3. IN WHICH THE WRITTEN WORD IS MORE POWERFUL THAN CORA EVER IMAGINED

Chapter three

D ear Cora,

I fear I may have misstepped, adhering to customs which you do not follow, and inadvertently hurt you, or our chances. Still, I'm a man who knows his own heart, and it is set on you. When a minotaur decides to court someone, we take it upon ourselves to study our hopeful partners. During that time, we are not wont to socialize with them, as we might be tempted to ask them for information instead of work for it. I have tried my best to study all that pertains to you and learned early on in my research about the mating habits of nymphs. I immediately felt as if such habits did not fit what I knew of you and set to court you in the minotaur fashion instead. I can only hope this was not entirely in error.

You see, the end of this study culminates in a grand gesture which should prove to our hopeful mate how we value them. Over the course of this eve, I will deliver to you three gifts, representing the past, the present, and the future I hope to share. Expect the first gift when the bell tolls one.

Ever yours,

Asterion

Cora's hands shook, the letter rattling in her grip. Asterion had not abandoned her? In fact, he'd spent weeks, perhaps months, building to whatever he was to do that very night? She could scarcely believe her eyes, but her curiosity could stand it no longer and she ripped at the red paper. Was this the first gift, come early? Or would there be an additional gift? If so, what could this small package hold?

A small box waited inside, and she lifted the lid to reveal... cookies. They were small, a pale brown that darkened at the edges and shaped like seashells. Nestled between them was another sprig of mistletoe, that same festive ribbon tied in a neat bow. Attached was another note .

You wouldn't let me give you my gift of cookies, though it symbolized my intention of courting you seriously. These are called Madeleines. I know not why, but they are delectable little treats (one of my favorite things in the world) shaped like shells (one of your favorite things). I wanted to hang this bundle of mistletoe over your door but feared to do so without you knowing it's significance. In Cretia, where I am from, we hang such things from doorframes, and everyone must kiss if they meet at that threshold. Hanging one in your doorframe, you see, would be presumptuous. Expect the first gift when the bell tolls one.

-A

The delicate cookies were artfully arranged, and Cora almost left them as they were. But, she supposed, if Asterion had gone to the trouble of making them, he'd surely intended for her to eat them. Extracting one dainty shell, she lifted it to her mouth, biting into the crispy exterior. Inside, it was smooth and light, buttery with a hint of almond and ever so gently sweetened. Though she had never had one before, the taste and texture instantly transported her to her childhood, of lazing away the hours on a mountainside meadow, picking out shapes in the clouds, or watching for dragons as they flew in and out of their caldera. The sweet tang of nostalgia echoed through her with each bite so strongly she could almost smell the warm grass.

With gentle fingers, she extracted the mistletoe, twirling it in her fingers as she thought. If Asterion had done that much work… she could at least appreciate his efforts. Her feelings on the matter, and him especially, were all a jumble as she scurried to her bedroom. It was getting late, and if she had three surprises coming, she'd probably appreciate being a little rested.

After changing into her nightgown, she snuggled into her bed, the light of her candle flickering against the wall. She knew, should she want, she could simply turn on her gas lamps, but there was something so magical about candlelight that she enjoyed, and it seemed like a night for magic. Her nerves were jangling about, though she tried to remind herself that it might be nothing but a prank. A cruel one at that.

Still, she could hardly contain her excitement as she took a draught to help her sleep and pulled the curtains of her bed closed.

" B ong!" The clanging of the grandfather clock woke Cora from sleep. In truth, she'd roused each time it sounded, though some magic of the night had allowed her to drift off easily, regardless. As the clock sounded one, though, she burst from her bed, eyes flying open as she rushed down the hall to her front door. 1

The sound of singing, dulled by her door, nudged just at the edge of her hearing. It seemed... quiet and when she opened the door, she saw why. A group of carolers, dressed up in holiday finery surrounded Asterion. He looked quite fine himself, with the drapey clothing of his people festooned with holly at the brooch, and a circlet of mistletoe on his head. Each of the carolers held candles and whispered as much as sang her favorite carol.

In front of him, Asterion held a large sign, or rather, a series of them, as she quickly realized.

" Cora," said the first. He dropped it, and the second revealed still more words. " Your first gift represents the past. I hope, over time we will learn each other’s..."

He revealed the third sign. " But until we do..."

"I hope you'll settle for a few fossils."

Cora pressed her hand against her mouth. She’d expected gifts , but already this was the most elaborate thing anyone had ever done for her. Tears spilled over onto her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

"You've been such a help to me..."

"And I've been enamored with you since the day I met you..."

"When you told me about your love of shells..."

"I knew you were the one."

"I know I'm not as smart..."

"Or as kind..."

"Or as patient..."

"Or as beautiful as you..."

"But I hope you'll consider giving me a chance."

"Just like you've taught me that shells have worn away..."

"And been replaced with other mineral deposits..."

"(See, I listen!)"

Cora giggled through her hand, overwhelmed. Apparently he did listen.

"I'd love to learn more about your past."

The carolers wrapped up their song, with Asterion holding the last note, his surprisingly beautiful voice warming her from the inside out.

Holding out a box, Asterion stepped forward. "If um, if it's alright that I return at two, please hang the mistletoe outside your door."

Cora sniffled and nodded her head, too choked up to reply, but his eyes lit up at her nod anyhow.

The carolers milled about awkwardly. Perhaps they were waiting for some bigger display, but if she was honest, this amount of fanfare was just about perfect.

Asterion beamed, shuffling his feet before slowly turning away, his eyes staying locked to hers until he was facing nearly entirely away from her. Seconds later, he turned back, waving with his full arm over his head. Then, the cheeky man lowered his hand and blew her a kiss!

The white marble hue of her skin had never hidden the pink of a blush very well, and now it was on full display. Hardly able to contain herself, she slapped her hand to her mouth and blew one back. What had come over her? Was it the holiday? The magic of the night? Asterion? Or was it simply the feeling of being truly seen for the first time in years?

Once he was out of sight, Cora scurried back inside to open her gift. Inside, carefully nestled among packing paper, was an arresting assortment of fossils. First, she picked up an opalized Trigonia, the light from her entryway reflecting off its varied colors and painting her walls. Next came a beautifully preserved iridescent Ammonite, and a Gastropoda that she'd need to look up for more information. A small but–if she made her guess correctly–exceedingly rare snail shell was the last item before she encountered another layer of paper. She peeled it away, because the box still felt heavy, and her breath caught at what was within.

Filling the bottom of the box, its frills preserved in pristine detail, was a blue coral. She'd been named for coral, as she'd formed near a section of fossilized coral. With a thrill of excitement, she brought the blue coral into her room and set it on her bureau. She smiled at how lovely it looked paired with her opalized version .

It was only one fifteen by the clock at her bedside, which meant three quarters of an hour to stew in her feelings and debate hanging the mistletoe.

So far at least, none of it seemed like an elaborate prank. And anyhow, Asterion had never struck her as one to be so cruel. As she climbed back into bed, her curtains open so she could admire her new shells. She twirled the sprig, images of what it might be like to be loved by Asterion dancing in her head.

1. I don’t often poke fun at my subjects, but it just strikes me that one does not “rush” down the hallway to someone they feel decidedly lukewarm about.