When Beautiful woke, the sky was still dark, a faint silver glow brushing the edge of the horizon. She lit a candle and stared into the mirror. Carefully, she brushed her hair, coaxing the curls back in place. One night of sleep and her hair was as wild as Miss Cheerful’s. Well, maybe not that bad.
She didn’t want to wear the same dress again—but she didn’t have many. It wasn’t about impressing Seeker. She just needed something good for exploring ruins.
When did Seeker eat breakfast? She wasn’t sure. Better to get there early—just in case.
She set two places. One for her—and one right beside it. As she waited, the thought struck her. Two plates? What was she thinking? He’d know she’d been waiting for him. She reached to whisk one away—and froze as he stepped into the doorway.
“Good morning, baby,” she said, trying not to glance at the second plate. She eyed the day-old bread. “It’s not apples, but it’ll have to do.” She felt very clever at her private joke.
He sat down in front of the second plate. So—he noticed. Oh well. His hand drifted to hers.
“Not here, I said!” Maybe she should let him—she still remembered how his hand felt in the dream. But she pulled hers away anyway.
“What is it you do in that tower, Seeker?” she said, keeping her voice light. Not light enough. Too eager. He’d be suspicious for sure.
He picked up on it—of course he did. She’d just let it slip that she’d noticed him before. She scrambled to cover. “Everyone knows, little baby.” She threw in little to make it sound less… endearing.
“Come and see, baby,” he teased.
How dare he call her baby? “Don’t call me baby!”
