FOUR
She couldn't sleep. Her nursemaid was snoring softly at the foot of her bed, but something had woken her.
The night was still and silent. A hush must have fallen over the whole world, disturbed only by her tossing and turning. Underneath her, the bed was softer than any cloud.
It was a featherbed. The first night she was tucked in, she wailed in terror. The bed had been too strange for her comprehension, too smooth and too alien. The blankets and goose down pillows felt like thick globs of foam around her.
Maybe she would sink right through and drown. The thought had frightened her to tears.
The servants had all fled, fearing the weeping dark. Only he had come, disappointed but not surprised. He let her sleep on a pallet on the floor that night, but when she woke in the morning, she found herself back on the bed.
Over the following days, he wore her out by letting her expel all her energy blotting out the light around her until she was falling asleep on the floor of his study, before she was even returned to her own room. Eventually, the bed stopped being so frightening.
She was not frightened now. But she still couldn't sleep.
The room was utterly quiet except for the rustling of sheets. Her nurse dozed on, undisturbed by the commotion above her. She wriggled around the bed to peer down at Vanya, but Vanya stayed in her too-deep slumber.
After a sad moment, she squirmed out of bed, landing on the floor with a dull thud. Overgrown windows took up most of the wall on the far side of her bedroom, big enough for her to reach without having to climb up on top of a chair. She wiggled underneath the curtains. The heavy fabric fell around her like a velvety waterfall.
Outside, the sky was mysteriously empty. Only small glitters of light twinkled across the cloudy sea, scattered and barely there. Gone was the moon, that fat and ugly rock that glowed in the dark and never failed to disturb her night.
It did not disturb her tonight.
She pressed her nose to the glass in search of it.
Every day, whenever the sun was up, she was restless and fidgety. The unnatural sun was still too new for her, the abominable day still too bright. By nighttime, she was almost always sleepy.
He never let her bring the shadows out anymore, but he couldn't keep an eye on her all the time. She had not learned the small science. She used up her own energy keeping the world around her dim if not dark, and magic was forbidden.
When he left her in Vanya's care during the day, she forced the intolerable daylight into something more tolerable. Something a little darker. Something a little kinder. All she wanted was a little kindness from the light.
Her nursemaid was still scared of the dark, but Vanya liked seeing the shadows dance as long as some glimmering sunglow was allowed to remain in the room with her, those small and shining globes of daylight amidst the dark and shadowy sea. It was their little secret. The first secret she learned to keep from him.
The night was home. She was only ever settled by the eventide, only ever comfortable enough to sleep without waking when it was dark out — only to be horribly woken again in the morning when the hideous daylight assaulted her.
Nightfall became her favourite time of the day. Back home, every time of the day was nightfall. There was no time. But home was far away from her, and in this brave new world, night was as rare and precious as a parent's kiss. She could not remember her parents.
