Page 24 of When the Weaver Met the Gargoyle

We eat in companionable silence, making sounds of delight until we meet eyes again andlaugh at ourselves. The hearth snaps as the magical storm hits. The room’s one window shows regular rain mixed with the sparkling colors of a magical tempest. As the colors tap the thick glass, I set my plate on my lap and ease sideways to better look at Rom. I want to lean into his warmth and savor the safety of his presence, but I behave myself.

I lift my wine and take a healthy swallow. It’s delightful. If moonlight had a taste, it would be this—light in body and flooded with a mysterious layered flavor. “I’ve asked you a bunch about gargoyles and your life, so I should share something about me. What do you want to know?”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“One sister, but we don’t talk.”

“Why?” His deep voice eases the discomfort I feel about this line of conversation.

It’s not as if I don’t want to tell him about myself, but it’s not a fun subject. “Our parents were farmers in the human realm beyond the Veil. I hated farm life.”

“Was the work too much?” he asks, his tone not judgemental or harsh, just curious. “I know it’s a very physical occupation.”

“No, that wasn’t the problem. I just didn’t like being so far away from town. Eventhough I like being alone, I enjoy having people around me. Does that make sense?”

He eats the last of his serving. “It does.”

“Do you ever invite friends up here? I can imagine the tower gets lonely.”

“Besides Rustion, you’re the only one I talk to.”

“Aw, Rom. You should make some friends.”

“I don’t know. Let’s talk about you more. What does the farm have to do with you not speaking to your sister? I mean, only answer if you want.”

“It’s fine. She hates that I left. Our parents passed away, and now she manages the whole place on her own, and she wishes I would take part in that. But I just can’t. I’m miserable there. I hate losing animals to the nature of farming. I get too attached to the pigs and sheep. And the whole lonely thing. I also really enjoy the magic here and the varying types of creatures. Like gargoyles,” I say, smiling.

He gives me a sad smile back. I wish he wasn’t so down on his kind.

I continue my explanation. “Plus, I never had enough time to weave on the farm, and that’s my true passion.”

His smile is better now, real and wide. I want to lean in and kiss that smile.

“When was the last time you tried to contact her?” he asks.

“Sorina hasn’t spoken to me since the day I told her I was officially going to walk through the Blessed Stones and into the Veiled Kingdoms. I sent her a note last harvest. Like all of the times I’ve sent her messages, she never answered.”

My chest constricts at the loss. We had fun together during our childhood, climbing trees and doing our best to avoid chores. Once, she stole a pie for me from the lord’s window on my birthday.

“You should try again,” Rom says.

I wrinkle my nose, and my heart feels heavy. “But she’s so angry. Even if I showed up, she’d slam the door in my face. I know it.”

“If you ever want to go, to try again, I’d be happy to be by your side.”

“That’s so kind,” I say. “Thank you.”

“It’s what friends do.”

Friends.Hmm. It’s fine. It is. This is how it should be. But… I down the rest of my wine and summon my courage. I just want to know if he truly thinks we could maybe be together.

“What you said the other night…” My face ison fire.

Rom clears his throat. “You mean after we…uh…when I was leaving?”

“Yes? I think.” We laugh at ourselves. “Maybe I’m being ridiculous. Can we possibly just try to court one another?” I can’t believe I just said that and meant it. “You didn’t hurt anyone or break a single thing when we, well, you know.”

A smear of pink colors, his gray cheeks, and his dimples appear. “I’m nervous about this for a multitude of reasons, but maybe. I just don’t want to hurt you.”