Page 68 of Sugar & Sorcery
“The cursed apple of the original tree has chosen you. You are precious. The boy who survived sucremort. From now on, you will be a son to me, and your human heart will belong to me.”
22
A heart untended begins to ache, and magic, like the heart, answers only when it is heard.
ARAWN
“Still here, Master?” Yeun entered the chamber, his human form betraying only faint traces of his true nature. A steaming cup of tea rested between his fingers.
“Why do you pretend to be human?” I growled, finishing the last sugarplum I had stolen from Lempicka’s kitchen.
“Mademoiselle Lempicka prefers this appearance. It is how she first knew me.”
He moved toward the bedside table to set down the tea, but stopped short. There was no room left. Three potions, a glass of water, and a warming charm already crowded the surface, remnants of my frantic efforts. I had no skill for handling such situations. I’d been forced to dig through my library, scour obscure texts on human fevers, even consult a confectioner’s chapter on caring for the sucre d'or.
All of this before devouring the sugarplums to calm myself. Perhaps it was effective, but swallowing too many at once had only worsened my state. I felt as though I were about to split apart, as if my heart were shackled and something inside me was tugging the chains—like a puppet dangling from invisible strings. It was not the same as when Zelda bent me with her manipulation.
“Well, it seems my help is superfluous,” Yeun sighed theatrically before sipping from his own tea.
His gaze weighed on me, heavy with unspoken thoughts. It was true I had not left this chair in far too long. The two Cursed slept peacefully, while her black lamb, unwilling to share the same room with me, stood guard on the balcony, casting icy looks through the window. Lempicka burned with fever, though her body was strangely cold.
“She is completely sealed inside her crystallization. Just like the first time I found her. It’s like an impenetrable defense. Even for me.”
“Mademoiselle Lempicka is strong. She will recover from this fever,” Yeun said, pouring another cup of tea before offering it to my reluctant hands. “And I am certain she will appreciate that you remained by her side all night.”
I set the cup on the dresser with a sharp gesture and stood abruptly. “Then I should leave.”
It was the last thing I wanted. For her to know. For her to appreciate it. Since the lake, something foreign had awakened inside my monstrous heart.
“I think it is far too late for that,” Yeun replied with a sly smile. “Mademoiselle Lempicka already cares for you. Why else would she have defied your Spirits to save your wretched life… and ours?”
I paced. “Define ‘caring for someone,’ Yeun.”
“Caring,” he mused, sipping his tea, “is to feel warmth in someone’s presence. To want to spend time with them. Or simply to desire their happiness.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not necessarily a good thing, then. Attachment comes from selfishness. From the desire to possess someone.”
My thoughts drifted, briefly, to Zelda. She too cared for me. Enough to waste her days trying to drag me back. Yet her sentiment had never unsettled me the way Lempicka’s presence did.
I cast a glance toward the bed. “I could cast another spell. Perhaps one to?—”
“Stop with your spells! You are impatient,” Yeun cut me off, his tone uncharacteristically sharp. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you fear for Mademoiselle Lempicka’s life. Or worse, that you care for her as well.”
I laughed. “She is stubborn. She smiles in the worst moments. Gifted, yes, but gnawed by doubt. And she does not even care for her own life! She trusts everyone, with a heart far too small for all she gives. I don’t know if it’s because she is weak and foolish or stronger than is good for her.”
Yeun flushed pink, then deep crimson. “Do you remember what happened before you awoke in the lake?”
I frowned. I remembered something. A thorn driven into one of my hearts—or perhaps both, given the pain’s intensity. I recalled Lempicka’s face, that strange sensation of breathing after holding my breath too long.
I had thought perhaps I had kissed her. But why would I have done that? It had surely been nothing more than a dream. An illusion. And why would a kiss feel like that? It had never struck me so before.
“No. When I opened my eyes, she was sinking at the bottom of the lake,” I lied, for admitting the truth would only give Yeun endless ammunition for mockery.
I leaned toward the confectioner, pulling back the blanket I had draped over her. My throat tightened as I gently shifted the neckline of her dress to reveal her shoulder. The black lamb slammed its horn against the glass, while Yeun coughed loudly.
“Some might consider that indecent, Master,” he remarked, one amused brow raised.
I blinked, caught off guard. “It’s not… it’s not…”
