Page 29 of The Gargoyle's Glade
I snorted. “It was not lack of manners that had you snapping at me over a garden tool.” I shook my head and crunched into an apple slice before continuing. “Would you like to tell me what exactly had you so riled up over me making planting beds?”
His jaw and knuckles flexed in sync. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” This odd conversation felt no different than having to coax the truth out of my siblings when they’d done something they shouldn’t have. “Is it that I was making changes when I’d only just arrived?”
“No.” He fidgeted in his seat, trying to get comfortable, or perhaps unable to. “I don’t care what you do with the yard. And gardens are an improvement. They’ll be good for us all, provided you can keep the animals out of them.”
“The animals won’t be a problem.” In fact, they’d already taken to eliminating any bugs threatening my sprouts, and I’d yet to see a weed.Help, indeed. “What, then?” I prompted, licking a stray dollop of the fluffy cheese from my thumb. His eyes tracked the movements and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
“I…” He sucked in a long, deep breath. “I was worried for you.”
I rolled the words over in my head, making sure I had them right. “Worried?”
“Yes. That blade was very sharp. You could have been hurt.”
“So you said. It’s made that way on purpose, you know. A dull blade would be worse.”
It was his turn to chuff, though the sound held little humor. “Oh, I know. All too well, I’m afraid. My sister is forge mistress, and I’ve trained with a sword since I was a youngling. I’m well educated on blades.” The muscle in his jaw ticked again as he avoided my eye.
“Well, lucky for you I’m skilled with that kind of tool. Been gardening since I was a child myself, so I was never in any real danger.” He nodded shallowly. “Have you been watching me?”
His hand rubbed across his chest, a grimace on his face like he was tasting acid. “Yes.” My eyebrows jumped up. I hadn’t expected him to be honest. “But not on purpose. Not… really. Just to be sure you were safe. I only ever wanted to be sure you were safe.” He sagged, a sadness crossing his face that had the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rising. The chair scraped the floor as he stood. “I should go.”
“We’re not finished talking yet though.”
Coltor’s mouth opened and closed again. “I’m sorry, Merry. I really should?—”
“Coltor.” I heaved a sigh, exhausted by the tension between us. “Sit down. Please.” I tapped my fingertip on the tabletop with every syllable. Slowly, he sank back into his seat. “Thank you. Speaking of blades, care to explain the carvings?”
He shrugged, body slouched like he was trying to vanish into himself. “Something I do to keep my hands busy.”
“They’re lovely. Very detailed. You have a talent for it.” He seemed more perplexed than anything else, a scowl drawing his mouth into a pout.
“I was ugly to you. I shouldn’t have been, so I wanted to do something… nice.” His lips pursed again, and he took the opportunity to shove some cheese and a berry into his mouth.
“It’s a sweet gesture, thank you.” I stared at him until he continued.
“It …” He stopped, clearing his throat. “It was out of line to speak to you that way. I shouldn’t have looked in your windows, or come into your home without asking first, either. It’s just, I…” He shook his head. “Even if I did it for what I thought was a good reason, it was wrong, all of it.”
“I appreciate that.” His head bobbed, and we both ate a few bites, the silence heavy between us. “Do you want me to leave?” I asked, and his head snapped up, dark eyes wide. “Rylan offered an apartment at d’Arcan. Or I can return to Ophelia’s. Am I unwelcome here?” My heart squeezed in my chest. I liked it here. The little cabin I couldn’t help think of as mine, the peaceful glade, being close to my friend. It was a gift, and I wasn’t ready to give it up.
“No.” He shook his head vigorously. “You have every right to be here. You should stay.”
“But you’re not happy about it.”
The corners of his mouth turned down, lines creasing the corners of his eyes. “It’s not you.”
“The animals then? I’ve got my own complaints about them, if we’re being honest.” Many, many complaints, most of which I’d found no resolution for yet.
“Them congregating here isn’t your fault. No, there’s no reason for you to leave, I swear it.” I could see the words pained him, but he was being sincere.
“Then why do you look at me as though I’m personally responsible for the ills in your life?”
He frowned, then shifted around in the uncomfortable chair before getting to his feet. He wandered back to the fireplace, hand rubbing across his broad, muscular chest. I waited.
“I don’t look at you like that.”
“I disagree.” I’d caught him several times, in fact, studying me like I was some kind of insect destroying a favored crop. As though if given enough time, he’d figure out a way to stamp me out of his life forever.
