Adelaide

Chapter IV

Sapphire Gibson

Topaz has only schooled here for two years — one less than me — yet I already feel as if I've known him for a lifetime.

I can picture distinctly the way he walks through the tunnels, navigating his way without really seeing, his consciousness always a bit too far within his head as he ponders anything and everything. His footfalls echo, rebounding from the wide cobblestone walls of the underpass, while torch flames cast long shadows across his path like a sunset forced into the dirt. The sconces always remain alight, but are never lit by me nor my friends. Although, we all ceased wondering about the uncanny workings of the citadel quite a while ago. It's a place of abandon, inhabited by the abandoned.

When they sent him away like a charity case, his parents insisted it was for his well-being. He was the oldest, the most independent — and apparently the most dispensable. For the last two years, he's received no letters from his parents, nor from his two brothers or twin sisters. I know he thinks he became a source of shame to them. Yet, free-spirited and strong-willed as he is, he now possesses a family in our friendship. To us, he's indispensable — loved, whether or not he realizes it.

As if he hears my thoughts, one of the heavy wall panels slide to the side from behind me, and a tall boy with shaggy golden hair and eyes warm like cinnamon slips into the girls' common room, furtive by habit at this point. Without turning around from my position on an amethystine settee by the hearth, I wait for Topaz to step to my side. Then, I glance up, smiling.

"No Ral today?"

He can't quite interpret the edge in my soft tone — suspicion, maybe, or comprehension — but my smile is his repose, so he dismisses his uncertainty.

"He's busy with studies. Classes begin in a half hour; have you eaten?"

I shrug, fixing my eyes across a marked page of the sketchbook in my lap instead of meeting his. I sense him peering over my shoulder to watch with mesmerization as I pencil details into a ninth portrait in the corner of yesterday's page — a dainty girl with dappled brown hair like a fawn's pelt.

"She's very pretty," he reroutes.

I know by now that he compliments the drawing more in appreciation for my talent than for the countenance of the muse; yet, when I lift my head to study his expression, something like doubt flickers behind my own.

Later, around midday, the other two join Topaz and I around the fire. Sitting like this with them, I feel more at home than ever.

"Please, what's not to like?" Ruby drawls, leaning back in her chair.

I try not to look too pained, attempting and failing to empathize with her stubborn perspective as we all contemplate one of her recurring hookups.

"You embellish, Rue. She's very arrogant."

Emerald nods with hesitant agreement and adds, "I have to agree with Saph. Don't deceive yourself. You always seek the good in others — a blessing and a curse, you know."

Ruby scoffs in indignation, retorting, "I'm not ignorant, and you all know that. She's brilliant and charismatic, and why shouldn't she be proud of that? Besides, Saph is too head over heels in love with Oz to understand me — something about finding her creative match."

To Ruby's oblivion, everyone else freezes, stunned by her careless words. I feel my face flush with heat, though my panicked glance toward Topaz is only met by profound shock pooling in those cinnamon eyes. Suddenly, my breaths come short and the towering common room walls close around me. I see nothing but the questioning stares of my friends, prying impossible truths from my soul. Unable to voice my perturbation, I stand abruptly and flee from the room, accidentally shoving straight into Adelaide on my way out.

How long has she been standing there, eavesdropping?