Page 32 of Tangwystle
She grabbed a blanket and meant to pull it off the bed.
“No, stop.” I didn’t want the fresh linen dirtied on the ground. Besides, I could hardly have our recent patient sleeping on the floor.
Gretel held the blanket delicately. She stood taller than I by a few inches, yet she always stared at me with wide, innocent eyes.
“It’s fine,” I amended my original response to her showing up to my room. “Just. . .”
I motioned to the bed. She sprang up on it, the blankets instantly wrinkling and twisting about. I already had an inkling that she was a messy person, and this confirmed it.
“Don’t move it all about!”
She instantly stopped moving. For what it was worth, she knew how to take direction.
Gretel might annoy me, but when I gave her orders, she followed them. And without realizing it, I’d started tounderstand that this was a dynamic I liked. No one else had ever followed my directions. Not Master Blackwell and not Boswell, who would scoff. It took me months to get him to wipe his muddy shoes before he came into my kitchen.
She wiggled about, but the moment I told her to stop, her body stilled, her muscles snapping to comply. And I noticed because everything her body did attracted my attention.
“Move over,” I demanded. I blew out the light, the Manor quiet in the night. I wondered if in a few days Baz and I would go back to our evenings in the library. Though I suppose that meant Gretel would also be invited. I couldn’t imagine Baz being the type to not include her in household activities.
Thank the stars for the dark because as I climbed into bed, I could feel my cheeks flushing. Not so long ago, I’d read out loud dirty passages from a book to Baz. But that had been when it was just the two of us.
Though as I tucked myself into the bed, the memory of that interaction twisted. It morphed into the idea of sitting in my wingback chair, trying my best not to squirm as I read aloud. When I lowered the book, it wasn’t just Baz staring at me. But Gretel too.
I squirmed under the covers, some deep part of me breathless as I imagined how I would feel in that moment. My thighs clamped together as I tried to turn away from the memory, which had turned into something I wasn’t quite prepared to fully look at yet.
“Goodnight, Wystle.” Gretel’s breath tickled my neck, she was so close. My toes curled, and I tried to bring my knees to my chest, but that only knocked our legs together. It was absurd, the idea that the pair of us could fit on the narrow mattress.
“Why do you call me that?” I asked, not wanting to focus on how physically close we were.
“What, Wystle?”
Gretel had a naturally chirpy voice. It grated on me usually, but I sat as still as I could, listening.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I just think it sounds right. People give little nicknames to their friends you know.”
I didn’t really.
“I think it sounds ridiculous.” I wasn’t a whistle.
I should’ve known Gretel wouldn’t let my opinion end the conversation.
“I hear Baz,” she said so quietly, I strained to hear her, “call you fairy.”
“Go to bed, Gretel.”
Her breath stamped my skin as she sighed and then said, “Okay, Tangwystle.”
She slid her hand down, skimming my chest. I told myself she’d simply moved her arm, had tried to get comfortable.
I believed I’d never fall asleep, not with Gretel invading my bed. But to my surprise, I opened my eyes to find that I had slept so deeply I’d never even moved. I remained on my side, facing Gretel. Her chest moved up and down as she breathed deeply, one arm tucked under her head and the other lazily curled around my waist.
I not so gently sprang out of bed. Gretel’s breath caught, and she let out a sleepy stretch as she woke.
But if I thought getting out of bed would end my problems, I was sorely mistaken.
“Today’s my first day to help,” Gretel stated the obvious. I’d known her long enough to know she loved talking. And I think she mostly chatted to herself. She pushed the covers back, scooting to the edge of the bed.
I’d hung my dress for the day on the door of my narrow wardrobe. I tore my night shift off and stuffed the black dress over my head. I threw open the wardrobe, realizing Gretel needed something to wear.
