glowing. || julian devorak

part six.

"The fool! Stars, I'd strangle him if I could reach his damn neck."

Nadia watched Portia pace the length of the salon from her place on the sofa, an amused expression on her face. "Oh, I think you could still manage."

Portia gestured wildly, her sharp movements and frizzy hair giving her the appearance of a woman gone mad. "You're absolutely right, milady. God! I have never met someone so — so ridiculous! A grown man, acting like a child just because he doesn't want to talk about his feelings." She scoffed, crossing her arms. Her quick steps paused for a moment as she leaned against the parlor door. "Willing to die for it. Willing to ruin his entire relationship with her just because he's scared."

Nadia bent forward, adjusting a delicate arrangement of teacups and saucers with a small frown. "I agree that he's being a tad immature about the whole thing," she said gently, looking up at the redhead who had resumed her hurried pacing, "but I do see where he's coming from."

Portia's skirts rippled as she whirled on the countess. "What? How could you possibly think he's handling this well?"

"I didn't say that." Nadia didn't bother to correct Portia's etiquette — they'd become too close for her to feel the need to be addressed properly in private, and a part of her warmed at seeing her confidante so comfortable with her. "All I meant was that he's not left with many options. I'll admit it is predictable that he chose the one that's the most painful for him, but his only other choice is to tell James how he feels. Would you really encourage him to do that? To potentially ruin her engagement?" Nadia tilted her head, looking at Portia in earnest. "Portia, you know that wouldn't be right."

Portia opened her mouth to argue, but the look on the countess's face had her sighing instead, and she crossed the room to sit beside Nadia on the small lavender loveseat. A few threads had come loose from one of the cushion's buttons, and Portia busied herself with carefully plucking them away. "I know," she said quietly, eyes and hands focused on her task, "but the other option is for him to die. It's selfish, but I would rather everyone be alive and miserable for a while than Julian be dead while Asra and James are happily married." She patted the cushion down and started twisting the lilac threads together, her fingers moving quickly.

Nadia slid a saucer to the edge of the table, silently prodding Portia to drink. "I understand that. But I've never known you to give up so easily. Could there not be another option that's better for everyone?"

Portia accepted the cup, taking an appraising sip — she'd learned to be wary of the countess's tea choices — and was pleasantly surprised to find that the carafe had been filled with Portia's favorite blend of coffee. "That'd be a miracle, and I've never known you to be such a blind optimist, milady."

Nadia shrugged, which looked peculiar on her perfect posture. "It's not blind if I have a plan."

"A plan?" The head servant's words were followed by another deep sip from her cup, and the light clattering of fine china.

"A rough outline of a wildly idealistic plan, admittedly." Nadia reached out to brush stray curl off Portia's forehead, tucking it behind her ear. The gesture was almost careless, and Nadia's words didn't even falter, but Portia felt a hot blush rise up to the tops of her ears nonetheless. "But one that I do have reason to believe might work. Do you have one of those petals, dear?"

Portia set her cup down, rather indelicately, and the sharp sound made Nadia's lip twitch. She reached inside her apron pocket to produce a small golden petal, which she handed over to the countess.

"I'm not as knowledgeable about Hanahaki disease as I'd like to be. It's not very common in Prakra — we tend to be a very direct people — but Nazali has worked on a few cases out in Galbrada and across the strait in Zadith. I always found it quite bizarre, really, a medical phenomenon with so little ties to actual medicine. An emotional disease, truly, and quite fickle." Nadia softened her tone before continuing. "The deeper the emotional connection, the faster the disease progresses. There's no set timeline, but there's very few ways to slow it down. A confession slows it significantly, but the only known cure is for the love to be required. A mutual confession," she clarified. Portia's eyes were red, and her breathing was shallow. Nadia reached to grab her hand tightly. "Confession being the key word. It has to be said, and it has to be real. The flowers grow to signify the object of affection. The gold color is obviously for James, but... what about this?" She twirled the petal between two fingers, angling it so Portia could look at the violet underside. "Who comes to mind?"

Portia tilted her head in confusion, and Nadia watched as the dots connected in her head. "Asra," she breathed out. "Oh, of course."

Julian's history with Asra was frustratingly spotty. Neither of them had ever felt much of a need to clarify anything that had happened between them, and the others didn't pry. What had been clear, at the very least, was that Julian had loved Asra. Now, Portia understood, that love was still very much in the present tense.

"Do you think he knows?" Portia looked up at Nadia, eyes wide. "Ilya, I mean. But I guess it's worth asking if Asra knows, either."

The countess considered this, eyes drifting shut in contemplation. "It might be safe to assume that Asra probably knows everything. He's always been too perceptive for his own good. He knew I'd developed feelings for James before I'd even realized myself." Eyes still closed, Nadia missed the way Portia stiffened at the confession, though it was common knowledge at this point. "The question we ought to be asking is whether or not Asra feels the same way." She opened her ruby eyes, looking to the woman beside her for input.

Asra was mysterious, perhaps to a fault. The only person who ever seemed to be able to get a true read on him was James.

Portia mulled the information over. "My brother's a fool, but he's not completely hopeless. I don't think he'd be hanging on to Asra for this long if he hadn't felt something there." She reached forward to pour herself another cup of coffee, refilling Nadia's as well without a thought. "But honestly, milady, what good does all this do us? Julian's still sick, and Asra and James are still getting married. Like you said, it wouldn't be right to break them up."

"You and I both know you can love more than one person."

"Obviously," Portia replied with a quick roll of her blue eyes. "That's Julian's entire issue."

Nadia suppressed a smile. "It could also be the solution."

Portia's red curls listed to the side with the tilt of her head. "You really think that could work? That by some miracle, they'd all be open to it?"

The countess reached out again, this time to fix the part of Portia's hair with humble fingers, nails grazing her scalp as she did so. "It's worth a shot, isn't it? Asra's always been full of surprises, and James has more love to give than she knows what to do with. We just need a way to introduce the idea." She stood, extending a hand to help Portia to her feet. "I'll be heading up to my contemplation tower, but we can discuss this more over dinner, if you'll join me?" Portia nodded hurriedly, leaning down to stack cups and saucers onto the tea tray. "No, no, allow me." Nadia took the tray, waving off Portia's protests. "The kitchen is on my way, it's no inconvenience." She ducked down, pressing two barely-there kisses to each of Portia's cheeks before heading briskly out the salon doors.

Portia reached up to touch her burning cheeks and prayed that her blush would fade before dinner.