Page 23 of The Gargoyle's Gift
By the time we were finished strategizing, we’d ordered several more drinks plus the equivalent of a second supper. In thanks for her attention and our privacy, we’d tipped the waitress more coin than she likely saw in a full night’s work. We’d also come to detailed decisions on when and how we should make our move on the councilmen and two contingency plans just in case anything went sideways. It was invigorating in a way only battle planning could be.
“I’m glad to have you back, old friend.” Magnus slapped me hard on the shoulder as we made our way to a part of the city where we could take to the rooftops and sky without being seen.
I didn’t know what to say in response, but I felt lighter than I had in ages. Proud. Like I still deserved to have a place among my people. Like I had a sense of direction.
And it was taking me right back to the conclave, toward Lovette.
Chapter 12
Lovette
Ishouldn’t have been so pleased to find Gaius’s gift sitting outside my apartment door after my late dinner.
Admittedly, my initial response was suspicion, but my heart softened the moment I found the letter inside. If nothing else, the gesture proved he wasn’t as indifferent to our situation as he claimed to be. Inside the basket was sufficient cheese and bread for a week’s worth of midnight snacks, not to mention a variety of dried fruits and my favorite chocolates from a candymaker in Revalia. He’d even included some pastries and muffins, along with an assortment of loose teas and coffee beans from one of the bakeries.
By all accounts, it was a very thoughtful bounty, not to mention expensive. I was glad nobody—namely my sister—was around to see me blushing fiercely and making excited cooing noises as I dug out one fantastic treat after another. I couldn’t wait to sample everything.
It was a good apology, too. The letter was thoughtful and genuine, though I did still want to hear the words. How he’d managed to select such perfect items was beyond me. It was almost like the grumpy Gaius I thought I knew and this one,the one I worked quietly beside in his hut, were different men altogether.
A ball of heat knotted in my chest. I was hopeful. The Gaius I’d known to this point had a very difficult time admitting when he was wrong in any capacity, so I took this gesture as quite a leap in a new direction.
Invigorated by his generosity, I went around the conclave, searching huts one after another, intent on finding a chair that was wider, deeper, and much more comfortable for sitting than the one he had. I had no idea if he’d take the gesture as I meant it—a way for him to not be perpetually causing himself more discomfort—or if he’d be insulted.
For larger-sized beings, we’d certainly collected a lot of furniture that accommodated smaller human bodies instead of our own. While many dwellings boasted only cushions, nearly all of the ones that had chairs contained the skinny, straight-backed wooden abominations I was trying to replace. It took me over an hour of tromping in and out of unoccupied huts to find a single chair that I considered a decent candidate for my purposes, and another hour to decide that of the three I’d found, my first was, of course, the best option.
Slightly miffed, and already designing something better than any of them in my head, I hauled the chair to Gaius’s hut. It was late, and I knocked, fully expecting to hear his footsteps grumpily thumping toward me, but it was quiet inside. I peered around the building, finding the windows were dark, as well.
My bright mood quickly turned to deep suspicion, because if he wasn’t here, where was he? I had several guesses, and none of them were good.
After knocking a third time, I turned the handle and swung the door open wide. “Don’t mind if I do,” I muttered to myself, hauling the chair in before lighting one of the oil lamps.
After a quick look around, impressed at the progress he’d made in my absence, I installed the chair where he normally sat, moving the terrible chair to the other side of the small table. I found myself smiling, thinking of us sitting across from one another while we worked. Though, honestly, I’d much prefer the softness of the bed.
I knew I should leave quickly, I was invading his space in the worst way, but I couldn’t make myself go without spending at least a few minutes with the jewelry. I sat in the newly acquired chair, pleased with my choice, as I picked one full necklace from the nearly finished bunch. Hanging it on the board of pegs before dampening the lamp, I then returned to my apartment… with the remaining tangled nests of chains.
It wasbeyond late when Gaius pounded on my door.
I’d fallen asleep on the sofa after pulling no fewer than fifteen necklaces out of one of the knots. I hadn’t been waiting for him, not exactly, but the later the hour I got, the more I worried about what kind of trouble he might have gotten into. I’d decided while doing a thorough sampling of the treasures in my basket of treats that I’d likely be woken to the sound of the infirmary bell. It was rare I was so happy to be wrong.
“Lovette? Open the door.” His tone betrayed annoyance, but he was also not nearly as loud as he could have been, which seemed unusually polite.
“Coming.” I yawned as I crossed the room, heart pounding in anticipation of which version of the man I might find on the other side of the door.
“You took the necklaces?” he asked, worry pulling his features into stark lines.
“Yes.”
His shoulders sagged in relief, but a scowl quickly formed. “I told you they were not to leave my hut.”
“They’re right over there. Would you like to come in?” I gestured to the low table between my two sofas.
Gaius grumbled something under his breath as he limped over, doing inventory of what I’d taken at a glance. He spun. “You brought me a different chair?”
“I did. The one you had was doing you no favors. Would you like some tea? I was gifted a lovely assortment recently.” I raised an eyebrow. He was stunned into momentary silence. “Thank you for that, by the way. I love everything. The letter… well. I appreciate it very much.”
He opened his mouth and closed it again. “You’re welcome. And no to the tea. What exactly are you wearing?”
I glanced down at the oversized tunic I used for sleeping and observed how it brushed my knees like an oddly designed summer dress. “A tunic? Have a seat.”
