“Very funny,” she said, pulling out onto Elm and heading back toward Rosethorn Valley.
“What you did back there,” he said. “You couldn’t have done that without magic.”
“Sure I could,” she said. “I did. It was just a matter of figuring out what was wrong and then resolving it.”
“How did you know what was wrong?” he asked.
How could he look into her soul this way?
She had never told anyone about her process. She never even thought about it herself if she could help it. Somehow, thinking too hard about it always seemed like it might ruin things.
Like it might spoil the magic.
But it wasn’t real magic, was it?
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.
“My point is proven, then,” he said.
She could hear his smirk.
They drove on in silence for some time, finally reaching Rosethorn Valley Road, crossing the creek and heading toward the museum.
“This is where you live?” he broke the silence to ask.
“Yes,” she replied.
“It says it’s a museum,” he pointed out.
“I’m renting rooms here,” she said.
She didn’t say the rest - that her family bought her the entire building, and that the only rented rooms in the place were the ones she rented out to the museum for a dollar a year.
It was one thing to have money you hadn’t earned. It was another for people to know about it and judge you.
It was impossible for the residents of Rosethorn Valley not to know the Barnes family had money. But Tabitha would never flaunt how much of it was hers. If she had learned anything from her conservative parents, it was how to live in a way that didn’t make her stand out too much.
“A normal life is a luxury, Tabitha,” her father would say as he refused her whatever outrageous outfit or piece of jewelry she had asked for in high school. “The minute you give it up, you’ll realize what you’ve lost. It’s not going to happen on my watch.”
Tabitha got out of the car and slipped the building key out of her pocket, Tristan trailing close behind.
The museum took up the whole front portion of the building, including the two-story high studio where she and Tim spent their days tending to business.
But the back included a turret and a bedroom wing with a finished attic. That was where Tabitha stayed.
Her hope was that one day, the museum would gather enough local artifacts that she would have to move to a regular apartment. But for now, she loved living in the amazing old house so close to the beautiful things she spent her life restoring.
“Interesting,” Tristan remarked as they entered the base of the turret.
Tabitha threw her keys on the table and they went into her living space.
There were no walls between the living room, dining room and kitchen. A beamed ceiling made the place feel cozy. Four large windows, each with a big window seat, flanked the big open space.
“I’ll show you to your room,” she offered.
He nodded approvingly as he took it all in.
He looked oddly at home here, his big body making the open space feel a little cozier, his golden hair gleaming in the dim light from the floor lamp.
He was still carrying his two shopping bags of new clothing.
She found herself glad they had taken care of that task right away. She wasn’t a small woman, but she literally didn’t have one piece of clothing that would have any hope of fitting him.
“This way,” she said, heading for the staircase behind the kitchen.
The route was a little tight for someone the size of Tristan. It had clearly been designed for servants. Even Tabitha had to duck a little.
“Watch your head,” she suggested over her shoulder.
His heavy footsteps followed.
At the top of the stairs, a hallway led past three bedrooms and a bath, all the way back to the guest bedroom in the turret.
“That’s my room,” Tabitha said as they passed the master suite. “If you need anything, just knock.”
He nodded, looking into the room with some interest.
There was relatively little there. Tabitha did nothing in her room but sleep. It was furnished with some of her old stuff from her childhood bedroom. He certainly couldn’t be admiring the decor.
She flushed, wondering if he might be interested in her bedroom for other reasons.
“That’s the room I use for an office,” she said, pointing to the next door in the corridor. “And here’s the hall bath.”
“Your quarters are spacious,” he remarked. “Your landlady must be generous.”
She had no idea how to answer that, so she chose not to.
They passed another bedroom and then the door to the upper turret.
“Here we go. This is yours,” she said. “At least for now.”
She opened the door to reveal the large, round room.
The floor was a lovely finished pine and the ceiling vaulted up to the conical roof of the turret. Huge banks of windows all around the room revealed the night sky and the treetops surrounding the museum.
Against the only flat wall in the room was a big four-poster bed with a closet next to it.
“Yes, this is acceptable.” The King of Light smiled and nodded slowly. “Very nice, mortal.”
Damned right it was acceptable. Tabitha would have had this as her own room except that she was accustomed to having an attached bath.
“Glad you like it,” she said, turning to go. “See you in the morning.”
“Wait,” he said.
The word split the air between them and suddenly she was struck by a shiver of the electricity she’d felt the moment they met this morning.
“Do you need help getting settled?” she asked innocently.
“Yes, please,” he said.
She turned on her heel and headed for the closet. “You can put your clothing in here. Let’s get those tags off.”
He handed her the bags and she spread out his new things on the bed.
“These are nice,” she told him as she demonstrated how to pop off the tags and peel the size stickers off.
“Your human garments are very practical,” he allowed.
“Definitely,” she agreed. “And they’re easy to clean.”
“When does the maid come?” he asked.
“We take care of ourselves in this realm,” she told him, trying not to smile.
“You launder your own garments?” he asked in horror.
“Yes, but we have machines that wash and dry the clothing,” she said. “I’m not down in the creek beating my laundry against the stones or anything.”
“You humans and your ingenious machines,” he said with a smile.
“Well, it’s all born of laziness, but it’s nice,” she agreed.
They began hanging his clothing in the closet.
His few items looked a little lonely in there.
The thought of it hit her hard.
He was alone here. He knew no one but his brother, and they obviously had a very complicated relationship.
“What are you thinking about, Tabitha Barnes?” he asked softly.
The deep, resonant sound of her name in his mouth made her insides flutter.
“It’s just been a long day,” she said quietly.
“You didn’t answer my earlier question,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the spot next to him.