Heat flooded Esag's face. "I was cleaning." He cursed his skin's tendency to show every emotion with a flash of color. "I didn't want you to think I was a slob." He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "Not that I am one. Usually. But my roommates are not as fastidious as I am."
Tula's expression softened. "I think it's sweet that you cleaned just for me."
It was embarrassing, but he would take sweet and say thank you.
She shifted sideways to look behind him and smiled. "Are you going to invite me in, or should I come back later after you are done cleaning?"
"Right. Sorry. No. I mean, yes. Please come in." He stepped aside.
Tula walked past him into the living room, looking around with interest. "You did a good job. Everything smells so fresh. Like lemons and pine."
"Cleaning products," Esag said, then felt stupid for stating the obvious.
"I love how the village houses have so many windows and glass doors," Tula continued, walking over to the sliding doors to look out at the backyard. "So much natural light and fresh air."
Esag's heart ached thinking about the long years she'd spent living underground.
His expression must have registered because Tula turned back to him with a reassuring smile and a wave of her hand. "Don't look so horrified. We were not locked underground. We went outside almost every day for a walk in the gardens surrounding the harem. We felt the sun on our faces and breathed fresh air." She paused. "I would have lost my mind otherwise."
"Still," Esag said. "It was captivity."
"Yes. It was." She set her bag on the kitchen table. "But I'm free now, so let's not dwell on the past. I just need to catch up on the world that got away from me."
He nodded, admiring her positive attitude. Tula was a fighter. She'd always been one, even as a girl.
"Can I get you something to drink before we start?" he asked. "Water? Tea? I think I might have some orange juice left over."
"Maybe later." Tula's eyes darted around the room, taking in every little detail. "I want to see your workshop first."
Right. The workshop. Where all the figurines of her were waiting for her to critique.
He led her down the hallway to his bedroom, acutely aware of how intimate it felt to have her in this space. His bed was visible through the doorway—neatly made up but still obviously a bed.
"The workshop is actually in the walk-in closet," he explained, opening the door. "It's not much, but for now, it has all I need." He chuckled. "Though I have to admit that I was considering switching between the bedroom and the closet, making my workshop in the bedroom, and moving my bed into the closet."
"That's funny." Tula stepped inside, and Esag watched her face as she took in the shelves lining the walls, the workbench in the center, and the tools hanging in organized rows.
And the figurines.
So many figurines.
She moved slowly along the shelves, her fingers trailing near but not quite touching the carved wooden figures. Her expression was unreadable, and Esag realized that he was holding his breath, waiting for her response.
Then she stopped at the shelf where he'd grouped together all the versions of her.
The sheen in her eyes caught the light, and Esag realized she was tearing up.
She picked up one of the figurines, the one where she was laughing with her head thrown back, and examined it closely.
"It's astonishing," she whispered. "How you managed to capture my personality with so little detail and before even seeing me in person. I mean as an adult, not the young girl you remembered."
"But I did see you," Esag said. "Through the visions. While I was carving Wonder's figurine, your face kept appearing in the wood instead. I tried to fight it, but—" He shrugged helplessly. "The wood wanted to be you."
"The wood wanted to be me." Tula's lips quirked. "That's either very sweet or slightly insane."
"Maybe both."
She set down the laughing figure and picked up another. This one was more pensive. She had her hand at her throat, and hereyes were focused on some point in the distance. Esag had seen her make that gesture when deep in thought.
