“It’s quaint.”Edmund observed the surrounding buildings, which were a hodgepodge of different architectural designs.Some cottages were shaped cylindrically, others a more traditional rectangle, some with roofs of thatched straw and others of lopsided slate shingles.It was all so different from the uniform, regal streets of fashionable Delibera that Edmund was surely used to—in a charming way, I hoped.
Maddox was quiet, studying the rocky path and fields with a contemplative air.I wasn’t sure if he was taking his duty as a guard extra seriously, or if he had been rendered speechless by the sights.
I approached the door, raising my hand hesitantly.My first day back at Witch Village as myself.Hopefully, it would be a quiet affair.Luckily, it was deserted this time of day, so no nosey witches were looking our way.
I squeezed my eyes shut and knocked thrice.
“Just a moment!”came a muffled voice.
The door burst open.A strapping young man stood at the threshold, a crate of red and orange bell peppers in his tanned arms, his dark hair curling over the tops of his ears.His brown eyes widened.Before I knew it, the bell peppers were on the ground and I was yanked into a violently tight embrace.
“Gigi!”Alexander exclaimed, lifting me off my feet.“Blazing fires, I didn’t think you were ever coming back!”
I wriggled out of his grasp.He looked the same as he did nine months ago, all farm-work muscles and boyish smiles.He was wearing the same oatmeal linen shirt he wore seven days out of the week, the collar yellow with sweat stains.I tried not to make a face.
Another thing I didn’t like about the village: the fashion was lacking.
“Didn’t you get my letter?Your grandfather must’ve said I was coming too,” I said, smoothing out the front of my waistcoat.
He shrugged.“Well, yes, but I didn’t think you wereactuallycoming.Or that you would bring...”he trailed off, looking past my shoulder at Maddox and Edmund who were standing silently behind me.
I realized a beat too late that they were waiting to be introduced.I had forgotten such formalities existed aboveground.Witches usually introduced themselves.
“This is Mr.Edmund de Clare, the emissary, and our guard, Maddox Greenwood,” I said awkwardly.“I’m assuming Ferdinand informed you about our assignment?”
Alexander raised his brows.“Ah, of course!”
He managed a cheerful inquiry about our travels, though the smile splitting his face earlier had fallen slightly at the corners.I hoped Edmund didn’t notice.
“Please come inside,” Alexander said.“Your rooms are prepared and—oh, Gio, come and say hello to our guests!This is my younger brother, Giovanni.”
A ten-year-old boy peeked out from behind Alexander’s muscled frame.Gio was almost the spitting image of his brother, but paler with rounder cheeks.He had grown taller since the last time I saw him, the top of his head already surpassing my shoulder.
“Hi, Gigi,” Gio said with a shy smile.He peered at the two men behind me.“Hi, guests.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, Gio had accompanied Ferdinand to Celeste’s show at the Grand Alevine Opera last winter.No wonder he was back here.The poor boy was probably traumatized.
“A pleasure to meet you both,” Edmund said with a bow.Gio, who looked taken aback by such a flourish, retreated swiftly inside.
Alexander helped us lug our trunks into the sitting room.It was neatly furnished, all light blues, yellows, and creams.There was a faded rug on the wooden floor, patterned with tiny orange carrots.
Gio split off to show Maddox to his room while Alexander led Edmund upstairs.I followed, thinking it was best for me to chaperone, in case Alexander said something to make the other man nervous, like Miriam had.
“Here you are, sir,” Alexander said, opening the door to a little attic bedroom.The walls were painted a soft blue.
Edmund inclined his head.“Thank you very much, Mr.Alexander.”
Alexander stood by somewhat awkwardly as Edmund placed his suitcases on the wooden floorboards.“Well, if that’s all...”He gave a brief, stilted bow and headed back down the stairs.I rolled my eyes, reminding myself to teach him about proper greetings later.
Edmund sat gingerly at the edge of his bed.The mattress gave an ungodly creak.I grimaced, assessing the low, slanted ceiling and the abundance of floral motifs in the wallpaper, bedsheets, and rug.The room was fit for a little old lady, certainly not Edmund with his tall stature and impeccable fashion.These accommodations must be below the standards he was used to.
I walked over to the little writing desk and stool pushed underneath the round attic window, right beside the bed.
“I know it’s not much,” I said in a low voice, not wanting Alexander to overhear, “but I hope you can make yourself comfortable here.”
Edmund smiled, crossing one of his legs over the other.The top of his head was nearly brushing the ceiling.“The sights are quite charming.I’ll think of it as a cozy weekend away.”
I smiled back—it was impossible not to when his eyes crinkled just so at the corners.He was so polite.“Alexander is a wonderful cook.The meals here will be fantastic.Tomorrow, we’ll show you the fields.”
