Page 41 of House of Roots and Ruin
“Black wraiths,” Gerard said, pointing toward the patch in case I’d somehow missed them. “They bloom at night, only under the strongest moonbeams.”
Squinting, I could just make out their shape, swooping petalsthat looked drawn by a childish hand. They were so dark blue, they blended into the night, leaving their white ringed center on full and horrible display.
“We used to have an old horned owl that lived somewhere near here. A giant beast, wingspan longer than my arms. It was incredible to see but the brute kept destroying my flowerbeds. He’d scoop up great clumps of earth in his talons every time he dove after an unsuspecting vole and rip out the marigolds I’d spent seasons cultivating. I planted these along his favorite haunts and he’s never bothered us again.”
“They’re terrifying,” I said, stooping down to get a better glimpse. “I would never have guessed them flowers. They look more like—”
“Demons,” Gerard filled in. “I got the seeds from a traveler who claimed they’d been secreted out of the Sanctum. Can you imagine what sort of things grow in the land of the gods?”
I shook my head even as I glanced about the garden, morphing the darkened shapes into more fantastical forms, things that grew too big, too fast, tooeverythingfor our world.
“What wonders I could create…what dazzling marvels…”
“Do you really think you could transform the gods’ gardens into something better?” I wanted to keep my voice as light and witty as Gerard’s but his easy impertinence left me with a dark, squirming sense of discontent.
“My dear Verity, I don’t think,” he said with an impish wink. “I know.”
“Don’t you ever worry Seland might overhear all this and decide to come after you?” I pictured the god of earth stomping about through Gerard’s gardens, plucking him into the air as afarmer would harvest carrots. “He made the flowers and trees a certain way for a reason.”
“Yes, but they werehisreasons. He made our world for himself but then retreated into another. He’s not been seen in a millennia, even on his holiest of feast days. He left all this a particular way but I dare to imagine it better. I am like a god watching over this estate, crafting and creating it for my needs. My desires.” He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing the pomade’s hold, as he surveyed his domain. His lips curled, pleased with what he saw, and I tried not to shiver. “But come, come. Dauphine will have my head if I keep you out too late. There’s a shortcut this way….”
He led me to a little path on the back end of the garden.
“We cut across here and…” He glanced back, sensing I wasn’t beside him. His gaze followed mine. “Oh, yes, of course.”
A cluster of tombstones had stopped me in my tracks. They’d been nestled under the sweeping branches of a willow tree, like chicks tucked under their mother’s wings. The quartz headers sparkled in the moonlight, glowing an otherworldly white.
The spacing was wrong, too close together, too close to the house. “Are those…pets?”
He sucked in his lower lip. “Those are…well…those are my children.”
My heart stopped, flooding with embarrassment. I’d clearly misunderstood Alex’s conversation earlier. Dauphine must have tried for more children, so many times. I took a step toward him, fumbling to repair any damage my mistake had caused. “I’m so sorry for…so many losses,” I murmured, counting the small stones, nine in total.
He shook his head as if the sight no longer bothered him. “They weren’t…They just weren’t meant to be.”
Together, we stared at the little markers and my heart ached for him. I’d never met anyone so determined on fixing and improving the world around him, but some things were beyond even Gerard Laurent’s grasp.
“It’s growing late,” he murmured after an appropriate moment of silence. “We really should be going.”
“Thank you for showing me the wraiths,” I said once we were back inside, in the now-too-bright gaslights. I blinked hard against their glare, swirls of color spotting my vision. “And the Calli…Calla…the Constance.”
He stiffened, glancing about as if worried we might be overheard. “I don’t…upon further reflection, I’m not sure that’s entirely the right name for them. I shall have to ponder that a bit more. This way,” he said, and pressed a bit of floral molding along the hallway’s wainscoting.
A section of the wall swung open, revealing a narrow staircase.
“A secret passage!” I exclaimed.
Gerard shook his head. “That makes it sound far more mysterious than it is. When my ancestors built Chauntilalie, they didn’t want to see any traces of the staff needed to manage such a large estate. All of the servants’ staircases were hidden away, to not disrupt the beauty of the house.”
“Oh.” My voice was colored with disappointment. Such a prosaic explanation.
“Careful on the treads. They’re quite a steep,” he said, ducking in first. “I’ve greatly appreciated your assistance,” he mentioned over his shoulder as we twisted up the spiral staircase. Hiswords echoed against the stone walls. “It will be quite useful to have so many images for reference later. It was quite enjoyable working with you. I hope that one day…perhaps Alexander will find a bride with your talent and mind.”
I didn’t know what else to do but nod and hope my agreement wasn’t taken as vanity.
“I imagine your dance card to be quite full,” he mused, reaching the top of the stairs. He pushed open the door, revealing the hallway just outside my suite of rooms. “If you don’t mind my metaphor.”
“Oh…no,” I stammered. “There’ve been no…partners.”
