Page 31 of The Gargoyle’s Glade (The Gargoyle Knights #3)

MERRY

T he kitchen at d’Arcan was not in any way a small space, but there were so many people in it at the same time, navigating around one another had become like a dance.

Grace hadn’t stopped smiling, which was incredible to me, as we’d already been working without a break for several hours, and she’d started preparing at least two days before.

“Thank you, girls,” she said, addressing Sara and Jana, who were short enough they could duck through the crush of adult bodies with ease.

Grace wiped her hands on her apron as she made a pass through the room, expert eyes taking everything in.

“Please take the tin of sugar to Merry and then bring up another basket of clean towels. Lay them out flat on the closest student table, okay? Not the family table, we don’t want to ruin the finish. ”

“Yes ma’am,” they chimed.

Having heard my name, I turned to accept the large container. “Thank you, girls.”

“Welcome, Miss Merry!” The two girls dashed out the door to the dining room.

I measured the sugar I needed into my pot of bubbling fruit and started to stir.

We were making jam. Apple, berry, and even some pear.

We’d started the day chopping and blanching squash, tomatoes, green beans.

Everything we’d harvested from our gardens, plus some things Grace picked up in bulk at the market.

After the jam was poured and we stopped for a bit to rest, we’d be going into pickles.

Cucumbers, carrots. Green beans and asparagus.

Calla, Greta, Hailon, and I had all followed Grace’s expert instruction, and now there were jars all up and down the kitchen countertops and lining tables in the dining room.

“Be sure you don’t spill on your hand. Boiling sugar makes a nasty burn,” Grace warned as Calla started carefully transferring her spiced apple butter into jars.

“Thankfully we’re in the best possible place for being treated.” Calla’s mouth was clenched as she focused, but her eyes sparkled with mirth.

“I’m nearly there on the preventive elixir,” Greta added, starting in on some of the stacks of washing.

“Preventive?” Hailon asked.

Greta grinned and winked at me. “Yes, Coltor came to me a while back asking about something that could be taken ahead of possible injury. Quite smart actually, but difficult to nail down a perfect recipe for. I’ve had to send off for several rare plants to experiment with.

” She grew thoughtful, gaze far away as she dried one of the large pots.

“Would be nice to have some of those expensive items more closely at hand for my work.”

“You need a poison garden,” I offered.

“Poison garden?” Grace asked, scuttling back and forth, wiping jar rims and setting on the special lids.

“It would have to be secured somewhere none of the students—or children, or animals for that matter—can accidentally get into it.”

“Wait, what on earth is a poison garden?” Grace repeated.

“Just what it sounds like,” Hailon offered. “We never had one in Ravenglen, most everything we needed grew wild in the mountains, but I loved the idea of putting one in the backyard for the extra rare things I never got to play with.” We shared a smile.

“Usually, it’s a garden that’s locked and walled,” I told Grace. “Plants that are deadly in one way or another. Only those with special skills and knowledge should be allowed in.”

“Well, tell the headmaster what you need. You already got him going on the vegetables and a small orchard, I can only imagine he’d adore the notion of such a dangerous addition.”

“I’ve got a wish list,” Greta nodded enthusiastically.

“Tell me when to come talk with him, and I’ll do my best.”

Grace pulled out snacks and tea once everything was jarred, and we sat around the family table talking and laughing. It was so lovely to be part of a circle of women like these.

It was a day full of joy, even if by the time we were done my feet were aching and my back sore. My heart was full to overflowing, like our pantries were going to be.

Coltor and Seir had been waiting for us on the glade side of the portal.

“Where are all the jars?” Seir asked when we stepped through, our arms linked but empty.

“They have to sit a while to be sure they seal properly.”

His shoulders sagged, expression positively crestfallen. “I was told there would be pickles.”

“We’ll bring our share in a few days.” Hailon promised with a laugh as we all started down the path.

“What else did you make?” Coltor asked after kissing my temple, his fingers threaded through mine.

“Jam. Vegetables. Beans. So much,” Hailon said.

“There were jars covering every counter in the kitchen and multiple tables in the dining room. No chance of getting ill from malnutrition or going hungry this winter,” I corroborated.

“There are pickles, though,” Hailon assured Seir. “Five different kinds.”

Seir perked back up. “I’ll try to be patient then.”

We said our goodbyes at the split in the path, and Coltor pulled me under his arm as we headed toward my cabin. As we came around the bend and my cabin came into view, I gasped.

