Page 21 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

Constance? That rat!

I’d had no idea someone would be giving him progress reports.

Cornered and attacked, I shook my head and stuttered, “I…I…are you sure it’s me she’s avoiding?”

He narrowed his eyes. “When was the last time you talked to her?”

It took me a second to answer. Would our notes be considered talking? They were definitely a form a communication, but they were a private correspondence, just between us. I didn’t want her dad to know about them—it would ruin what they’d come to mean to me.

So I mumbled, “The first day I worked here,” since that was the last time I’d actually seen her face and heard her voice. Then I winced a split second before he exploded because I knew how bad that sounded.

“The first day? It’s been two full weeks since then. That is not acceptable, not acceptable at all. What did you do to her?”

“I...I don’t know, sir,” I lied, knowing exactly what I’d done to make her retreat. “I’m trying. I go everywhere you said she should be, and she’s never there.” I hung my head in shame and tried to brace myself against the possibility I was about to be let go. Strangely enough, my first thought was not about how my mother would cope, but that I might never see Isobel again.

She couldn’t just blow into my life one day, stir everything around, and then never be heard from again. That wasn’t right.

I risked a glance at Mr. Nash, only to find him as frustrated and upset as I was, for completely different reasons. “Well, something’s got to be done about it,” he huffed.

When he glanced at me, I knew that this “something” he spoke of had to be done by me. Except I didn’t know what. I had thought the books and note exchanges had been progress, but since I refused to tell him about those, I had nothing.

Short of storming her bedroom and dragging her out by the hair, I had no control over where she might be at any given time. Maybe I could plant myself on her sofa in the library and wait there all day. I knew I could keep myself occupied with the rest of Brisingr. I could just wait until she snuck in since it was obvious she visited the room while I was working. I just had to be there at the right time. But would Mr. Nash be okay with me reading on the job, or would any of his staff mind such laziness?

There had to be something I could do inside the library to keep myself busy.

When an idea struck, I blurted, “Bookshelves.”

Mr. Nash glanced curiously at his own shelves. “What about them?”

“No, in the library,” I said, growing eager. “There’s not enough shelf space for all the books in there. So what if I made more? I’d have to consult with her on designs, and wood types, and just…” With not much knowledge about the topic, I lamely added, “Just every step of the process. Right?”

The idea appealed to him. His eyes lit with hope and he nodded slowly before squinting. “You know how to build bookshelves?”

I knew how to cut wood and then nail it back together. The rest I could learn, after another trip to the public library. So I gave a vague nod, mumbling, “Mmm, hmm.”

That was good enough for Mr. Nash. He clapped his hands together, his grin blooming. “Perfect. You head to her library now and get started. I’ll make sure Izzy knows she has to see you if she wants any say in how her library’s renovated.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

And so it was decided; I would build bookshelves. Except…

Fuck me, what the hell had I just gotten myself into? I didn’t have a clue how to really

build bookshelves.

chapter

SEVEN

Back in the library, paper and a pencil in hand, I began to draft.

I was scribbling my idea for the third wall when I heard her.

“Let me guess. You’ve never built a bookshelf in your life, have you?”

My heart gave a crazy, massive ka-pow before I could even lift my head. Then my breath caught in my throat. She wore her hair down, one half covering her scars, as well as long sleeves and thin black gloves. It was impossible to tell she’d ever been wounded. But not being able to see her scars wasn’t why she looked so beautiful to me.

The fire was back inside her. She was ready to spar again. It made her sizzle with a sparkling vitality.

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