Page 7 of Cursed Dreams
Even if it meant wearing a dress covered in Goldora’s beloved embroidery.
Thalia barely had time to fully absorb the sight of the dress before her mother was ushering her toward the vanity, her hands already moving with purpose.
“We’ll have to do something with this hair of yours,” Goldora murmured, more to herself than to Thalia, as she reached for a comb. “It’s always such a wild thing.”
Thalia huffed but didn’t argue, letting her mother fuss as she sank onto the wooden stool by the vanity. The mirror reflected the soft glow of the hearth behind them, casting warm light over the room. Goldora’s fingers worked quickly, weaving strands of Thalia’s hair into delicate braids before pulling them into an elegant half-up style, leaving the rest cascading over her shoulders.
As her mother busied herself, a familiar weight landed on her lap.
“Tansy,” Thalia laughed as the tabby cat made herself comfortable, curling into a ball and purring loudly.
“Oh, you would think I wasn’t in the middle of something,” Goldora tsked, but there was no real annoyance in her tone.
Thalia scratched behind Tansy’s ears, the cat leaning into her touch with a deep, rumbling purr. “She’s just making sure I don’t run away before you’re finished torturing me.”
Goldora chuckled, working in a delicate golden thread through one of the braids. Then, her hands slowed. “You’ll be careful in Vertrose, won’t you?”
Thalia glanced up, catching her mother’s reflection in the mirror. Goldora wasn’t looking at her, but her expression was tight with concern.
“I’ll be fine, Mother,” Thalia reassured, tilting her head slightly as Goldora resumed her braiding. “I’ll be surrounded by other healers. It’s not as if I’m going into battle.”
Goldora let out a soft breath, fingers still weaving. “I know, but the city is different from here. Busier. Not everyone will look out for you the way we do here.”
Thalia turned slightly, reaching up to place her hand over her mother’s. “I’ll be fine,” she said gently. “I’ll come home to visit. I promise.”
Goldora let out a quiet laugh, though her eyes shimmered slightly. “You’d better.”
Thalia gave her mother’s hand a small squeeze before letting go. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment as Goldora finished her hair, Thalia hesitated, thinking back to earlier.
“There was something odd today,” she admitted, watching her mother’s reaction carefully. “Vaelith, the ability assessor when he tested my magic, it was… different. It felt like he was pulling something from me, then after he looked almost. Shocked. He asked about my lineage.”
Goldora’s hands stilled completely.
It was only for a fraction of a second, but Thalia felt the shift in the air.
Then, her mother resumed, far too casually. “I imagine it’s just because our family’s magic is strong,” she said lightly, but Thalia could hear the forced ease in her tone.
Thalia frowned slightly. “I don’t know. It wasn’t just that. He looked interested, like it wasn’t what he expected. The look he had after, for a moment, he reminded me of the stories Father used to tell me, about the High Fae, like he was somehow descended from them he looked ethereal.” She let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “Obviously, that’s ridiculous, but it was just… a strange feeling.”
Goldora’s hands tightened ever so slightly in Thalia’s hair.
Then, she exhaled, shaking her head. “It is ridiculous,” she agreed quickly. Too quickly. “The High Fae were lost in the war. None remain. Your head is so filled with stories from your books, you need to live a little !”
Thalia glanced up again, catching her mother’s gaze in the mirror. There was something guarded in her expression, something distant.
“Just avoid Vaelith wherever possible,” Goldora said finally, meeting Thalia’s eyes in the mirror. “Don’t give him a reason to look too closely at you. He's known in Vertrose as being ruthless”
Thalia’s brow furrowed, but before she could press further, Goldora stepped back, brushing her hands together as if to rid herself of the conversation. “There. Your hair is done. I need to finish preparations for the festival—don’t you dare undo my work before then.”
With that, she turned and busied herself with the herbs and oils on the table, her back now to Thalia.
Thalia let out a small breath, turning back to her reflection.
Something about her mother’s reaction unsettled her.
Goldora wasn’t usually so dismissive. It was clear something in that conversation had hit a nerve.
She exhaled slowly, pushing the thoughts away for now. Instead, she focused on the girl staring back at her in the mirror.
