Page 17 of The Gargoyle’s Glade (The Gargoyle Knights #3)

Merry

T he daft man had hardly uttered a word since he’d called my name by the pools. There had been something in his voice, a particular kind of terror that I’d only heard once before. It made me shiver.

A few years back, my brother had climbed a tree every single adult in his life had told him explicitly not to climb.

It was too tall with not enough branches at good distance for steps.

He’d been challenged by a schoolmate to climb higher than anyone else had before, and like an idiot, he’d taken the bait.

To his credit, he’d managed to accomplish his task, but the branch he’d ascended to wasn’t sturdy enough to hold him.

My mother’s scream as he tumbled to the unforgiving ground below still echoed in my ears. More than one broken bone was owed to that damned tree, including my brother’s leg. It was thanks to Hailon that he’d been treated properly and could still walk.

I shook the memory and the guilt of not knowing how they were doing away as Coltor shrugged his large frame into my cabin.

Somehow, he took up all the space in the open room.

There was no escaping his woodsy scent, or how he somehow used up all the air.

He somehow seemed even taller under a roof than he did out in the open.

My face warmed as I stared at him, the way his eyes crawled along the little things I’d started collecting since I moved in echoing through my body like he was examining me with similar discernment.

“Where should I…” He lifted his arms, the collection of carvings cradled between them.

“The fireplace is fine for now.” His eyebrows shot up. “On the hearth, not actually in it. I promise I’m not going to use them for kindling,” I reassured him.

I was rewarded with a view of his broad shoulders as he turned and squatted down to do as I asked, lining the little wooden animals up neatly across the stone hearth.

He was wearing his hair mostly down for a change instead of braided, the long straight strands from the front pulled away from his face with a leather tie and the rest hanging down his back.

As he turned the little wooden creations the way he wanted, I pulled together some food.

I organized a plate with bread, cheese and sliced fruit, hoping it was enough to satisfy his hunger.

I’d get back to cooking properly one of these days, but between Hailon providing half my meals and my days at the crossroads, this was a much better match for my energy levels lately.

Coltor was glancing over at me as though waiting for an invitation as I set the board of snacks on the dining table. I said nothing, just gently waved a hand toward the food. He ducked his head in polite acceptance, plunking himself down in a chair that was two sizes too small for his body.

“I”—he twisted his fingers together, waiting for me to select what I wanted before he reached for a few things—“owe you an apology.” His eyes flicked to mine, then back to his plate. “Several, most likely.”

I took a slice of bread and spread a thick layer of some herby whipped goat cheese Hailon and I had found in the city on it, letting him stew while I chose my response. “What for?” I wanted to know if he understood exactly what he was apologizing about.

Coltor sighed, setting down the bread he’d taken before ever managing a bite. “Being… me, I suppose.”

“What does that mean?” I frowned at him. I didn’t appreciate his attitude much of the time, but he wasn’t a bad man. It bothered me that he thought poorly of himself.

“I was alone out here for a very long time. Social graces and manners are not my strong suit.”

I snorted. “It was not lack of manners that had you snapping at me over a garden tool.” I shook my head and crunched into an apple slice before continuing. “Would you like to tell me what exactly had you so riled up over me making planting beds?”

His jaw and knuckles flexed in sync. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” This odd conversation felt no different than having to coax the truth out of my siblings when they’d done something they shouldn’t have. “Is it that I was making changes when I’d only just arrived?”

“No.” He fidgeted in his seat, trying to get comfortable, or perhaps unable to. “I don’t care what you do with the yard. And gardens are an improvement. They’ll be good for us all, provided you can keep the animals out of them.”

“The animals won’t be a problem.” In fact, they’d already taken to eliminating any bugs threatening my sprouts, and I’d yet to see a weed.

Help , indeed. “What, then?” I prompted, licking a stray dollop of the fluffy cheese from my thumb.

His eyes tracked the movements and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“I…” He sucked in a long, deep breath. “I was worried for you.”

I rolled the words over in my head, making sure I had them right. “Worried?”

“Yes. That blade was very sharp. You could have been hurt.”

