Page 46 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

“Seriously,” I murmured, staring at her in awe. “How do you know all this?”

Isobel just kept going. “Coral is for desire. Lavender is love at first sight. Yellow with red tips are friendship and falling in love. A mix of red and white roses means—”

“Okay, okay, okay,” I cut her off, waving my hands. No way could I remember any of that. “Let’s just go with the simple red roses.”

She shrugged. “Works for me.”

Then she stood up, abandoning her meal, and started toward the door as if to go fetch the roses that very moment. I scampered to my feet and followed her until we reached the entrance of the garden. She left the door open behind her, which I probably could’ve considered an invitation, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

The “I don’t want anyone else messing around in my garden. Especially him” demand she’d given that first day had been explicit. I wasn’t going to break the rule unless I was just as explicitly told it was okay.

Rocking back onto my heels, I clasped my hands behind my back and patiently waited for her to notice I was no longer behind her. She picked up a pair of gloves and scissors, then said something I couldn’t hear, before she whirled around and scowled at me.

“What the heck are you doing out there?” she called, frowning irritably.

Feigning surprise, I pressed a hand to my chest. “Oh! Am I allowed to enter?”

Her glare was dry. “Get in here.”

I grinned, happy to get on her prickly side. Then I stepped a foot inside, only to breathe in a lungful. “Damn, it smells good in here.”

Isobel ignored my wonderment, already turning to the roses and eyeing them with a sad longing. “It’s going to have to be long-stem,” she decided.

I fluttered out an unconcerned hand. “Whichever ones you feel as if you can part with.” I refused to participate in the actual choosing. They were her babies; she was going to have to be the one to decide which left the nest.

I turned to the pink vines to my left; I swear they smelled the best.

Behind me, I heard a snip, then another. She was actually doing it. Pride filled my chest. Refusing to look, mostly because I was scared I’d lose my own nerve and make her stop if I saw any kind of tortured expression on her face, I once again clasped my hands behind my back and began to walk the row, studying all the different types.

When I noticed a couple obvious non-rose greens growing amongst the bushes, I lifted my eyebrows. “What’s this? Is this…holy shit, is there a weed in your rose garden?”

Isobel appeared at my side, only to grumble under her breath and immediately pull the weed from the ground. When I blinked at her, trying not to grin, she scowled back. “What?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Just surprised you let one grow that big. The first time I was in here, everything was so immaculate and flawless. I thought it wouldn’t even be possible for a weed to—”

“I’ve been a little busy lately,” she snapped, sending me a death glare before returning to the flowers and clipping savagely. “The library never would’ve gotten renovated if I’d let you do it all by yourself.”

Since she wasn’t looking my way, I let my grin grow. To me, it was a good sign that she no longer spent every waking hour in here, perfecting her flowers. It meant she was learning to live a little. Her father would be pleased with this progress. But more importantly, I was pleased by it.

My step a little lighter and smile a little brighter, I wandered to the end of the row until I came to a shelf holding about two dozen tiny pots full of moist soil and miniature green leaves splitting out of about half of them.

“Ooh, what’re these?”

Isobel briefly glanced up from her work before turning back to her clipping. “Those are the seeds you gave me.”

My lips parted in awe. But shit, it was thrilling to realize she hadn’t thrown them out, and even more exciting to learn she’d actually gotten them to grow.

“Really?” I stepped closer. “Holy shit. They’re actually growing. I can’t believe it. Look at those cute little baby leaves.” I wiggled my pointer finger at them as if to tickle their stems, even though I didn’t dare to actually touch them in fear I might kill one.

“Those cute little baby leaves are called cotyledons.”

Of course she would know that. I grinned, amused by her formality. “Well, whatever they’re called, I just want to bounce them on my knee and smoosh their chubby little leaf cheeks. They’re freaking adorable.”

Isobel laughed. Honest-to-God laughed. “You’re so strange.”

As long as she was laughing in true amusement, she cou

ld call me anything she wanted. I shrugged, grinning even wider and feeling like I was on top of the world. “I can’t wait to see the roses. Black with blue tips sound pretty cool.”

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