“Each of the hobbies has brought me great joy at one point or another. You’re welcome to try any that interest you.”
“When was the last time you got to spend any time in here?” I asked, running my finger along the hearth, cutting a line through a decent layer of dust.
He frowned in concentration. “It’s been… a while. Inspiration has been as sparse, as has free time.”
“Thank you for showing me.” I glanced around, trying to decide where I wanted to start.
“My pleasure. I mean what I said, please make yourself at home in here. And not just to organize books,” he looked me in the eye, expression serious. “You have leisure time, Phin, make use of it. The deals aren’t going anywhere, and you don’t have to spend every waking hour working. That’s not the intention or the nature of this arrangement.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“When is your leisure time?”
“I…” His lips flattened. “My schedule is unusual. I would never ask anyone else to hold the same hours I do. That would be cruel.”
“But you could take some time away if you wanted?”
He pushed at his glasses, fingers twitching at his sides. “I suppose arrangements could be made, yes.”
“So, you’ll join me?” I asked, flushing hot when I realized how forward that question sounded. “I mean, I don’t know what half the tools do. I’d like it if you could show me or explain some of them at least.”
“Hold still.” He lifted a hand, reaching out to pluck something off my collar. “Yours?” He spun a small silver feather between his fingers. I groped along my back with one arm, blushing furiously. I’d felt the painful prickle of some breakthrough feathers when I had my last episode, but hadn’t thought they’d come all the way in.
“Yes.”
“It’s a lovely color. Matches your hair.” His head tilted to the side. “When was the last time you stretched your wings, Phin? I’m guessing that was not allowed while you were in disguise?”
I tensed. “No, I couldn’t.” For several reasons. “It’s been a long time.”
He frowned and nodded, still twirling the feather. To my shock, instead of handing it to me, he pulled it through the buttonhole on his vest pocket, using it as his own adornment.
My mind stuttered, wondering if demons had the same unspoken language as angels about some things. I assumed they might, as he was technically a fallen angel. But still, surely he didn’t mean it as the courting gesture it was. Did he?
“I’ll try my best to make some time,” he said, interrupting my mental spiral.
Tap walked me back to my room, bade me goodnight with a bow, and continued on toward the main hall. I glanced back theother direction, realizing that the seemingly normal hallway was like some of the walls off the living area and great hall—there was no visible end, just a vague fade into blackness and a sense of there being something solid just out of sight.
The workshop door was on the side of the hallway where Tap’s room was, but there was another across from it on mine. Now that I knew what beautiful madness the workshops door contained, I tried not to wonder too hard about what might be behind the other.
Chapter 11
Tap
“You’re making excellent progress,” I commented as I entered the library. One whole side of the table now had fully visible chairs.
Phin turned around, pleased by the compliment. “You think so? I can’t wait until I can see this whole table. It’s a lovely piece. Did you make it too?”
I shook my head. “No, this set is well beyond my abilities. The dining table and chairs in the kitchen is as far as I got. I learned pretty quickly that my strengths lie in much smaller pieces.”
“Well, it’s got a beautiful grain.” She paused to wipe at her eyes, and my chest tightened.
“Are you well? Is the dust bothering you?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. My eyes are just tired. I just didn’t stop to rest or wash up like I normally do. I did six crates today. I think that’s a personal best.”
“Very likely, that’s quite a lot to be sure. If the dust bothers you?—”
