I immediately sat upright, clutching my blankets higher to shield myself, suddenly aware of my nightgown and the disarray of my appearance. My hand flew to my hair, attempting to tamethe worst of the tangles. A strange heat tightened in my chest, and I found myself wishing he would kindly look elsewhere until I had restored some semblance of dignity.
Dimly I wondered why I suddenly cared what someone else thought, but decided it was probably the awkwardness of our situation. I hadn’t awakened in the same room as someone else since I was a child, and it was natural to feel a little off-balance.
He watched me fumble with my hair, yet he didn't smile at my fluster, but merely waited. Awkwardness crowded the room as we stared at one another. I waited with uncertain anticipation, unsure how he would interact with me now that he knew my secret. Confiding in him beneath the shelter of darkness had felt safe; daylight left me feeling exposed.
Yet he merely smiled. “Good morning, Cecelia.”
I didn’t immediately answer, too occupied with smoothing my hair and ensuring my face was free from any evidence of sleep.
He opened his mouth as though to say something, then seemed to reconsider. Before last night I doubted he would have thought twice about the comment, but now he looked as though he was carefully choosing each word. He studied me thoughtfully a long moment. “You seem…nervous.” He made the observation cautiously, as if afraid pointing it out would upset me.
“I can’t be nervous,” I said quickly. “Or have you forgotten that I don’t feel things the way normal people do?” The words emerged sharper than intended.
He sighed. “No, I haven’t forgotten.”
I searched his expression for judgement, but found none; only the sadness I’d glimpsed last night lingered. Somehow this glimpse of his vulnerability softened my defensiveness enough for some semblance of honesty.
“Perhaps…I’m simply unaccustomed to waking up and discovering a stranger in my bedroom,” I admitted reluctantly.
A hint of amusement touched his features, tugging his mouth upwards. “Luckily for us both, I’m no longer a stranger.”
Once again my heart performed that strange lurching reaction. Somehow that made it all the worse. “The fact that you noticed I’m acting differently confirms our curse didn’t disappear overnight.”
“No,” he agreed. “It appears we’re still very much connected.”
The reminder settled between us, one neither of us seemed eager to examine too closely. I wanted to stray as far from the topic of my emotionless state as possible. I gestured towards the window.
“What were you looking at?” I was curious what could possibly have created such a tender, beautiful feeling.
His expression brightened immediately.
“I’ve been watching it for several minutes.” His gaze shifted back toward the window. “I kept thinking how much you’d like it; it’s the sort of view that belongs in one of your maps. You should see for yourself.” He stepped aside and beckoned me over.
I hesitated. I rarely made a habit of watching sunrises; usually I was too occupied with baking, mapping, or caring for Grandmother to spare much attention for something that happened every day.
Yet I couldn’t resist appreciating a picturesque landscape when time allowed, especially when the view changed so frequently whenever the bakery settled in a new location. I firmly told myself that my interest lay solely in the scenery beyond the window and certainly not in the sweet and handsome man inviting me to share it.
Satisfied with this entirely reasonable explanation, I slipped on the robe at the foot of my bed and wrapped it securely aroundmyself. Then I cautiously crossed the room and approached the window, doing my best not to notice how acutely aware I was of Gabe standing only a few inches away.
My breath caught. The forest stretched endlessly beyond the bakery clearing, its emerald canopy gilded by the rising sun. Sunlight spilled through the mist lingering between the trees, transforming the drifting fog into rivers of molten gold. Dew sparkled upon every leaf and blade of grass, while the distant mountains rose above the horizon beneath a sky brushed with shades of rose, amber, and lavender.
I was certain I’d never seen such a beautiful sunrise, somehow made all the lovelier with Gabe’s appreciation rippling across the unseen tether connecting us.
“What is this feeling?” I murmured, afraid anything louder than a whisper would shatter the fragile reverence surrounding us.
“It’s calledwonder,” he said softly.
“Wonder.” I liked the way the word sounded. It lingered on my tongue like a carefully balanced recipe—the sweetness of honey softened by warm spices, familiar and comforting all at once.
He glanced towards me, surprise lifting his brows. “Surely you’ve felt it before. I witnessed awe in your eyes the day we met when you were recording your maps.”
My hand unconsciously lifted to my heart, as if it could decipher the emotion hiding within the memory. Yet though I caught fragments of that afternoon in the woods, the magic concealed the feeling itself from my view, leaving only the outline of something that had once existed.
The wonder continued to pour through me, warm and bright, as though I were bathing in sunshine. For a few precious moments I simply stood there and let myself bask in it…until it suddenly became too much. The sensation swelled beyondanything I was accustomed to bearing, overwhelming the comfortable stillness I had spent years cultivating.
I abruptly turned away from the window and pressed a hand against my chest, taking several steadying breaths as I attempted to lock the feeling safely away and restore my equilibrium.
Gabe immediately leaned forward, concern furrowing his brow as he peered into my face. “Are you alright?”
