Page 73 of Never Been Gargoyled
I dialed before I could lose my nerve.
“Feydin?” Gavrel's voice carried surprise and something that might have been relief. “Mon dieu, I was beginning to think you'd turned to stone permanently.”
“Hello, brother.” The words felt rusty in my throat. “I owe you an apology.”
“Non, we both said things we didn't mean. I should have called sooner myself.” His accent had thickened, the way it always did when he was emotional. “How are you? Still playing guardian to that crumbling estate?”
“Actually, that's why I'm calling. Things have changed.”
I told him about Dazy, about the legal challenge, about how completely my world had been transformed in such a short time. As I spoke, I found myself pacing the cottage, my tail lashing with nervous energy.
“She sounds magnificent,” Gavrel said when I finished. “And you sound different. Lighter.”
“She's my mate.”
“Ah.” Understanding filled his voice. “That explains it. The way you describe her, the careful attention to her needs. You're fully bonded.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“To another gargoyle? Absolutely. You're practically vibrating with the need to provide for her.” He chuckled. “I remember what Papa told us about when he met Maman. He rebuilt half their first house just to seeher smile.”
The memory made my chest tight. Our parents had been devoted to each other until the end. “Do you think I'm doing enough? I've been trying to show her through actions, but human courtship is different from ours.”
“Keep doing what you're doing. But Feydin, have you told her what she means to you? Not just that you love her, but how completely she's changed you?”
“I have, but…” I faltered. “I believe actions show more than words.”
“You’re right about that. If you feel you need to do more, then create something that speaks to the depth of your feelings. Something only you could make for her.”
We hung up after promises that he would visit Harmony Glen soon, that we would repair what had been broken between us. Leaving my cottage, I walked the estate grounds in the moonlight. Gavrel's advice echoed in my mind. Create something that spoke to the depth of my feelings.
I knew exactly what to do.
The estate had many forgotten spaces, rooms that hadn't been used in years. But there was one in particular that had always called to me: a small conservatory tucked away in the middle of the back part of the building, hidden from outside and accessible only through a secret door in the library. Helga had mentioned it a few times, saying it was her private retreat. I hadn’t gone there often.
It was past time I did.
I spent the next three days working in secret while Dazy focused on the outdoor gardens. The space hadbeen sealed off for so long that dust coated everything like a shroud, and cobwebs draped across the glass ceiling in intricate patterns that would have been beautiful if the whole room wasn’t so neglected.
But I could see the potential beneath the decay.
I started by cleaning, removing years of accumulated debris and washing the glass roof panels until they sparkled. The room was small but perfectly proportioned, with curved walls. Special shutters would open on the outer wall, revealing glass beneath. Then she could view the back garden areas. The glass ceiling would let her sit back on a chaise and view the stars.
Next came the real work. I flew to every nursery within fifty miles, gathering the most beautiful plants I could find. Night-blooming cereus that would unfurl spectacular flowers once a year. Herbs that would fill the air with perfume. Delicate plants that thrived with lots of light. Orchids in every color imaginable.
But it wasn't enough to simply arrange the plants. This needed to be a space that spoke to who Dazy was, what she loved. I installed a small fountain in the center, its gentle bubbling creating peaceful background noise. I built elevated planting beds from reclaimed stone, each one positioned to catch optimal light for its intended inhabitants.
Along one wall, I created a reading nook with cushions covered in soft fabric in her favorite colors. I'd noticed how she loved to curl up with her romance novels, and this would give her a place to do so surrounded by living beauty.
The finishing touch was the most important: a small plaque I'd had engraved, positioned where she would see it the moment she entered.
For Dazy, who brings things back to life—including me. F
I was putting the final touches on the space when my phone rang. Unknown number, but something made me answer.
“Mr. Budiere? This is Judge Harrison's clerk. I'm calling to inform you that a court date has been set for the Winterbourne Estate case. Two weeks from today, nine AM.”
Two weeks. My stomach dropped as I thanked the clerk and hung up. Two weeks to find the evidence we needed, to build a case strong enough to overcome Rebecca's documentation.
