Book One: The Marigold's Larkspur ~ A tale of mystery, magic, and obsession.

Chapter Twenty-five

The day crawled by.

Soon after Callidus left, Mint arrived, knocking on the door, and quietly announcing that she had brought breakfast.

The door cracked open, and Cressida caught a glimpse of Mint's worried, anxious expression as she rolled the food cart through the door.

Cressida tried to make conversation, but Mint's lips were frozen in a perpetual tight frown.

"...Mint, come on." Cressida said eventually. "Callidus isn't even here. How would he know if you talked to me?"

Mint shook her head, her eyes wide and apologetic as she arranged the breakfast on the table, and then scurried like a mouse through the door. Cressida sighed, feeling the weight of her new isolation settle on her shoulders.

Hours passed, marked only by the subtle shift of sunlight through the curtains. Cressida wandered aimlessly around the Sapphire Suite, her mind burdened by the shattered trust and the uncertain future that lay ahead.

As she circled the dining table lost in thoughts, a sudden scuffling sound caught her attention. She froze as she turned her gaze toward the source of the noise.

There, near the corner of the room, she saw a small creature darting across the floor. It was a rat - a scruffy, gray intruder in the pristine surroundings of the suite. Cressida's initial shock gave way to amusement and fascination.

"...how did you get in here, little one?" she asked, crouching down to meet the gaze of the creature. "Are you as lost as I am?"

The rat seemed to pause for a moment, looking at her with large beady eyes.

"You can stay if you want. I have no one else to talk to now."

As Cressida extended her hand towards the rat, she noticed something peculiar. There was a large clump of fur entangled around the rat's tiny neck, but upon closer inspection she realized it was a coil of salt and pepper hair tied in a delicate purposeful bow. Her heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned upon her.

"Quail," she whispered, a rush of panic jolting through her. "Did Quail send you?"

The rat stared at her with its beady eyes, its body quivering in anticipation.

With trembling hands, Cressida slowly reached out, her fingers brushing against the rat's rough fur. The creature didn't flinch but instead nuzzled closer to her touch. Taking it as a sign, she carefully untied the bow and unraveled the coil of hair.

A surge of warmth flooded through Cressida as she confirmed it was indeed Quail's hair, his unique salt and pepper coils that she had seen countless times. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of relief and worry as she registered that he was still alive and had found a way to reach out to her despite being imprisoned.

The rat scurried away from her, its tiny body moving with purpose as it approached the door. It stood on its hind legs and pawed at the wood, looking back at her with a strange intelligent glint in its eyes.

"What is it?" she breathed, "You want me to leave? Quail wants me to leave?"

The rat continued to paw at the door as she clutched the hair in her fingers.

"I...I can't. Not that I don't want to. But there's no way out. The door's locked, and even if it wasn't, there are guards outside the guest wing." she said in a worried rush of a whisper. "And even if I managed to get past them, what would I do? Where would I go?"

Cressida's heart pounded in her chest as she watched the rat continue to scratch at the door. If Quail had gone through the trouble of sending the rat with a lock of his hair, it must have meant that he was in grave danger.