Bake

Stronger// Kelly Clarkson

When I wake, the bright light of the moon filters into the room. Once I'd soaked in the warm bath last night, I burrowed under the cozy covers and slept hard, not bothering to check the view from this room. I blink my eyes to adjust to the light, noticing the full moon taking up the entirety of the window frame. The yellow light casts a warm glow within the room. Similar to daylight, this light fills the entire space. The tapestries on the wall nearly sparkle from the glow, all of the wood trim around the room carrying its reflection.

I lay a while longer in the bed, not wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of the little cocoon I've created in the bedding. It's soft, softer than any bed I've ever had. I wrap myself in the coverlet, the essence of fresh flowers tickling my senses. Moving out of my current position would bring reality rushing back. I'm not ready to remember the truths I learned, and the lies that were revealed.

Turning over, I take the coverlet with me, pulling it over my head and blocking out the light. If I go back to sleep I won't have to think of any of this. I won't have to remember the look in Nicandros' eyes when I dismissed him. Or the sound of his voice as he called me by name.

Lissa...

I shove the coverlet off of my head and sit up in a fit of frustration. Nothing has gone the way I expected. None of the answers I sought have been made clear, rather more questions have plagued me the longer I'm here. Perhaps leaving is the answer. Perhaps I should find my way back home and try to forget. Back to baking my life away in the kitchen of the Charmed Crust.

Charmed. I scoff at the word. The kitchen is more cursed than charmed.

Reluctantly, I rise from the bed. Not having anything else to wear, to bed or otherwise, I wore the black servant dress to sleep in. I smooth down my skirts and move into the bathing chamber to splash cool water on my face. Although I'm more rested than I've been, I still only feel half conscious. The water helps, but not enough.

I turn from the bathing room taking stock of my new surroundings. It's a simple room, the furnishings lacking the type of opulence one would expect in the dwelling of a Master of the realm. I run my hand along the painted walls, noting how smooth the surface is. The white walls are as they were in the cell, but this white has a shimmer, something causing them to glow in the moonlight. I lift my eyes to the large-paned window on the wall opposite from the bed. As I approach, I wonder what view it will have. Will the drop from this room be as severe as the one from my first night in the dwelling?

I am not prepared for the view awaiting me.

No endless, bottomless drop. Instead I am greeted with the moonlit view of a garden. Roses of every color are planted in a spiraling pattern. The bright moon sheds enough light for me to make out the edge of a fountain at the spiral's center. The glass muffles the trickling sound of water; hardly loud enough to be recognizable. I stand at the window and gaze, pretending to be anywhere but this dwelling. Pretending I am in a fine house in our village, looking over its courtyard. Or even in the house of Mrs. Naimer, a woman I would never seek out willingly. But the devil you know is preferable to the devil you don't.

And yet, I find myself wondering what else can be found among the tendrils of power in this place. What else can I learn of this unknowable devil?

My musings are interrupted when I notice a presence in the garden. Movement catches my attention near the fountain as someone who must have been sitting, blocked by the surrounding rose bushes, suddenly stands. A man, dark hair and equally dark coat towers over the fountain, observing the flow of water with his back to me. But I know who it is. Nicandros. Right there, out in the garden below my window.

I am taken back to the night of the party when I spent more time with Nicandros in Mrs. Naimer's garden then I dared to. I recall the darkness in his eyes, and how for a moment he succeeded in pushing the darkness away.

Watching him now, without his knowledge that my eyes are on him, I see something in him I hadn't seen before. The slope of his shoulders, the angle of his head as he watches the water, the wistful way his hand presses into his side pocket, then retreats, then presses once again...his mannerisms are so much more the Drue of my memories than the Nicandros of the village. My heart fills, bursts with emotion, ignoring my rational mind, which tells me he is not to be trusted. But as I look down upon this man reminding me of Drue, I can no longer listen to my reasoning. I can no longer push him away.

Because I have missed Drue with my entire being.

I reach out to the glass, resting my hand over his image as my heart races. I need him. Now that he stands before me, I can accept how deeply this is true. I need him as I need breath. I've missed him more than I've let myself believe. Longing, to the point of pain, to be near Drue once again. To know, now, that I had him so near, that I held him as we danced during the party...and yet not to have recognized Drue hidden within the arrogance of the Lord I loathed. I remember the sadness in Nicandros' eyes, only for a moment, but it was there. I don't understand why he came to me as two different sides of the same coin, but I can't deny the depth of the need I have for him any longer.

My voice must decide before I do, because his name is on my tongue, between my lips, the very air I am breathing. As if some force draws us together, at the very moment his name leaves my lips, I watch him turn. His eyes find mine, as though he heard my plea. He steps toward me, eyes cast up to where I watch through the window. It's only one step, but it means everything. While still so far below, wrapped somewhere within the spiraling roses, he says my name.

"Lissa..."

And I hear him. I hear him in my very soul. My eyes flutter closed as the tears fall, my hand still resting on the glass. I take a deep breath, not knowing what to do next, and open my eyes to look upon him once again. Even from this distance I can see the longing in his gaze, the worry, the apology.

I say his name again.

"Drue..."

And he moves, stepping over and around the roses with purpose and conviction. His determination causes my breath to catch, my hand covering my heart. I step away from the window and turn, running to the door. I reach a hand to the knob then pause.

Am I allowed to leave? Have I been locked in once again? Will he come here to me or should I seek him out?

I realize I have no way to locate him, not knowing the layout of the dwelling. I have no idea how to find the garden.

Without answers, I turn the knob and find it still unlocked. I open the door then take a step back into the room.

Because Nicandros is standing on the other side.

Silently, we gaze upon one another. I take him in with new eyes. He is new, not the Nicandros from the town, nor is he the Drue from the village. He is both. Does he see a new me as well now that I know of this place?

We regard each other, neither saying a word. The energy in our eyes is strong, another force I feel as a physical thing to be seen and touched. I notice his fingers flex and reach toward me, but I am not yet ready.

"There is a garden here," I say instead, breaking the trance we have both been under. Nicandros withdraws his hand immediately. He hesitates before answering, taking in my change of demeanor. Do I spy disappointment in his countenance?

"Yes. Would you like to see it?" His tone is soft, gentle. Much like the Drue I remember. But now I realize I don't have a clue what to call him? Both names seem...wrong.

"Fine. That would be fine." My voice is not smooth like his. I am flustered by his presence, but that has always been the case, in either form I've known him.

The man before me offers his arm, which I take with caution. The feelings stirring in me are so strong they take my breath away. Have I always responded thus to his touch? As I think back to our time in the woods, our walks in the town, the time he spent in my bakery, I realize that I have.

"Drue," he says suddenly as we descend a staircase leading to a foyer. "My given name is Nicandros. But those I care about—" he pauses to look down at our joined arms, "call me Drue."

I nod. He has always had the ability to know my thoughts, it seems. This has not changed.

Do you trust Drue? Or is he up to something sinister? I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?

Stronger is a powerful song. I don't see Daralis as becoming stronger due to heartbreak from Drue. I feel like her entire life has been "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and now she's going to be able to use that strength for a positive result. Fingers crossed at least!

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

Thank you for reading!