Chapter 3

Sorrel raised to the toes of his right foot and spun in a circle, his hands poised as though he was holding someone's hand and waist. He danced on top of the coffee table, letting the moonlight glow over him as the dim light of a lamp brightened his mother's features.

A television played a slow song as Sorrel mimicked the couple dancing on the screen. He played the lead male, acting out the movie step by step from memory. His mother watched with a loving gaze, while seated in the plush green armchair next to an electric heater.

She hummed along to the song for Sorrel's encouragement.

"You seem to really like this movie," Greta stated once the next scene in the movie played. It was the princess and prince sharing a passionate kiss.

He spun the other way before pretending to dip his invisible dancing partner in order to hide his grimace.

Sorrel actually hated it. It was a little too cutesy and romantic for his taste, and watching other couples achieve their happily ever after left a cold sensation in the pit of his gut.

But he danced and acted out the movie because Greta enjoyed watching him do so.

Turning his face from his invisible partner to look up at her with a smile, he pretended to waltz once more as the end credits began softly chiming.

His hair swayed behind him as he asked, "Do you think I would ever be able to go to a ballroom and dance?"

"Yes," she lied for his sake, her own smile softening. He pretended he didn't see the pity that now glinted in her gaze. "And all the fair maidens would want to dance with you."

His cheeks heated when he suddenly thought of Cypress as his dancing partner.

"And sirs." He chuckled, twirling in a circle that would have been too fast if he had a partner. He stumbled when her smile fell, and she did a double take at what he'd said. Sorrel paused. "I can't dance with the prince too?"

She leaned forward in her chair and carefully lifted his chin. He stopped her by grabbing her finger that was as tall as he was and hugged the very tip.

"You can dance with anyone your heart desires, as long as it makes you happy, my little flower petal."

A wide grin spread across his features.

"I'll dance with the princess and the prince." Then he let go of her finger to roll back, somersaulting until he landed back on his feet. He grabbed the hilt of the fake toy sword he'd strapped to his waist in preparation for the action scenes, and swung it side to side. "I'll dance with everyone after I slay the mighty dragon."

She laughed, such a musical sound, and tenderness sprouted in his chest. That's all he ever wanted. He just wanted to hear her laugh. To break her silence with joy and love – even if he knew it was ridiculous on his part.

How Sorrel came into his life was rather odd. Greta had driven to town to sell her extra vegetables at the market, and a lady selling crystals and tarot cards approached her. She handed Greta a barley seed, claiming she was a friend of the fairies and that it would fulfil her deepest wish.

Greta had been so lonely that she hadn't even questioned it, planting a seed in the hope something humanoid would sprout from it – despite doubting that anything would.

She'd never had a child of her own, and he knew that's what he was to her. Her child, no matter that they were so different.

"You better watch out." She placed her empty teacup on its plate and stood with the intention of leaving. It was late, and he'd known she would quickly depart once the movie ended. "If you are the shining knight and the handsome prince, then there will be no one else left in your stories."

He stabbed forward into the air. "I can be the villain too."

"You are too sweet to be the villain, my dear child."

Sorrel chuckled before he bowed to her. "Well, you are my princess. You are the only one I am willing to save, my fair maiden."

Greta, his mother, giggled from the doorway. "My days of being a fair maiden are truly over, Sorrel. Goodnight."

She shuffled out of the room with her items and softly closed the door behind her, leaving him alone in his bedroom.

He didn't need such a spacious room, which could have fit a double bed and side table. A broom closet would have been enough for him, although he did like having a window.

There was a desk, a coffee table, and the large armchair she'd been occupying. A doll's house sat on top of the desk so it could face the window, and he often stared out at the night sky from the smaller one in the wall of his toy bedroom while he tried to sleep. His mother had owned the miniature house since she was a child and had brought it down from the attic when he'd come into her life – along with all her doll's clothes.

The coffee table he stood upon was constantly cluttered with items. Anything he could use to entertain himself with if he wasn't by her side, helping her with all her chores. Coins, a thimble, random sewing items he used to make the doll clothing smaller for himself.

There were books he'd used to educate himself with. He'd flushed at the sex education book, not that he would ever need to utilise any of its information. The television was also a source of information, and he often watched it to learn about faraway forests and their animals, countries and their people.

Now that she was gone, he allowed his bright expression to fall.

He stomped on the power button of the remote, and the television turned off. Then he turned and sat on the edge of it with his head in his hands.

Sorrel pretended he wasn't as alone in this room as he felt.

He was small. The world was large. And he was lonely.

He loved his mother, but he'd never hugged another. He'd never been held properly, in a way that wasn't a large limb pressing against him. He'd never been kissed if it wasn't a large set of lips pressing against the entire side of his head and threatening to suck him inside her mouth.

He'd never danced with another, never been with another. He was bound to the borders of this house, unable to leave simply because of his size, and his unwillingness to leave Greta's side.

Until tonight.

A small smile crept into his features, and he lifted his eyes to the window.

He said he would come once Greta goes to sleep. Sorrel stood and rushed to the edge of the coffee table to leap to the desk.

Just as he landed, red magic dust glittered from the corner of the window. He's here!

Removing the toy sword so it would clunk to the ground, not wanting to be seen holding something so foolish, he went to the window and slid it sideways to open it. A small crack appeared, pulling in cold air.

"I thought she'd never leave," Cypress sung, before giving a small chuckle. Then he removed his tiny sword. "Do you mind if I cut the fly screen?"

Usually that would have bothered Sorrel, but right now, it was keeping them apart, keeping Sorrel trapped.

He nodded. "Go for it."

Cypress' eyes lit up at that, and he sliced it just enough to allow him to crawl through. Just as Sorrel shoved his arm through the hole, he flinched when Cypress took his hand and then helped him to his feet.

His cheeks warmed as he let go.

"I was kind of worried you wouldn't come," Sorrel stated, wringing his hands nervously.

"When I make a promise, I always follow through." That shouldn't have been so comforting, but Sorrel needed to hear that reassurance. He knew he was putting his full trust in a stranger after only just meeting them.

It was dangerous, just as going past the farm's fencing was.

"So, are you ready?" Cypress asked, gesturing to a brown sparrow wearing some kind of saddle like a horse.

His gaze roamed over it before drifting to Cypress' glittering dragonfly wings.

"As ready as I'll ever be."