Quartz sits facing a fair-skinned girl with long, raven tresses, ruby lips, dressed in a purple gown trimmed with red ribbons.
Quartz: Not that I’m not glad to see you, m’dear, but what are you doing here? You’re hardly a secondary character.
Briar: Oh, I am in your story. Not that I’m not glad to be one. I’m learning a great deal about myself as a secondary character in Of Cuckoo Clocks and Crystal Coffins.
Quartz: Trust you to find the bright side to being a secondary character, m’dear.
Briar: That’s just it. I wanted to find the bright side. To be the happy lodger, always ready with a smile for you and your brothers, singing while I sweep right along with the birds. That lodger isn’t me, though, no matter how much I pretended to be her.
Quartz: You didn’t have to pretend, m’dear. I knew you were hurting. The way we met, the way you collapsed on our doorstep, shivering, how could you not be?
Briar: I wanted to be that happy lodger, I truly did. For you. For myself. To become someone who could forget Oriana and everything she’d done. To throw myself into my new life and find the joy in it the way you always did.
Quartz: Huh? I’m not exactly the singing sort. Nor do I bring any cheer to those around me. I just grumble. Mind you, I can out-grumble everyone except Opal, but I’m all about the irritation. Not the joy.
Briar: Only I’ve seen that joy in you. I’ve seen it when you examine the stones you’ve mined, polishing them until they shine just right. Or watching you whittle. There’s joy in your concentration, Quartz. A condensed happiness that’s all the more powerful for not being released in song.
Quartz: Well, that’s a very pretty way of putting it. (His nose turns red.) Opal says I’m just mooning over stones. Nimmie Not thinks I’m not having enough fun.
Briar: You are having fun. You find the joy in your work, something I’m trying hard to do.
Quartz: You’re off to a good start, m’dear. Give yourself time.
Briar: Look at me. (She fingers the ribbons in her sleeve.) I’m wearing the same gown I wore as Princess Blanche. Not the homespun I wear as your Fairest. I can’t escape from who I was.
Quartz: You shouldn’t. Accept it, rant at it, let it go. You’re doing it already, see? Look at the name you’re using for this interview, m’dear. It’s not Blanche. It’s not even Fairest. It’s Briar, a name you love because someone you love gives it to you.
Briar: Yes. Yes, I was feeling so angry and miserable when I stepped from your story, feeling like it took everything I had to smile. Only I can almost see her, the one you’re speaking of. A girl with golden hair, like and unlike Oriana. Only her blue eyes are far more earnest and direct.
Quartz: Welcome to the fourth wall here in the Cauldron, m’dear. You see things from other stories, things a future you has to look forward to. You won’t remember any of this when you return to our story, but take comfort from knowing this, here and now. One day you’ll wear that dress for yourself and your beloved. One day you’ll love wearing it, love the look in the eyes of the princess seeing you in it. I promise.
Briar: I hope you’re right. I pray for it with all my heart.
Quartz: You do that. For now, keep your chin up, aye?
Briar: (smiling a little) Yes…I mean, aye.
Quartz: Good.
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