Enrique startled. He had not imagined how much he would love the sound of that title.
“Thankyou,” he said, feeling his heart strain against his ribs.
“I KNOW WHATI want to do with my life,” Enrique announced hours later.
He stood at the threshold of the library where he, Hypnos, and Zofia had agreed to meet before heading down to dinner. Zofia was poking at the fire, while Hypnos was curled up on an armchair, a glass of red wine in his hand.
Hypnos raised an eyebrow. “Make babies?”
“No!”
“You don’t want children?” asked Zofia.
“Not at this particular moment, no,” said Enrique.
Hypnos took a long sip of wine. “Stealbabies.”
“Gods no!” said Enrique. “This has nothing to do with babies! Well, perhaps a little to do with children, but—”
“Now I’m confused,” said Zofia.
“I think I’d like to teach,” said Enrique before either Hypnos or Zofia could misconstrue his words any further. His words came out in a rush: “I like that scholarship inspires others to think for themselves and look at the world differently. I don’t want to simply try to change the world on my own by forcing my ideas on people… I’d much rather encourage them to think differently. I think that’s wherelastingchange will come from and… and I think I’d be a rather good professor.”
He waited for a moment, readying himself for their reactions.
“We knew that,” said Zofia.
“What?” spluttered Enrique.
“Truly, I cannot see why it has taken you so long to come to a conclusion that Zofia and I have already agreed would be the best use of your talents,” said Hypnos.
Enrique could not decide if he was more pleased or annoyed.
“Thank you for informing me,” he said.
“Such things are best discovered on one’s own,” said Hypnos. “Though I am curious… what made you realize such a thing?”
Enrique found himself thinking of the dream conversation he’d had with Laila. He thought of her catlike smile and the horizon of some other world illuminating her.
“I suppose you could say it’s because the idea filled me with light,” said Enrique.
41
SÉVERIN
Six months later
Séverin Montagnet-Alarie was no god. As such, he could not change the past, but that didn’t mean he could not break free of it.
Séverin stared out the window of his office, nervously turning a tin of cloves in his hands as he watched the winding, gravel path that led to the entrance of L’Eden. They would be here soon, and he wasn’t sure what they would make of the place…
It was the beginning of winter, and the city seemed more fragile in the brittle sunshine. On the far side of the lawns, workers dug holes and erected trellises, while others lay down tarp to protect the flowers. Next year, the trellises would boast roses of every hue and fragrance. But amidst all that riot of beauty, there was only one star in the garden.
It had taken Séverin and a team of gardeners the better part of a month to find a single surviving rose cane from the varietyTristan had once planted, and which Séverin had later ripped out of the ground and burned. Tristan had never named his roses, and so the duty fell to Séverin. Henceforth, that variety would forever be known asL’Enigme.
While some things had been rebuilt, others had been destroyed.
Gone was the Seven Sins Garden, and although some hotel guests might have mourned the loss of being able to say they had walked through hell and back in time for dinner, Séverin had found that he had enough of hell.
