Chapter 6
A Shadow of Envy
Elara recalls her cousin Anya's lingering glances at her workshop, her hushed whispers of jealousy. Anya always resented Elara's talent, her own dreams overshadowed.
Elara’s breath hitched, a tiny, involuntary sound that was swallowed by the vastness of her workshop. The air, usually a comforting tapestry of a thousand fragrant stories, felt thin and sharp, pricked by the memory of Anya’s eyes. Not just any eyes, but Anya’s eyes, glinting with a peculiar, unreadable light whenever they landed on Elara. A light that now, in the stark stillness of her grief, Elara recognized as a shadow. A shadow of envy.
She remembered Anya’s visits, not as the warm, familial gatherings they were meant to be, but as subtle intrusions. Anya would hover at the edge of the workshop, her fingers tracing the polished wood of the workbenches, her gaze drifting over the rows of sparkling vials. Elara had always welcomed her cousin, offering her a sniff of a new blend, a glimpse into the magical world of scent. But Anya’s reactions had been peculiar. A forced smile, a tight-lipped compliment that never quite reached her eyes.
“It’s… very you, Elara,” Anya had once murmured, her voice barely a whisper, as Elara presented a delicate bouquet of morning dew and moonlit jasmine. Elara had taken it as a compliment then, a recognition of her unique style. Now, the words tasted like ash. Very you. As if Elara’s essence, her very talent, was something Anya resented, something that somehow diminished her own existence.
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