“So you said. It’s made that way on purpose, you know. A dull blade would be worse.”

It was his turn to chuff, though the sound held little humor. “Oh, I know. All too well, I’m afraid. My sister is forge mistress, and I’ve trained with a sword since I was a youngling. I’m well educated on blades.” The muscle in his jaw ticked again as he avoided my eye.

“Well, lucky for you I’m skilled with that kind of tool. Been gardening since I was a child myself, so I was never in any real danger.” He nodded shallowly. “Have you been watching me?”

His hand rubbed across his chest, a grimace on his face like he was tasting acid.

“Yes.” My eyebrows jumped up. I hadn’t expected him to be honest. “But not on purpose. Not… really. Just to be sure you were safe. I only ever wanted to be sure you were safe.” He sagged, a sadness crossing his face that had the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rising.

The chair scraped the floor as he stood. “I should go.”

“We’re not finished talking yet though.”

Coltor’s mouth opened and closed again. “I’m sorry, Merry. I really should?—”

“Coltor.” I heaved a sigh, exhausted by the tension between us. “Sit down. Please.” I tapped my fingertip on the tabletop with every syllable. Slowly, he sank back into his seat. “Thank you. Speaking of blades, care to explain the carvings?”

He shrugged, body slouched like he was trying to vanish into himself. “Something I do to keep my hands busy.”

“They’re lovely. Very detailed. You have a talent for it.” He seemed more perplexed than anything else, a scowl drawing his mouth into a pout.

“I was ugly to you. I shouldn’t have been, so I wanted to do something… nice.” His lips pursed again, and he took the opportunity to shove some cheese and a berry into his mouth.

“It’s a sweet gesture, thank you.” I stared at him until he continued.

“It …” He stopped, clearing his throat. “It was out of line to speak to you that way. I shouldn’t have looked in your windows, or come into your home without asking first, either. It’s just, I…” He shook his head. “Even if I did it for what I thought was a good reason, it was wrong, all of it.”

“I appreciate that.” His head bobbed, and we both ate a few bites, the silence heavy between us.

“Do you want me to leave?” I asked, and his head snapped up, dark eyes wide.

“Rylan offered an apartment at d’Arcan. Or I can return to Ophelia’s.

Am I unwelcome here?” My heart squeezed in my chest. I liked it here.

The little cabin I couldn’t help think of as mine, the peaceful glade, being close to my friend.

It was a gift, and I wasn’t ready to give it up.

“No.” He shook his head vigorously. “You have every right to be here. You should stay.”

“But you’re not happy about it.”

The corners of his mouth turned down, lines creasing the corners of his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“The animals then? I’ve got my own complaints about them, if we’re being honest.” Many, many complaints, most of which I’d found no resolution for yet.

“Them congregating here isn’t your fault. No, there’s no reason for you to leave, I swear it.” I could see the words pained him, but he was being sincere.

“Then why do you look at me as though I’m personally responsible for the ills in your life?”

He frowned, then shifted around in the uncomfortable chair before getting to his feet. He wandered back to the fireplace, hand rubbing across his broad, muscular chest. I waited.

“I don’t look at you like that.”

“I disagree.” I’d caught him several times, in fact, studying me like I was some kind of insect destroying a favored crop. As though if given enough time, he’d figure out a way to stamp me out of his life forever.

His mouth tightened. “I don’t mean to. But if I do, it’s not you. The glade has become very… noisy.”

Of all the things he could have said, that was not what I’d been expecting. “Sorry?”

He gestured with his hands, a grimace on his face.

“The construction, the animals, the people. It makes it difficult to think. And people naturally want to talk, and I’m not so good with my words, as you well know.

Or schooling my expression, clearly.” He scowled as though picturing several transgressions.

“They trample the flowers when they go off the path and don’t take care of things like they should.

They should respect it more because they don’t live here, because it’s not theirs, but they get careless sometimes.

And it’s all…” His large arms flailed a bit, but he settled for gripping his hair for a brief moment, palms mostly covering his ears. “Loud.”

“Oh.” I understood Coltor much better in that moment, many missing pieces finally slotting into place.