Lux [h.s]

six

It was the morning of the following day and Cora was sitting at her usual spot behind the desk. Her aunt had been kind enough to let her oversleep, so she'd made her way downstairs after nine, and missed the morning rush. She was glad she hadn't been there when the majority of the guests had left, since it'd allowed her not to cross paths with Harry.

She'd returned to the hostel on her own the night before since he'd seemed busy, and she'd only realised that it might've struck him as impolite too late—which was unfortunate, considering she'd had a lovely evening with him.

There was something in him, though, that made Cora terribly uneasy. It was her inability to understand anything about him. There wasn't a single trait, action or behaviour that he had or made that made sense to her, and it made her feel insecure whenever he was around. She never knew what to do or say, because she couldn't predict how he would've reacted. And yet she was so skilled at doing that, usually.

Cora put her elbows on the desk, glancing at the glass in front of her, trying to convince herself not to take it and start cleaning it out of boredom as she usually did.

"Temptation, humanity's greatest foe," a velvety voice said.

Cora jolted. The mysterious man she'd seen the night before was standing in front of the counter. She'd been so distracted she hadn't even heard him enter the hostel. It was the first time she saw him up close; he was wearing a white cloak with the hood pulled up, and silver earrings glinted in the shadows underneath his earlobes, half-hidden by the light blond strands of his hair. She was unable to let out a sound.

"The glass, naturally." He picked it up with slender fingers and studied it in the candlelight. "Day by day, little blondie cleans her dirty glass away." He grazed the rim absentmindedly, and a golden dusting shone on it for an instant. "You should come with me."

Cora's brain connected back to her mouth, and she stepped away. "What do you want from me?"

"Personally, nothing." He put down the glass. "However, someone wants something, or else I wouldn't be here, you curious rill."

"Harry?" she guessed, and he smiled.

"That's very correct."

"Why isn't he here?"

Aster looked around the room, as if to make sure no one was observing them. "He's with the horses, if you must know."

The horses? "I don't want to come with you. I don't even know who you are."

"Nothing but a loyal servant, of course." He leaned closer; his lilac eyes were colder than she remembered. "Not yours, though. Time is ticking."

If Aster was the performer behind the marvellous show of the black tent, Cora's perspective on it had just been changed. "I'm not coming."

"I see," Aster replied, "I'm afraid I'll have to steal you away regardless. The owner of the Fair requests your presence."

Cora sighed, feeling herself giving in. It would just take a moment. "Where is he?"

"Let's go," he said, ignoring her. Cora followed him, wondering why she was doing it in the first place. Aster walked to the door but stopped and turned around so suddenly she almost crashed into him. "Let surreality become your reality."

"What?"

"It's the sentence written on your ticket to the Pavilion. You still possess it, I'm certain."

"The Pavilion?"

"I believe you call it the black tent." He tilted his head, and his blond hair fell in front of his eyes. "Do you fear surreality, Ms. Lewis?"