Silk Stories

Honey and Burnt Sugar

Tara was a girl made of complexities. Some would say she isn't even a girl, but a creature made of lightning and purity. She had an iron will and the ferocity of a caged animal. Her words were sharp and cold at times but she could make them as sweet as spun sugar. She weaponized herself into the perfect picture of a lady from her onyx hair to her always-in-heels toes. The moment she walked into a room all eyes were on her yet many were too weary to approach such beauty in fear of the icy wrath that was hidden under dolled porcelain skin. She was composed of such perfection people often compared her to the marble statues that loomed over them in the gardens. Her skin seemed to glow and her face was made up of arcs and curves that compared to no other. She was all long limbs that would've looked awkward on anyone else but she carried herself with such self-respect she made it graceful. However, the most eye-catching thing about Tara was her dancing. Oh, how she loved to dance. The music seemed to flow through her and she thrilled anyone who watched her. When the music started she would often randomly choose a dance partner and everyone in attendance would turn to watch her. She would have her partner falling for her by the end of the night through her dancing and her dazzling looks. 

One night as Tara was sitting in her room, moonlight streaming through her windows, she heard two soft knocks echo off of her large oak doors. She gathered herself and strode to the door preparing to open it when she glimpsed a creme envelope slip under her door. Tara softly clasped her hands around the paper in fear of damaging the unread letter. As she walked to her desk that sat pressed under her window she examined the envelope. On the front side of the envelope, her name was written in cursive that was decorative and loopy which Tara decided she quite liked. She flipped the envelope and noticed the wax sealing lacked the one thing that would've hinted at the contents of the letter, a crest. Tara's family crest was one that held great respect among all people that knew of it and it was a simple way to know the sender of a letter before opening it. This envelope was sealed with a dove grey wax and a small daisy. As she sat in her chair she ran her fingers over the daisy which was dried and pressed. Tara turned the envelope over in her hand and contemplated just leaving it to be read in the morning but curiosity overcame her reasoning and she released the seal and began reading the letter.

Dear Tara,

I have a small confession. Forgive this pouring of my heart.

I cherish France, where we first met. The moment my eyes fell on you, I knew you were an entrancing girl. Recently, I have begun to contemplate our simple dances as much more. 

My feelings for you intensified when I saw you walking in the moonlight that night. As everyone else at the ball was busy sipping their oldest wines you walked the gardens and whispered the names of constellations to yourself. I was further enamored by your heart. You can be as compelling and intuitive as you please but you still find a way to shine with kindness to the people who need it. 

You're so special with your sweet ways. The ways you handle your role and its responsibilities show strength that continues to impress me.

I know that to you I'm just a dance partner disposable and replaceable but you have shaken up my world and stolen the air from my lungs, only to replace it with something sweeter which I am not yet able to name. Maybe with time, the words for how you make me feel will flow more freely. 

If you are willing to give me your time I would like to meet you in the gardens in the center of the city tomorrow night. I haven't seen you in a long while so you may not recognize me at first but I'm confident you will come to remembrance after a short conversation.

With all my affection,

your dance partner

Tara was stunned at the passion that seemed to flow from the letter. Every sentence dipped in honey and warmed her chest. She felt fluttery for a reason she could not explain. Maybe it was because for the first time in her life someone saw past the ice-cold facade and wanted to be more than just the princess's dance partner. Tara began to work on a gown that was simple yet elegant and sure to impress. 

The night had come faster than Tara had anticipated and she rushed to get ready. She slipped on her dress that she finished barely an hour ago and called for some maids to help get her ready. Soft hands began to gently twist her hair into delicate patterns and set her face in pristine beauty. The aged hands of her favorite maid clasped a necklace around her neck as she questioned the princess about what was so worthy of getting dressed up. Tara only gave vague responses not wanting to look a fool if this ended up being a deception. 

As Tara walked the towns market heads turned her way. She wasn't sure if it was from the two guards flanking each side of her or the beautiful dress that she wore. Tara wasn't even sure if she was the one wearing the dress or if it was wearing her. This was surely her best work and it matched if not outshined her beauty. As she approached the center of the city -which was still buzzing despite the late hour and the moon glowing on them- she saw a figure standing in a gazebo. She ordered the guards to stay back and she approached the figure. 

The figure was a man who seemed familiar but she wasn't quite sure. "Hello, did you happen to write me a letter?" Tara asked carefully not sure of the situation. The man in the gazebo turned and fully took Tara in, his jaw dropping. Tara looked purely ethereal in this setting. Her skin reflected the moon and the contrast between her dark hair and her light dress set her aglow. She looked like a goddess. 

"Uh- oh Uhm yes I did. I am surprised you actually came," The man said stuttering in astonishment. "I am Jordan if u remember me, we danced together at your birthday ball when you were 15," Jordan explained because Tara had a look of confusion set on her face.

"Jordan? Oh my, you have grown," Tara said blush crawling across her face. Jordan was a handsome man and Tara couldn't deny that fact. 

"I can say the same about you. Your beauty has increased since we last spoke I am sure of it," Tara and Jordan spoke for a while and caught up on each other's lives. At some point, someone in the market began playing music, and Tara and Jordan fell into a soft dance. A crowd began to gather around where the two stood. They didn't seem to notice as they were too focused on eachother and carrying out the movements of the music. As Tara spun in delicate circles her dress seemed to come alive and the people watching gazed in awe. 

The dress was hung in Tara's closet that night and never worn again, although many years later it always reminds her of how she fell in love with her husband on a soft summery night.