Midnight Wonders

5.1.1. The Lambs in the Nursery

One morning, which was really evening, according to Cora's accurate day-glass, Symphora came to Cora with another task.

"We have gathered enough flowers," she said. "The kitchens need no more, and we must leave the flowers to bloom, otherwise they will be bare by Midsummer."

"Oh," Cora said, pretending to understand. She shared a worried look with her ladies. What other task could Symphora possibly have for her? If she was not going to the Gardens anymore, how would she steal away to meet Tristan?

"Come, and take your ladies," Symphora said. "We're going to the Nursery."

She started out of the room, and Cora glanced over at her ladies, whose eyes had grown wide and who were huddling together in the corner. "The Nursery?" she echoed.

"She's taking you to see the lambs," Lavinia said, sounding wondrous. Her expression matched Tulla's and Opellia's. "Let's go."

"The lambs...?" Cora said, even as Lavinia pulled her and out the door to where Symphora was waiting, back straight and chin up as ever. Symphora began to lead the procession down the woody halls. Cora hadn't taken a different path from the Gardens routes since she'd seen King Mercurius—her father—and she tried to take in every inch of its appearance. Smeared against the walls, she noticed a bright red mark. Her rouge. Tristan's work.

Finally, they came upon a large door, similar to the doors of Mercurius's room. Cora didn't want to think about that. It was still hard to think of him as her father. How could she, when she felt nothing? She remembered nothing. He might as well have been a stranger.

"This is the nursery," said Symphora, opened the door and gesturing into the room with a flourish. Cora stepped up to the doorway and peered inside, hardly daring to come closer.

The room was larger than Cora's, even larger than the king's room. It wasn't wholly white as Cora's room was, with a slight beige tint to the four walls. The ceiling was painted like the sky: pastel tints of blue, soft and fluffy clouds seeming to glide impossibly across the smooth surface.

It was a nursery. Cribs were lined like desks in a school classroom, narrow aisles just allowing enough space for nurses to squeeze through. There were none in the room.

In the cribs were lambs.

"Um," said Cora, blinking. She wondered if she were seeing correctly. But the more she stared, the more she was certain that there were lambs sleeping in the cribs. "You treat your lambs very nicely."

"They are our children," Symphora said, passing the door to Opellia and stepping inside. Cora followed, then her ladies. Symphora made her way to the closest row of cribs and stopped to peer in one at a small, fluffy little lamb curled in the corner with a pale yellow blanket draped atop it, its stubby tail peeking out from underneath.

Cora had been expecting human-looking infants, not lambs, but her heart burst all the same at the sight. "How adorable!" she said, trying to keep her voice low. The lambs were sleeping, after all.

Symphora tapped the side of the crib, where Cora now noticed a small card. A label. "This is Prospera." The name was printed neatly on the card.

"You name your lambs?" Cora fought the urge to scoop up Prospera and squeeze her tight; she looked so soft and fluffy.

"I said," said Symphora, sounding a bit exasperated, "they are our children. These babies are not lambs. They only appear as such."

Cora paused, frowning. "What?"

"They will grow up to look like you and me," said Symphora. "But when they are infants, it is good for them to take on other forms, as such." She gestured to the lambs. "For protection. It keeps them out of trouble when they're in this form; they won't fool around as much. And it helps them think of each other all the same." She gave Cora a meaningful look, as if she were supposed to understand what that meant. "We used to have them as chickens, but at the request of the previous Collector, they are now lanbs, and we have found them to be much softer and more pleasant." Symphora started down the aisles. Cora glanced at her ladies, who just stared back at her. Cora followed Symphora.