Page 66 of Sweetling
His look soured. “Honestly, no. They have defecated on me once too often.”
Molly bent in half laughing, startling the pigeons and Allarion, too. It was a while before she got her humor under control.
As Allarion began his work, Molly called up, “Why do you have to do this manually? Why can the house not…fix itself?”
The questions felt so silly in her mouth, the words in a ridiculous order and pairing, but Allarion’s shadow nodded as if she made perfect sense.
“The house is an entity unto itself and can only control what makes it up. Its rooms are like its limbs, and everything inside it makes up the body. It has no control over what is not part of it, so until new materials are added to it, it cannot, say, replace shingles.”
Molly’s brows rose, surprised over how much sense that actually made.
“So, once it’s added to the house, it becomes part of the house?”
“Exactly that.”
“So…all my things I put away this morning are now part of the house?”
His hammering stopped abruptly, and his pale face appeared again over the eaves. Those dark eyes bore down on her. Molly held still, her heart fluttering with an excited little thrill.
“Did you?” he asked softly.
“I did. Does that mean my things are now the house’s?”
“They are still yours,” he assured her.
Indeed, when Molly went to her bedchamber to fetch her embroidery project, she found that the clothes she’d stored away in the armoire and trunk were freshly washed and ironed for her.
“How…?”
The shutters rattled in a happy cacophony, and Molly couldn’t help laughing along.
“Well, thank you! That saves me some chafed fingers.”
She headed back to the fourth level in awe. No laundry! Other than feeding herself, she had so few chores to keep busy. She truly would need to find something to occupy herself, which was why she’d retrieved her project.
Setting up a stool, Molly sat on the balcony, enjoying the cool autumn afternoon, a shawl around her shoulders and her embroidery in her lap as she chatted with Allarion on the roof.
They talked about a little of everything. She learned he was one of five siblings, with two elder sisters and two younger brothers. In his years after leaving service, he went to each of his siblings, hoping to find purpose and inspiration in what they did. While he learned a great deal from each that proved useful, none of it was a true calling like that of being a warrior had been when he was young.
“Now, though,” he said, peering down at her to flash those fangs in a toothy grin, “I feel it all over again.”
“Found a passion for home renovation, have you?”
He chuckled at her joke. “Indeed, all the human nobles will glow with envy to see my skill.”
Molly laughed as she bit off her green thread. It was time to start with the red.
She took breaks to eat and stretch her legs, yet she was still amazed when the sun began to set over the trees. Allarion inserted the final few shingles as the sky, shot through with violet and saffron, deepened with impeding night.
They’d spent the whole day chatting while working on their projects. Molly had nearly finished her sleeve, impressed with her progress. It was amazing what having the time to devote to something could do.
Allarion levered himself back onto the balcony, looking as pleased as a cat who’d swallowed a bird. His silvery hair had been mussed and stuck to his skull with sweat in places, and his pale face was smudged with grime.
Grinning, Molly pulled out a kerchief to wipe his face.
It wasn’t until she’d placed the cloth to his cheek that she noticed how positively still he’d gone. Her eyes snapped to his, and they stared at each other as she finished cleaning him off.
Her hand lingered on his cheek, the contour so sharp and inhuman. She almost wished…the cloth didn’t separate them.
