“Good,” replied Cecily brightly. Then she stood from the table. “Come on, Aline. Let me show you where to find a bed that didn’t have a rotten collector on it.”
As they left hand in hand, Lux dropped her head into her own. She massaged her temples, thinking of all that would need to be fixed. Every lending library that had hindered rather than helped. The body of each attendant gone to the Beyond following their soul’s departure. The repairs Mothlock required, and Alix Alesso’s continued presence.
The mountain of books in Grimrook House.
Grimrook House.
How she already loved its dark rose garden, glass room, and proximity to the sea. How she daydreamed of sitting beside Shaw in front of the fireplace, a cup of tea in her hands.
She thought of it so vividly, she could almost touch it.
Her path.
Her dream.
And Lux did not second-guess it even for a moment. She shoved herself from the table and followed.
Chapter fifty-seven
TheorganizationofGrimrookHouse’s many books was going to take a year of her life—Lux was convinced of it. She blew dust from the cover of yet another subject in which she had no interest, and stacked it atop yet another pile. The former bandits were busy reorganizing Mothlock’s Manuscripts in Loxlen. She needed to give them more material.
She’d decided the businesses were going to stay open, but managed by a different society. One of feathers rather than fortune. One that wanted to teach instead of trick. As far as the second Alesso—she hadn’t been sure he’d accept what she offered, considering the traumas he’d been subjected to, but he’d seemed eager to continue the path he’d set upon two centuries prior. She was more than happy to hand Mothlock Manor over to him.
Grimrook House, however…
Lux stood and stretched, her gaze sweeping the lit hall. She didn’t care for shadowed spaces, and had ensured every lampwas alight as soon as the sun began to set. Twilight would not be grey and dark here.
A creaking drew her attention, and Shaw emerged from the staircase. In his hands were two steaming cups.
“You’ve made a lot of progress,” he said, glancing at her stacks. “Care for a break?”
Lux dusted her hands, and started toward him. “It’ll take me through the winter,” she whined.
“You could have Aline and Cecily help. They’re not doing much up at the manor other than getting in Alesso’s way.”
“That’s the opposite of what he says. He told me Aline has built a lamp that’s powered by hand instead of fire and oil.”
Shaw’s eyes, mended and whole, widened. “But does it also explode or blind?”
She shook her head. “Completely nondestructive.”
“Who would have thought.” He pressed the teacup into her hand.
Lux traced the murder of crows as they beat their wings across the porcelain. She sipped the tea and moaned. “What did you put in this?”
“You like it?” His gaze dipped to her mouth. He wiped a droplet with the pad of his thumb. “Roses from the garden. And honey.”
Lux cleared her throat. “How is your project coming?”
“I finished.”
“Every room?”
“Even the conservatory. Care to see?”
She frowned at her own project, far from complete. “I could use a break, I suppose.”
She stepped, and her toe connected with the protruded spine of a book. Lux glanced down. Her stare narrowed. Then she bent and reached, pulling it out completely. This place really was a mess.
