To the Stars | Throne of Glass

45

Celaena counted the days till Yulemas. There were only, in fact, a few days between Samhuinn and Yulemas. And little more till the anniversary of her parents' death. It was hard not to get caught up in the winter festivities, yet the heaviness in her heart prevented her from fully celebrating. For the past few years, it was the same. Joyful yet mourning. But Celaena wanted this time to be different. She would lock the sorrow in her heart, and take it out only when she needed it.

Happiness. Celaena bathed in the thought, the word like sugar on her tongue.

So she buried the grief, and smiled.

~

Celaena woke on Yulemas, a light feeling in her chest, lighter than she'd ever had before. A few packages sat by the foot of her bed, and she wriggled under the covers to the other end of the mattress. Three beautifully wrapped presents. 

It was easy to guess who the first two were from. A small box covered in tissue paper; Arobynn. A gold-swathed bundle of square objects; Ben. But the last one, a scroll of paper with a velvet ribbon wrapped round the end, was... unexpected, to say the least. No one, no one aside from Arobynn and Ben had ever given a gift to her. 

Celaena reached a hand towards it, fingers trembling with anticipation. She pulled off the ribbon and it fell into her lap with a flutter. The paper unravelled in her hand, and she gasped.

Music. It was a music sheet. And, at the top, written in small, scraggly handwriting, it said: Hope you like it. My mother played this to me every night. And below that, a name.

Sam.

~

Celaena didn't understand Sam Cortland. He treated her horrifically on some days, yet on others, he rendered her speechless. 'Sam!' She rapped on his door.

Eyes bright, he opened the door. 'Yes?'

Celaena swallowed. 'Happy Yulemas, Sam.' He looked at the sheets in her hand. 'What is this for?' she asked.

Sam shrugged. 'I was just hoping you could learn to play it.'

She smiled, and it wasn't forced. 'Of course. And, Sam?' She wedged her foot between the door frame as he made to close it.

'Hm?'

'I didn't get you anything.'

Sam scratched his neck. 'I wasn't expecting you to.'

Then he closed the door.

~

She decided to return the kind gesture. When Sam walked into his room after lunch, a miniature piano sat on his dresser. A note fluttered in the breeze, pinned to the wood by a piano leg. Open it, it said. He flipped open the tiny lid, to reveal a small golden knob on the underside of the roof. He twisted it four times. An achingly familiar melody weaved into the air. Sam sagged onto the ground, and a smile spread across his cheeks, wider than ever before.

~

A carriage took them to the Royal Theatre in the early evening. Celaena rode in a separate carriage with Ben, Archer and Sam. She couldn't stop the urge to glance at Sam's face. His eyes met hers, and he gave a small smile, but his eyes were alight with ecstasy. I take it you liked it? Celaena asked. He nodded.

As the cab pulled up outside the entrance, Celaena wrapped the fur cloak round her tighter. This was a much-used present from Arobynn from a few years ago. This year, he had given her a beautiful array of hair combs, all unique, jewel-embedded and lethally sharp. Ben had given her a stack of books, all titles she'd never heard before. She'd fallen in love with everything instantly.

They were ushered indoors and to Arobynn's private box. Celaena removed her cloak and handed it to a servant who bobbed a curtsy before hurrying away. The ice-blue silk dress clung to her comfortably, the corset loose enough for her to sheath a few blades round her ribs, as well as the usual two round her thighs. It was nothing particularly fancy; but nothing Celaena owned was exactly dull, either. The sleeves were long, and finished with a single thread looped round her third finger. The skirt itself was considered very long compared to other ridiculous gowns she'd seen other ladies wear. 'Lysandra - two o'clock,' Sam muttered into her ear. She whirled-

Lysandra walked to them, hips swaying. 'Hello Sam,' she cooed. 'Hello Celaena,' she added, a note of disgust ringing her tone.

Celaena returned the greeting with a curt nod. 'Lysandra.'

'Did you see what Arobynn sent Clarisse?' Lysandra gloated. Celaena wanted to punch her teeth down her throat. But she looked, searching- there. Clarisse was brandishing a handkerchief like a victory flag as she engaged in conversation with a small group of admirers. 

'Spider silk,' Sam breathed.

Lysandra blinked, a lovely little smile spreading across her face. 'Yes. One of the rarest, most finest-'

'Shut up,' Celaena said as sweetly as possible. 'We're not interested.' But she was, as was Sam, from the mildly-surprised look on his face. 'Plus, it's not you with the handkerchief.'

Lysandra's look turned sour. 'Oh, you ruin everything, Celaena.' Then she turned and walked away gracefully.

Sam turned to Celaena, something similar to relief visible on his face. 'Thank the Gods.'

Celaena snorted. 'The Gods? If I recall correctly, it was I who rid her.'

~

The performances lasted well over three hours, the show a mix of music and dance. Celaena clapped through it all.

At midnight, the Theatre finally began to pack away, and the jolly, half-drunk crowd shuffled out of the building. Celaena found herself next to Archer on the way back. He shifted bedside her. 'Hey.'

'Hello, Archer.'

'How are you?'

'Tired.' A yawn followed, emphasising her answer.

He chuckled. 'Me, too. Enjoy the last hours of Yulemas.'