And then I remembered… I wasn’t in my room at the Crawfords’ any more. I was in the tower room at Briarwood Castle. I was there because the Crawfords were dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
I touched my hand to my cheek, remembering how I’d cried last night after Arthur kissed me. My eyes and nose stung from all the tears, but it was a good kind of pain.
For the first time since they died, I’d actually felt the raw fury of grief.
Now, the numbness ate away at my body once again, and there was a teeny bit of excitement peeking around the edges of it, which was concerning. I was supposed to be at Briarwood to mourn and sort my life out, and I’d only been here one day and I was more confused than ever.
Lusting after all my housemates, kissing Arthur, being attacked by strange men with crystal eyes and fingers that turned into claws…
…and this beautiful room they made for me…
I rubbed my eyes and sat up, gazing in wonder at the space around me. The guys really had gone all out. They couldn’t have guessed better at my tastes. I slid out of bed and went over to the desk. A huge stack of books on the end caught my eye – all science titles. A note was pinned to the top, the handwriting even and spiky.
“For when you decide to return to your studies – Corbin.”
My cheeks glowed as I read the note. I ran my fingers along the spine of the first book – a selection of essays on astrophysics. But how did Corbin know what I was going to study? Maybe the lawyer had told him…
Another note caught my eye. This one was in a different handwriting, loopy and crooked. It was pinned to the wall beside an amazing piece of art I hadn’t noticed yesterday – a round lattice of metal leaves and vines, all twisted and folded around each other.
I stepped closer, and my heart thudded as I realized what it was.
A star map.
Each tiny leaf marked the position of a star in the British sky. Hidden in the vines were animals, each one intricately sculpted from iron – a scorpion, a bear, a swan…the constellations.
A note was pinned to the bottom. I peeled it off.
“I’m calling this piece ‘frolicking.’ Fancy a frolic, love?” - Flynn
I smiled. Of course it was Flynn.
A divine smell wafted under my nose. I looked down and noticed something on the small table below Flynn’s note – a tall, thick beeswax candle, the wax mottled with swirls of red andorange. I picked it up and sniffed it, inhaling the heavenly scent of musk and cardamon. A small box of matches and a wrought-iron candle-snuffer sat beside it, along with a square of paper.
The paper simply read, “From Arthur” in a beautiful old-fashioned cursive script. My heart soared. I sniffed the air again. That amazing smell wasn’t only coming from the candle. I turned around, scanning the room. But where?—
A tray of food sat on the bedside table. Scones piled high on a plate beside porcelain bowls of clotted cream and beautiful chunky strawberry jam. I remembered that Rowan was the cook, and wondered if he’d baked them himself.
Did the guys sneak in here this morning and place these gifts? My cheeks flushed. I hope they didn’t see me with the sheets kicked off. I slept naked.
My chest fluttered. Or maybe Ididhope they saw me.
Maybe I hoped that very much.
I lathered up a couple of the scones and bit into one. Mmmmm, heavenly. All buttery and soft and fluffy. Why didn’t we eat scones in America? I’ll take scones over pancakes any day of the week.
When I finished the scones, I tossed on some clothes, and took the tray and my laptop bag down the back staircase to the kitchen. When I opened the hidden door, I was surprised to see Rowan standing at the butcher’s block, expertly cutting up a stack of tomatoes and throwing them into a giant pot.
“Hey, you’re awake.” He smelled like warm spices and fresh vegetables. His warm smile melted me like a buttery scone. “Do you want a cup of tea? I can put the kettle on.”
“Sure.” I shrugged, suddenly nervous. “I’ve never actually had tea before.”
Rowan leaned across to the sink and meticulously scrubbed his hands before flicking an electric kettle on and assembling some teacups. “I hope the breakfast was okay. I think scones aremuch nicer warm from the oven, but I didn’t want to disturb your sleep after that long flight.”
He stuttered over a couple of his words, and he wouldn’t look at me while he spoke, but it didn’t bother me. I was just happy for his company.
“The flight wasn’t the half of it.” I yawned, collapsing into the high stool opposite him and sliding my tray onto the bench. “It’severything. I think my brain is even more tired than my body. I’m still struggling with the whole fairies are real and my housemates beat them up thing, but I think I’ve come up with a way to resolve it. The scones were delicious. Did you bake them?”
