Resting her head against the carriage, Avaline wished Vivian would stop nagging.
"Be on your best behavior," her sister reminded the twins.
Squeezed beside Avaline, the twins nodded. The carriage hit a rough path. Avaline sucked in a breath as her head smacked against the carriage. After selling most of their carriages, the family kept the largest of them all. However, with all six of them inside, there was barely enough room to stretch their legs.
Elaine, Charles, and Vivian sat on the opposite side. Elaine whispered something to Charles, which caused him to smile. Avaline closed her eyes, wishing she'd gotten more sleep. The reason for her lack of sleep was tucked underneath her carriage seat.
The family had woken early to attend the sermon at the Sol Church. The sermon was held once a week before dawn. However, with the cloudy sky and the impending rain, there was little chance of seeing sunlight that day.
"We will," the twins promised.
"I'm sure they'll be fine," Elaine said. "They did such a great job last time, too."
When the carriage arrived at the church, Charles was the first to step out. Avaline was last. Many carriages were parked to one side. The church itself had a dome ceiling which opened when the sky was clear and closed when it rained. That morning, the ceiling was closed.
As the Stark carriage pulled away, another carriage pulled up. This one was much darker than the others. And that crest on the side of the door. Avaline stared as Lord Nightingale stepped out of the carriage. His coachman held out an umbrella for him.
Avaline couldn't take her eyes off of him. His dark suit was pristine as always, and his gold-embroidered vest accentuated his perfect physique. The way his silver hair shimmered with the cloudy sky made her jaw clench. It was only when he stood in front of her that it dawned on her that perhaps she had stared too long.
"Praise Sol," Lord Nightingale said in greeting.
"Praise Lu-Luna." Avaline cleared her throat. "What brings you here?"
He gestured to the church. "I'm here for the sermon. Is that not allowed?"
"O-of course it is." Her face burned. "I was - I was just - in awe of your presence."
Underneath his golden gaze, Avaline paled. Had that come out of her mouth? Embarrassed, she glanced over her shoulder. The Stark family had moved further toward the church entrance. The other families had too.
Lord Nightingale pulled at his tie. "You flatter me, Lady Stark." A hint of red colored his pointed ears. "Is everyone from Blackburry as forward as you?"
Avaline's back stiffened. Had she offended him? Where was her mind? Had his late-night message with Belle jumbled her thoughts? It was the lack of sleep. It had to be.
"My apologies," Avaline said with a curtsy. "If I crossed a line, I apologize."
A few of the gathered members glance at them. As the sky rumbled, Lord Nightingale moved his umbrella over Avaline.
"No line was crossed. I took it as a compliment, nothing more."
"Thank you for your understanding." She squeezed her gloved fingers. "I should have controlled myself better to not cause any misunderstandings."
"Has the Lady had many misunderstandings?"
Avaline pressed her lips together in a thin smile. She should have kept her words to herself.
"Erm, unfortunately, yes."
Not answering any invitations had been a relief for Avaline's family, even if it was due to unavoidable circumstances. The cool air swirled around them. Avaline shivered.
Lord Nightingale held his arm out. "Shall we?"
Avaline stared. Could she dare to take his arm?
"As it's my first time, I need some assistance. Please take care of me."
Clearing her throat, Avaline linked her arm with his. The thickness of his arm surprised her. She was dwarfed by his size. As they walked, a comforting earthy scent wafted into her nostrils.
"You-" Her words trailed off. Heat rose in her face.
"Hmm?"
Complimenting his scent wouldn't be too forward, would it?
"Lady Stark?"
Avaline's neck prickled. What was this? Had she forgotten how to act? Was it because she had never had any suitors? Or someone to talk to?
"Let's go inside," she whispered.
A trail of well-maintained cobblestone led up to the entrance. Rich green shrubs lined the path with the occasional flower bed starting to bloom. In the upcoming weeks, the flowers would be in full bloom with the blessing of Sol.
They passed through the main entrance of the church, which had large pillars on either side. Motifs of the Luna and Sol goddesses were carved at the base of the pillars. The nave was decorated with oil paintings depicting the formation of the twin goddesses, Sol and Luna.
With Lord Nightingale's large frame, they easily moved past the congregated members and through the pointed archway to the circle room where the worship was being held. The pews followed the curve of the circular room around a raised platform for the priestess. Bright sconces and candlelight bathed the room in warm light.
Avaline spotted her family near the front rows. Many of the spots were taken by the other families. Trying to find a spot, Avaline walked Lord Nightingale around the room. She squeezed between him and the pews carefully, not to walk into any one of them. She refused to make eye contact. What if Lord Nightingale thought she was throwing herself at him?