“What on earth?”

Coltor was grinning. “They got quite far today. I was worried you’d come back early and catch the workers hurrying to leave.”

“What’s happening? Why is there another cabin being built right near mine?” Several small woodland creatures chirped excitedly then scattered as we approached.

He took my hand in his, kissing my palm as he gazed down at me. It was impossible not to melt under a stare like that. He could make me believe I was the only thing in the world just by looking at me. It was dangerous. Addictive. I loved it.

“Let me show you.”

We walked along the front, Coltor gesturing in illustration without ever letting go of my hand.

“The main room will be your office. Shelves all the way around for books, contracts, ledgers. Space for a desk, a sofa. The demons have agreed to continue on as your couriers, so you only need go to the crossroads when you like.”

“Kind of them,” I smiled.

“This will be a big window on the side. The glazer is working on the colored panes still.”

“Colored panes?”

“Like Ophelia’s, the one with the picture in it.”

My breath stalled in my throat. “You ordered me a stained-glass window?”

“Yes. I chose a botanical design that suits you. I think you’ll like it.”

“Why?” My heart was in my throat imagining the cost, and his thoughtfulness was making me emotional. The two together had me spiraling in confusion. “Coltor, that must have cost a fortune! I can’t afford?—”

“Don’t insult me, Firebird. I chose what I wanted to. There is no part of the cost that is in any way your responsibility, nor your concern.”

“But—”

“Merry. No.” He sighed, staring at me until I relented. “It seemed a fair price for the labor it will take. And you needed one. So, you’ll have one.”

“Needed one? For what?”

“Somewhere to greet the animals that will come. They always go to Ophelia’s pretty colored window, so…

” He shrugged again, like this logic was obvious.

We rounded the corner, and I could see that the rooms had been designed to sit at the front of the dwelling for a specific purpose.

The whole back side of the cabin sat lower than the rest and currently had no roof.

My chest squeezed as I puzzled out what it was for.

“A greenhouse?”

Coltor smiled and nodded. “For all your seedlings. You can raise even the trickiest plants, I’m told. The glazer is also working on the special panes for the roof and walls. And in a few weeks, they’ll be back to build Jacks a shelter. I only need you to tell me where you’d like it.”

“Coltor.” I marveled at the nearly completed rooms, a barrage of emotions flooding through me. I fought against the reflex to think I didn’t deserve such things, that surely this couldn’t all be meant for me. “I don’t even know what to say, this is incredible. How long have you been planning this?”

“Not that long. Though I will say the builders were all very pleased to have a reason to come back here to work. Took very little to convince them to take this project on.” He grinned.

“Finding a time when you’d be away long enough to make good progress so I could surprise you was the most challenging part. ”

“This is… There are no words. Thank you.” Tears prickled in my eyes.

“You’re welcome, Firebird.” He kissed my knuckles, a satisfied smile putting a twinkle in his eyes.

I stood on my toes and drew his face down to mine, reveling in the way his mouth immediately softened.

“Where are we spending our evening?” I asked. We rotated frequently, though lately he’d been spending more time at my cabin than I spent at his hut. I got the feeling he was beginning to separate himself from the little barrack, but having our own spaces worked for us. For now.

“Yours. After a day on your feet, we need the bigger tub. Or we could go to the pools.”

“Oh saints, a hot bath sounds so nice. Maybe another night for the pools, I don’t want to get chilled on the way back.”

“Come on then. I think there might even be something left to eat.” He tugged on my hand, pulling me close as we approached my porch.

My gaze caught on the fallow garden beds. They needed to be turned and replanted for spring soon. I could hardly believe all that had changed in the short time since I’d come to the glade.

Coltor gazed down at me from the porch, expression a perfectly serene mask of adoration and patience.

I took his hand, knowing that he’d lead me into the cabin and feed me dinner.

Then he’d run us a bath, wash my hair, and tease me without a shred of mercy while he got me clean and made sure I was nice and relaxed.

Then he’d take me to my bed, or the sofa, or the kitchen table, and dirty me right back up—several times—before curling his body around mine and allowing me to sleep better than I ever had.

And there was not a thing about that I would change or complain about.

As I stared at him, my night playing out in my mind, I realized what I was feeling in that moment was incredibly complicated and also impossibly simple.

My cabin, the glade, the gargoyle in it—they were home . And I would forever be grateful to have found it.