She scoffed. ‘It is laughable you think you are in a position to be making offers tome—’
‘I promise I won’t pry into your business again, but I need something in return.’
‘You have a whole castle and half a mountain, what else could you need?’
‘Company.’
Of course I wanted to find out the reason she took me. Of course I wanted to know what happened to the men before me. But I would throw all of that aside not to be alone.
Her face fell. ‘No.’
‘Not all the time. Perhaps a few hours a day.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘You brought me here as a companion. Let me keep you company.’
She folded her arms. ‘You will get in my way.’
‘I won’t. I might even be helpful.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘Wouldn’t you prefer to keep an eye on me so I can’t pry?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You try to goad me. I do not like it.’ She tapped her foot, considering, bare sole slapping against the flagstones. ‘I will take breakfast with you.’
‘And then I will join you in your study in the evenings.’
‘No—’
‘Yes. I will keep myself occupied and you can do whatever it is you do.’
The Witch did not look happy. But nor was she flying into a rage again. I had been right: she was as lonely as I was.
‘And you will stop your prying?’
I offered my hand with a nod.
Reluctantly, she took it. ‘Very well. I agree to this bargain.’
Palm to palm, fingers twined, we bound ourselves to each other again.
But this time, I felt something very different.
Hope.
IX
Breakfast had never seemed so loaded a meal as it did that next morning. I woke well before dawn and dressed myself in the dark, fingers fumbling over buttons and ties, too early for any maid to assist me. I had proposed this new plan and if it ended badly it would be on my head.
I had informed Wolf the night before of the change in arrangements and, as I had requested, an empty room on the ground floor had been turned into a breakfast parlour for the Witch and me. I had chosen the room due to its windows facing south-east, framing one swathe of the valley and mountainside. The castle was undoubtedly well positioned with the bulk of the mountain to the north and the river valley snaking south. From this vantage point perched above the tree line, we would see the best of both dawn and dusk, and even the short winter days could flood the right room with light.
There was a round table made of rosy cherry wood in the centre and two chairs with plump cushions pulled up on either side. Wolf had set places for two and was delivering plates of cheese and ham and butter as I came in. I adjusted forks and inspected the cups for chips or stains. I was almost entirely sure the Witch wouldn’t notice a damn thing, but I wanted to make our fresh start a good one. My mother, when she had been at her best, had insisted on breakfast every morning, the two of us together at a table in the bay window of her apartment. My father was always away on business, or tied up in meetings, so we made what family we could together, sharing honey from the hives in the palace grounds, jam made from fruit we had gathered together. When her mood slipped again, I would sit at the same breakfast table, set out the same jars and plates and wait for her. She wouldn’t come, but I waited for her all the same. There had been nothing else to do. She was my mother, and even the dim, tenuous love she offered was better than nothing at all.
I had none of the richness of the Summer Palace at my disposal now, but I wanted to show the Witch that company was a gift, not a burden.
As Wolf set down a steaming pot of coffee, I realised what was missing. From the kitchen I plucked up dried herbs and flowers – sage for wisdom, rosemary for remembrance, dandelion for happiness and chamomile for patience – and brought them back to the breakfast room to arrange in a jar in the middle of the table. It was only a little snatch of the garden brought inside, but it made my heart calmer to see it.
