It gave Corinthia time to finally get a look at what Rosemary was wearing: a snug, short, curve-fitting dress of ruched blue and silver-gray silk, snazzy as a cocktail dress, with a matching cape that reached to the hem of the dress.Corinthia willingly played the game of finding the jewels that always embellished Rosemary’s outfits.Where were they?At the clasp of the cape, setting off the outfit to perfection.
To stand there, in her best jacket and hat, next to this angelic person, made Corinthia feel like she was on the way to the prom.Instead of balloon arches there were twisting oak branches; instead of a photo backdrop there was a bower of lyonia shrubs.Fireflies lit the pine straw dance floor and crickets and frogs served as disc jockeys.
It struck Corinthia that though a bird may never have been to a school dance, Corinthia really hadn’t either, not in the way she had wanted to; not with a girl.Times were different, then.
They would step out together, forest prom queens at last.
Rosemary’s quick and graceful fingers plucked a bon bon from the box.“You must have the first one.”
“No, really, I—” But Rosemary was pressing it to her lips and what was Corinthia to do but eat the whole thing in one bite.It was one of the chocolate-covered cherries; her favorite.“Mm,” she hummed, through the confection.
“Pick one for me,” Rosemary said, her eyes flashing anticipation.
What could she pick for a bird-woman unversed in chocolate candies?Her fingers hovered indecisively before selecting the remaining chocolate-covered cherry.She held it out.
Rosemary tilted her head back a little bit and opened her mouth.Apparently it was still possible to make a mischievous face while your mouth was open that wide.
Corinthia put aside thoughts of birds in the nest and popped the chocolate into Rosemary’s mouth.She could tell the moment the cherry liqueur burst, because Rosemary’s eyes closed and she made a noise of delight.
“This,” she said, after swallowing, “is the greatest present ever.”
“It’s nothing, really.”Corinthia found herself looking down at her feet, not quite able to be the object of so much praise but also nearly glowing with it at the same time.“Would you like to put it inside before we go?”
“I suppose we can’t stuff ourselves with it at the concert?”
“We could if you wanted to.It’s not formal; they have a concession stand with candy bars and popcorn and everything.”
Rosemary looked torn, to the point where she looked down at the box, back up at Corinthia, and down again.Finally she took the box and reverently put the lid in place.“We will save it for after,” she said.
A thrill passed through Corinthia at the idea of “after.”
She watched Rosemary walk swiftly to put the chocolates inside the cottage.Such neat and economical movements she had!Quick and precise, yet naturally graceful, accented by the fluttering short cape that now reminded Corinthia of wings.
She had so many questions.But it was enough that they were in this place together, and when Rosemary emerged, it wasallthat mattered.There were no questions that couldn’t be answered by Rosemary’s smile.
“You look so pretty,” Rosemary said.
It was so completely without art, as genuine as the fresh air, that Corinthia could not help but feel the surprise manifest on her own face, and was caught flat-footed without an immediate response.
“I have seen you before,” Rosemary continued, “in other things—just as nice!—but there is something different about you tonight.”
“Thank you,” Corinthia said, and they walked on, down the path that led north to the library complex.“I thought it would be good to dress up.Your outfits are always so stylish.”
“Oh, this old thing,” Rosemary said, with a modesty that vanished when she did a little spin, making the cape fly.
“You can wear other things, though, right?Like the night at the library, when you fell in the pond?”
Rosemary chuckled.“I can.But I must always keep this with me,” she said, brushing at the shoulders of the cape.“Or else I cannot change form.”
“Like a swan maiden,” Corinthia said.She had brushed up on shapeshifting folktales.
In the distance, the musicians began to warm up.The crickets responded in kind.A few disrespectful birds shouted criticisms.Clouds passed over the moon, dimming the moonlight, but the glow in the forest seemed to compensate by twinkling more brightly.
There were more sounds nearby—rustling, clicking, croaking—that would have startled Corinthia before, but now only made her want to put an arm around Rosemary to shield her from any reptiles or bugs who would dare to crash their dark forest walk.Whether this was motivated by protectiveness or a secret desire to snuggle, Corinthia was unsure, but she was perfectly content to ignore the question entirely.
Overhead, Sagittarius took aim at the half moon.If he loosed an arrow, it would break the perfect lunar black-and-white cookie in two.
One half for me, one half for Rosemary, Corinthia thought.