"Excuse me," Lord Nightingale said.
He slipped his arm from hers and snaked it around her back. Avaline's steps faltered. She was hyper-aware of the pressure against the small of her back. Trying not to shake, Avaline walked toward the pews where a family with similar black umbrellas like Lord Nightingale sat. smiled politely as she curtsied in greeting. Avaline looked at the pew. She wouldn't have enough room to squeeze in, not with her dress. Lord Nightingale held his arm out once more. Avaline held onto his arm as she sat. The blood-born's gazes were like pins against her skin. When Lord Nightingale sat beside Avaline, he blocked her view of her family.
"Lord Nightingale," said the man beside them, "May Sol's light enlighten you."
"And you as well, Lord Whitaker."
"Lady Stark, was it?" Lady Whitaker said.
Avaline's back stiffened.
"Aren't you too far from your pew?" she asked.
Her words stung. Yet, Avaline didn't allow her smile to falter. She didn't blame Lady Whitaker for thinking she was like those girls vying for Lord Nightingale's attention.
"You'll have to excuse me, Lady Whitaker," Lord Nightingale spoke up. "I asked Lady Stark to assist me."
Lord Whitaker chuckled. "There's so much help these days. It's good to be young."
Avaline tightened her hand into a fist or tried to. She glanced down, and she found that Lord Nightingale's arm wasn't malleable. Her face burned. Would it be strange to let go of him? Or would it be more strange to keep grabbing him? As she contemplated this, the music began around us, and the worshipers started singing.
Compared to the angelic voices of Lady and Lord Whitaker, Avaline didn't dare to utter a peep. She wasn't a proficient singer like Elaine or Vivian. Avaline's lessons were the first of many to suffer when the family had been forced to tighten its belt.
Minutes later, Priestess Sol entered. The music swelled as she approached the raised platform. Long yellow robes adorned the priestess's body. Her headdress was a golden headdress in the shape of the sun. A veil covered the priestess's face.
When Priestess Sol began the sermon, Avaline couldn't focus on it. Lord and Lady Whitaker's reaction was to be expected. Humans and blood-borns weren't always seen in the same space outside of a ball of some sort.
Even as her thoughts raced, Avaline's eyes closed. Her body sagged as sleep took her.
***
Lord Sebastian Nightingale stiffened as Lady Stark's breath deepened and her head pressed against his arm. Casually, he moved the umbrella to obstruct the gaze of any wondering eyes. A hint of absurdity pulled at his lips. If Lady Stark was in fact vying for his attention as Lady Whitaker had pointed out, the lady had a strange way of doing it. Or was this a new trick?
Glancing at her, it was hard to believe so. No self-respecting lady would sleep on a man's arm, let alone his arm, in such a public place.
Sebastian cast his gaze around the room. Lord Stark's piercing gaze watched him like a hawk. For the family to be this disturbed, Lady Avaline's presence was a mere coincidence, not a plan. Lady Madeline's family, on the other hand, schemed in hushed whispers. He regretted sending them an invitation to his ball the moment they spoke to him.
Even when confronting Lady Stark the first time, she was more concerned with defending Delilah than herself. Sebastian was inclined to believe that Lady Avaline wasn't acting on an agenda.
The music swelled as the pews were filled with another hymn. Lady Avaline sighed and nestled into his arm. She smelled of warmth and herby perfume. It was a faint smell that wasn't overpowering.
Lord Nightingale shifted. Lady Stark stirred. He moved his shoulder, and her head rolled off his arm. Lady Avaline jerked forward, ready to topple, when her eyes fluttered open. Sebastian clenched his jaw as her face tinted a mouthwatering red.
Mentally, he scolded himself. This wasn't like him at all. He focused on the priestess as she raised her arms to the dome ceiling. The music started again, signaling the end of the sermon.
"Was the sermon to your liking?" he asked Lady Stark.
She gave him a gaze with a mixture of embarrassment and pettiness. "I should get going."
The pews around them started emptying. Lord Nightingale helped Lady Stark stand. The corner of his lips pulled against. She was indeed short.
"I'll lead the way out," he told her.
He shifted the umbrella over their heads once more. Lady Stark turned her head, dabbing at her eyes with gloved fingers.
His steps were slow as he led her to the exit. He waited so that there was some distance between them and the other attendees.
"I shall send my carriage for you this evening," he said.
"I'll be in town. I can go from there."
"Where should my coachman meet you?"
The way she bit her lip entranced him.
"The bookstore," she replied.
Lord Nightingale came to a stop outside the building. The rest of the Stark family waited. Lady Ava pulled away and departed with a curtsy. Lord Nightingale watched her go before turning toward his own carriage.