive. I don’t need that on the tread-wheel.”
Seeker only nodded, unsure what to say.
“From this day, you’re foreman. Charm will assist you.”
Charm gave Seeker a gracious smile, “I’m here for you—for anything you need.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Jabal said.
Foreman? No more tread-wheel? Seeker straightened in his chair, then stood. He could hardly believe it—he couldn’t wait to tell Beautiful.
At the threshold, the fragrance of clove still hung in the air.
