Page 22 of Alec

She wondered if Ava had a grudge against the war master. “I’m just going by how he treats me.”

“That’s the thing I can’t figure out. When I got here I thought he might drag me down to the dungeons for a little interrogation session.” She tilted her head. “Only when you came along, he did a one-eighty and behaved like your personal guard dog.”

“I didn’t ask him to.” Olivia hated how stiff she sounded, but she didn’t like how Ava was talking about Alec. “I believe that he was reacting to how frightened I was at the time. Now that I’ve calmed down he seems to be keeping his distance.”

Ava shook her head and jerked her thumb toward the chamber door. “I’ll bet you a million dollars he’ll be out there tonight pacing back and forth.”

She blinked, confused. “Why would he do that?”

“It’s what he did last night, and the night before that.” The other woman smiled a little. “I know because the men who guard the stronghold at night report whatever they see to my husband every morning.”

“But there’s no reason for him to personally watch over me,” Olivia said. “I’m safe here, aren’t I?”

“As safe as the rest of us.” She set down her mug. “If our war master starts crowding you too much, you come see me, and I’ll talk to him.”

Ava was speaking as if Alec were some kind of stalker, which Olivia knew had to be wrong. “He’s just being a medieval male, really. Women were pretty much helpless in his time, so this is maybe how he thinks he has to protect us.”

“Not us, just you.” As she frowned Ava added, “He barely speaks to me—and he likes me now—but hardly says a word to other women. I’ve asked around discreetly. He’s never treated any female this way. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s sweet on you.”

She wanted to be flattered by that revelation, but even with the changes to her body there was nothing special about her. Alec would want someone who was at least as stunning as he was.

“I was terrified and in horrible pain when I fell into the trap, and shocked when I saw you alive and well and the way my body had changed,” she reminded the other woman. “I’m sure when he saw the state I was in he was only trying to calm me down. He hasn’t come back to see me, either.”

The other woman considered that for a moment before she said, “I hope that’s the case, because our war master is not an easy man to know.” She met her gaze. “I’m not trying to insult you, Liv, or imply anything. Just be careful with him.”

No one except the people at work had ever given her a nickname, Olivia thought. What an appropriate one, too.

“I’m glad you said something.” Then, because the other woman hadn’t asked, she said, “You’re curious about why I was so small before I came here. I don’t talk about that with anyone, but I assume Ben guessed what it is.”

Ava smiled. “You don’t have to tell me anything until you want to share it. If that’s never, that’s fine, too. We all have secrets that we’d rather keep to ourselves.”

Long after Ava left Olivia thought about what she’d said. If she was going to be trapped here forever, she would need to make friends. Because only Alec and a few other people knew she had been physically changed by the spell trap, she need never talk about what her body and her life had been like before now. At the same time, she knew hiding that wasn’t healthy; her therapist had cautioned her not to avoid self-disclosure if she trusted someone.

It’s too much to talk about right now. Like Inga said, I should give myself more time to adjust.

Olivia grew so restless that she set aside the sewing she’d started and went down to take a walk through the castle’s gardens. There she skirted around the young men weeding the beds, which appeared to bloom every day with flowers, vegetables, and berries. The looks they gave her reminded her that their binding ceremony was due to be held in a few weeks, something Ava assured her in which she would not be required to participate.

If you’d like to have a lover or husband, I’m sure the boys would line up for you.

Aside from having some lovely flings with the college boys in France, Olivia hadn’t dated much. It took her a long time to trust someone enough to be intimate with them, which was why she’d never slept with Charles. He hadn’t pressed her, either, which had been a relief as she’d never been greatly attracted to him. He seemed fine with just going out to the movies or having coffee together. Charles had already lost his heart to gambling; even if they had gotten serious she knew she would have always taken a back seat to it.

An older man came out of an archway, startling her back to the present. “How may I serve, Mistress Gibson?”

Olivia grew embarrassed, she was sure they had been introduced but now she couldn’t remember the head gardener’s name. “I wondered if I could help out here, sir.”

“Och, call me Eachann.” He swatted the air. “I’ve some seedlings the healer wishes me plant, if you wouldnae mind aiding an old man.”

She followed him to a potting shed, where he had sprouted dozens of plants. The lovely green earthy smell made her smile. “Do you still need to grow things when the trap restores the garden beds every morning?”

“These the healer gathers from droppings where the birds roost,” Eachann told her. “He plants them in small pots and has me watch over them. The seeds of what the birds ate in the world beyond then take root in the soil, sprout, and I put them in a special bed. We cannae tell what they are until they flower or fruit, but we’ve already found what Benedict tells us are cloudberries, sunflowers and corn.”

Olivia helped the old man carry the seedlings out to a mostly bare patch of ground just beyond the shed, where they worked together to plant them in the rich, black soil.

“I think this one might be a persimmon tree seedling,” she told Eachann. “We had one in our backyard when I was a little girl.”

“I dinnae ken persimmon,” he admitted. “What manner of fruit did the tree provide?”

“It’s a kind of berry, I believe—a little smaller than an apple.” Her smile faded as she remembered all the nights she had stared at the fruit hanging on branches just outside her window while her stomach cramped. Once she had given into that temptation and picked one, only to suffer for it. “You don’t want to try them before they’re ripe, because they’re terribly sour. But once they’re ready to be picked they’re very sweet, almost like honey.”