Page 35 of Tangwystle
“They will,” I decided. Because that’s what it would lead to. She’d get more and more ambitious, forgetting to be careful. “Do you want to go back to Clinemell’s?”
Maybe it sounded like a threat, I’m not sure. But apprehension passed over Gretel’s face. Her eyes never left the window, though.
“You’re not trapped,” I said, needing her to know this. I didn’t want her to think of this place as a cage. “But Clinemell will force you back. Or leave you in jail. And think about Baz.”
Her green eyes cut over to me. She still chewed on the corner of her lower lip.
“And you,” she said faintly, the broom handle shifting in her grip.
I hardly mattered, but something struck my body when she said those words. Like she actually did understand I wanted to help. But not only that. That she didn’t want me to get into trouble either.
Even in those early days, I think we all understood that all three of us only wanted to protect one another.
“But can’t I at least go out in the garden?” Gretel asked. When I said nothing, she pouted. “I could help you in the garden. I know you’ve already planted vegetables for the spring. Come on, don’t you want help?”
Another memory of Baz came to mind. My thoughts always went to him. He’d helpfully flung some dirt at me the other day, laughing hysterically, only for him to use his thumb to brush it from my cheek. I’d hoped he would kiss me, but he hadn’t.
“I already have enough pests messing with my cabbages, thank you very much.”
She frowned, her lips pushing out in an overdramatic frown. “I’m not a pest.”
I rolled my eyes. “We need to finish this hall and I want to dust the east stairwell.”
Gretel sighed. I knew Clinemell didn’t live in filth, but Gretel certainly acted like she couldn’t be bothered to do any household tasks.
Instead of taking my instructions as a to-do list, she leaned her forehead against the glass pane.
“Maybe at night.” The words slipped out.
She rolled her head to look at me. “Really?”
“You’d have to stay in the garden. Near the house, not by the gate or the stone fence. And not in the courtyard near the carriage gate either.”
It wasn’t much freedom, but perhaps the cool air and stars would make her feel better. She already had a wide smile on her face just from the idea.
“I could sleep out there,” she said.
That sounded miserable. “It’ll be cold. And you could get sick.”
“Oh,” she uttered, deflating just a bit thanks to those two good points.
“Go dust,” I instructed. We’d need to start dinner soon, and there were a whole host of other things that needed to be done.
With another sigh, she picked up her broom and dust pan and trudged off to the east stairwell.
I relished the peace for just a moment. I probably didn’t need to check in on Gretel as much as I had, but I’d been her shadow for most of the day. Now, I enjoyed the space, though I stared after her. From this angle, her dress appeared even shorter.
I wiped a new smudge mark from the window, thanks to Gretel.
A floorboard creaked, but no one appeared. A manor as old as Blackwell’s meant there were plenty of groans coming from the old bones of the place. I’d long grown accustomed to them, knowing the Manor would never tolerate ghosts.
I left my spot at the window, walking down the hall.
An arm wrapped around me, pulling me into a dark crevice of the hallway.
My heart ticked, and my body slammed into something hard—Baz.
I’d always known he was taller, but as he peered down, the planes of his face sharper and sterner than usual, I couldn’t help but feel small.
