Inked Sapphire (Dear Dahlia Season 3)

12

CONTENT WARNING: Violence

Saida stared at the light brown teddy bear on her dressing table. What had she called it again? She couldn't remember. The teddy bear had black dots for eyes and a friendly smile.

"Right, so, if I put these beakers on the table, they'd line up nicely with the bookshelf. Obviously it's tiny but at least they won't fall out the window. And then I can put this - " Saida held up a birthday card she got from her first birthday at the Little Palace - "over on the drawers." She did so, then turned back to the desk. "So, what do you think?"

The teddy bear stared at her, obviously unmoving, and Saida sighed.

"I'm talking to a toy. A toy!" the heartrender said to herself as she snatched the beakers she used to use and placed them on her bookshelf. Saida put her hands on her hips, satisfied. The birthday card and the stained beakers added a bit more colour. "I need to get out more," Saida muttered, and left the room.

Downstairs was cold. Saida knelt beside the fire and put her hands near it. The door opened, and Saida looked up. Wadi approached her and sat beside her.

"Did you always make the fire?" Saida asked.
"Not always," Wadi replied.

Saida and her mother sat there for some time in silence.

"Are you descended from Naima's family?" Saida asked finally.
Wadi smiled sadly. "That would've been poetic, wouldn't it? No, I'm not."

Saida sighed and looked back at the fire. It crackled and leapt in the grate like an animal.

"Have you ever read the Shadow Girl?"
"Of course. Your father never read it much, though. Of course, once we started dating...I knew why."
"And you still married him?" a voice asked increduously. Wadi and Saida turned to see Dahlia standing there.

"Dahlia, for Saint's sake," Saida groaned. "At least knock."
"I did knock!"
"Not loudly," Saida retorted.
"Oh."

Wadi shook her head. "You don't just leave someone you love."
Saida saw Dahlia glance away. Her heart twisted.

Wadi sighed and got to her feet. "I need to check on your father." With that, she walked out of the room, leaving Dahlia and Saida alone.

"How are you not cold?" Saida asked.
"I'm not," Dahlia replied simply.
Saida sighed. "Let me feel your hands."
"I'm fine!" Dahlia protested.
"Dahlia."
"Fine," the otkazat'sya muttered, and Saida touched her hand.
"Saints, you're freezing!"
"I'm okay," Dahlia repeated. The heartrender shook her head. Sometimes Dahlia didn't know whether she was hot or cold. "My hands are warmer than yours."
"But you were near the fire," her sister pointed out. Saida sighed again and stayed near the grate, whilst Dahlia sat down on the sofa. There were a few peaceful moments of silence before the heartrender spoke again.

"You know, I always wondered if you were grisha."

Dahlia's head snapped up. "What?" she laughed in disbelief. "Why would you-"
Saida became defensive. "It wasn't just me! Everyone thought about it. Everyone wondered what order you were, what power you could have."
"And what did you think?" Dahlia asked. It was a loaded question. Saida went quiet.
"I don't know. It felt like you were grisha and otkazat'sya at the same time. Other times, it felt like I'd missed something."
"Well, you didn't. I'm otkazat'sya," Dahlia replied casually.

Saida started into the fire. Dahlia could say that word so easily. In the Little Palace, being otkazat'sya meant being a grisha's servant, or an oppressor. There was no in between. Most grisha feared the otkazat'sya outside the palace walls. Saida, knowing Dahlia, hadn't really thought the same. To her, being Suli was more important than being grisha.