Page 20 of Wings of Reverie

Periwinkle furrowed her brow. “Maybe the snowdrop gown?” she said. When the sparrow man handed it to her, she held it against her body and stepped in front of the ice mirror.

The dress was simple, but beautiful as well. The stem of a single flower—an exotic, almost springy green—curved gracefully around her neck, with petals as white as fresh snow, fuzzy and soft against her skin. It was a very pretty dress, and she looked very pretty in it.

“Made for you!” the sparrow man cried, clapping his hands. “Absolutely perfect.”

It was a very kind thing to say. But then Periwinkle remembered what Weaver had called her.Perfect little Periwinkle, he’d said.

She was tempted to snatch the beautiful gown, take it home, and tell him what the sparrow man had said.See?she imagined telling Weaver smugly.Not everyone thinksperfectis such a badthing.

But something held her back.

“Itisperfect,” she agreed. “Thank you for letting me look at it. But I actually have to be going.” At that, the sparrow man took the dress back with a kind smile, and Periwinkle lifted herself into the air on wobbly wings, pointing herself toward home.

The night market would be busy that night, and the Winter Woods would be full of parties. But Periwinkle already had an extremely exclusive—and urgent—invitation.

His knock came as the first stars began to twinkle in the night sky. Periwinkle opened the door, and there was Weaver, silhouetted against the ice walls of her front porch, dusky blue in the early evening. Behind him, suncatchers hanging from the branches over the porch stirred and tinkled in the breeze.

“Fletcher make those?” he asked, nodding pleasantly at the icicle decorations.

It was going to be a long night.

“No,” Periwinkle said. “Come inside.” Weaver brushed the hair out of his eyes and stepped over the threshold. Then he just…stopped there.

“Um, I visited the night market for a little bit earlier,” she said conversationally. “Did you see it on your way over? I thoughtabout picking up a dress for the First Frost Ball but decided to look around a little more.”

“Don’t get clothes from the night market. Not made to measure. Never fit like they should,” Weaver said absently. He stared around her front room, toeing off his shoes and setting a bag down by the pine needle mat. “I like your little snowball slipper decorations, though,” he added wryly, nodding at her shoes.

“These are cotton puffs, and I like to wear them around the house,” Periwinkle said primly. Weaver made a sound that might’ve been a snort. “Where’s Legs? He, at least, has some manners.”

“Left him at home.”

“Hm.” Periwinkle refused to admit that she didn’t mind this. Legs didn’t put her off as much as he had the first time she’d seen him, but she didn’t particularly want a spider wandering around her room. “Where do you live?”

“Snowlight Square,” Weaver said. “Close-ish to your friend Gliss, I think. Anyone ever tell you you ask a lot of questions?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes and headed toward her room. “Most people don’t seem to find talking to me a chore, but I guess you’re aspecialexception.”

Periwinkle’s home was as bright and unruly as she was, a snow globe of cool blue lit by a skylight overhead, full of sculpted ice furniture and snowy owl–feather rugs and mementos from her large circle of friends. Party invitations carved on snowflakes were stuck in the edges of her ice mirror beside her bed, and her pine wardrobe and shelves were stuffed chaotically with books and shoesand snacks and trinkets. Icicle mooncatchers and starcatchers—alsonotfrom Fletcher—hung from the branch above where she slept, and a glittering snowflake hung on the wall as a headboard, and clothes and jewelry hung…well. Everywhere.

She should definitely have cleaned up before Weaver came over.

Whatever. It was too late now.

As Weaver stared at her walls and the frost patterns she, Gliss, and Spike had made while they hung out, Periwinkle realized she hadn’t considered how odd it would feel to have a stranger in her home. After all, Spike and Gliss stayed the night all the time, and she had get-togethers and dinners with the rest of their friends on a pretty regular basis.

But Gliss and Spike were gone, away on the Mainland. Weaver didn’t even know what was in which cabinet.

“Did you remember everything you needed?” she asked him.

“Yes,” he said shortly.

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine, Sparkles.”

Is that why you’re standing in the middle of my living room like an ice sculpture?she wanted to ask. Was it possible he was a little nervous, too? It wouldn’t have occurred to Periwinkle that someone so arrogant could feel just as uncertain as she did, but she began to suspect he might be.

“Well, I’ve got tea steeping, super frosty,” she said, pointing back toward her kitchen corner. “I made you a pallet over here by mywardrobe, so you’ve got a bit of your own space while you hang out. It’s got extra-fluffy owl-feather blankets, and a few extra pillows, but let me know if you need more. I need alotof pillows to sleep.”WouldPeriwinkle be able to fall asleep with Weaver just across the room? Doubtful. But she’d have to try.