Page 83 of Tangwystle

And it worked. Of course, it worked. Rufus had no ground to stand on. No one cared if Baz fucked his own servants.

I sat in the room, still wearing my ballgown, blinking in a daze.

“I believe an apology is owed,” Baz said to Rufus.

Clinemell’s chest lifted with a breath, and he opened his mouth.

“No,” Baz interrupted. He nodded at me. “To Tangwystle, who you dragged away from her home for this silly charade.”

Rufus wasn’t used to getting dressed down, and he certainly didn’t like it because of his treatment of a servant.

The man, face somber, bowed. It wasn’t words, but it would do.

Rufus cleared his throat, addressing the Council next. “I apologize for taking up your time.”

And then he left. The man left like he hadn’t been the one to kick up a fuss.

The room broke into murmurs, men conversing with one another. Baz and Mr. Rodman shook hands.

“Isabella?” I asked, thinking of that petite woman facing her dragon of a husband.

“She’ll be fine,” Baz said. Now that I saw him up close, I could read the fury in his eyes.

“She showed up last night,” Gretel explained in a soft hush. “Oh, Wystle, was it very bad?”

I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I choked on a breath.

“Come on,” Baz said at once. “Let’s get you home.”

twenty-three

The carriage ride was quiet.I realized then, I’d never been in one of the Blackwell carriages. I can remember the clop of the horses’ hoofs as they pulled us along the cobblestone streets.

My gaze stayed tilted toward the window. I could feel Baz and Gretel staring at me, but I couldn’t yet handle looking at them.

But as the carriage pulled up the slope toward Blackwell Manor, I knew I’d have to face them.

And when I saw the Manor—my home—I couldn’t deny the quake of emotion breaking my chest. Relief and hope, and some garbled up sense of anger and sadness, thanks to the last few days.

I’d done everything to ensure our masquerade ball would go off without a hitch. Disappointment crushed me, though, we should have been celebrating.

We had survived.

Gretel would never be forced back to Rufus Clinemell.

Baz’s reputation had surprisingly stayed intact.

I would get to live out my days at Blackwell Manor with Baz and Gretel so long as we all still wanted it that way.

“Fairy?” Baz prompted. The carriage had stopped moving some minutes ago.

I opened the door, slipping out to the ground. My boots crunched against the gravel. I’m not sure why we didn’t pull around to the back. Even on my first day at Blackwell Manor, I used the side door.

But that day, for the very first time, I used the massive front door. I turned my thoughts away from the memory of Baz showing up here.

Looking back, I think I feared examining my own thoughts and memories too much. I needed room from what had just happened. From the fear of being taken away from Baz and Gretel. Mrs. Clinemell’s interactions. And the breezy laughter of the councilmen when they thought my worst nightmare was nothing but a bit of humor.

“Fairy,” Baz tried again as we all stepped into the great foyer.