Chapter 25

C oren pulled open the round door, then stepped aside. The scene on the other side appeared, almost like a painting, though the idyllic scene was far more beautiful than anything she'd ever seen. Not even the art hanging in the halls of Crownvale could compare. Evelyn found herself blinking several times, thinking it would surely vanish.

A vast garden stretched out as far as she could see, draped in the light of a lavender moon. To the left stood an enormous willow tree, its leaves painted pink and mauve in the silver-purple moonlight. Evelyn gasped softly as a gildenmoth fluttered beneath its low-hanging branches, its golden light illuminating the waterfalls of foliage where they dipped low, almost near enough to brush against the surface of the still pond.

Evelyn had never seen anything like it, and stood before the doorway, her mouth open. "This—this can't be real," she said, blinking several times, as though to clear a vivid daydream from her mind.

The gardens and pond were surrounded by towering trees that stretched to the sky like ancient guardians of the quiet glen. At the center of it stood a cottage, its roof made of fairy moss that glowed softly green.

Nareen gave in to her impatience and swished past Evelyn's legs, entering the mysterious garden. The dog trotted up the walkway leading to the cottage, her nails scraping on the large stones that were framed in by neat shrubs.

Evelyn pressed her fingertips to her lips and took small, hesitant steps through the doorway, as though fearful moving any quicker would break the illusion. For surely that's what it was.

Coren stood beside her, silently letting her take it in. His hands were in his pockets, but he was near enough that she felt the warmth radiate from his body.

"This is a dream," she said, looking up at him.

He smiled. "I think I'd have to do a lot less weeding if it were a dream."

Evelyn smiled. "I have so many questions, I don't know which to start with!"

Coren chuckled and looped an arm around her waist. "Well, perhaps we might start with a glass of pomegranate wine. I seem to recall you fancying it quite a bit."

"You have some? "

"I may have bought a bottle before the festival came to an end." He shrugged, as though it were no matter, but to Evelyn, it felt immense and important.

As she felt warmed by the thoughtful gesture, she realized it was indeed quite a bit colder on this side of the doorway. She stretched out a hand and felt the air. It felt thicker, somehow, and she could not smell the sea. "It feels like it's about to rain," she said. "But how is that possible? And why is the moon that color when it looks so different on the other side of the door?"

"We are in the kingdom of the fairies," Coren replied. "And as such, the weather can be a bit… different. The moon and stars, too. You won't find a familiar constellation here." He gestured up at the midnight sky, and Evelyn scanned the bright pinpricks of light.

She nodded, as though she understood, when in fact, her head felt light and dizzy. She followed the carefully laid stone pathway and moved deeper into the garden.

It was hard to make out the plants in the dark, but she smelled lavender, rosemary, mint, and thyme as a soft wind whispered through the plants.

"How—how is any of this possible?" she asked, still unable to tear her eyes away from any of it.

"It's something of a long story," Coren replied. "Best told over wine."

He led her to the front door of the cottage, and she took notice of the arched windows flanking the door, their square panes topped by a panel of stained glass that formed red and purple tulips. Ivy crept up the front of the rest of the house, but had been cut back to keep the windows and doorway cleared.

Coren opened the door and Nareen went inside, her nails clacking against the wood floors. The interior was simple, but cozy and quaint. A small kitchen area stood to the right, with a cooking stove and a pair of worktables. Perhaps unsurprisingly, herbs in various states of drying hung overhead, crisscrossed throughout on twine, like colorful banners at a festival. The room smelled of sage and rosemary and something else that Evelyn couldn't immediately identify.

Beyond the kitchen was a living room with a hearth and two upholstered chairs. A bookshelf dominated one wall, the shelves bursting with tomes of varying age and binding. Evelyn immediately went to the books and ran a finger along the shelf.

"Most of those belonged to my grandmother," Coren explained. "This was originally her cottage. Well, her and my grandfather's, I should say."

"May I?" Evelyn asked.

He nodded. "Go ahead."

Nareen made a snuffling noise as she flopped onto a woven carpet before the hearth, and Coren laughed. "All right, girl, I'm working on it."

As she stood at the bookshelf, a patter of rain began to fall, though the sound was largely dampened by the coating of fairy moss on the roof. She still couldn't wrap her mind around how the cottage around her even existed, let alone how the world around it was so different from that of Shieglas on the other side.

Fairy magic was one thing, but to have the power to craft an entire world in another place…? Evelyn could not fathom how it came to be.

Puzzling over this, she slid a book free from the shelf and opened it, only to find it was not written in a language she could identify. She tried the next one, and the one after it, but could not read any of them.

The crackle of flames drew her attention from the shelf. Coren poked at the small fire, then added a slim log from the neat stack nestled inside an alcove in the stone structure. "That should get us through." He slid his hands into his pockets and turned toward her, only to jolt and hold up one finger. "Right, the wine!"

Evelyn smiled as he hurried back to the kitchen. "Where was your grandmother from?" she asked. "I can't understand anything written in these books."

"Oh. They're fairy books. Mostly reference, but some of them are stories. After they were given this parcel, she took to collecting them. She learned to read them, at least the simpler ones. She would tell me the stories sometimes, when I was young." Coren reappeared, a pair of handled mugs dangling from one hand, and the bottle of wine clasped in the other. "This parcel was given to her by a fairy king. She and my grandfather were farmers, here in Shieglas. My grandmother often foraged in the woods, and one day came across a small fairy child who was caught in a whirlpool in the river. It was stronger and more rapid in those days, and the poor child was in danger of drowning. My grandmother threw herself into the river and managed to save the fairy. As it turned out, he was the son of a noble in the fairy king's court, and when he returned and told them what happened, the fairy king himself showed up at my grandparents' farm. He granted them this parcel of land as a way to thank them for saving the boy."

"And it passed down to you?"

Coren nodded and set the mugs on the small table between the two chairs. "Well, to my mother, their daughter, and then to me."

"And the blight can't reach it," Evelyn said, drawing the connection together with a nod of understanding. As bewildering as the existence of such a place was, it also made sense of so many other questions.

Coren nodded, but a soft wince pulled at his features as he began to pour the wine. "That's right. My business has not been touched by the blight, thanks to my family's secret."

"And no one in all of Shieglas knows about this place?"

He shook his head and offered her one of the mugs before stuffing the cork back into the neck of the bottle. "No."

A rush of emotion swirled through her. Not only was he protecting her, but he was trusting her. A slight barb cut through, a reminder of the secrets she was yet keeping from him, and for a moment, she wanted to let it all tumble out.

"We could have gone somewhere else," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. " I could have gone somewhere else, to an inn or… or a boarding house. You didn't have to bring me here, Coren."

He met her gaze and she wished there was both less space and also more space between them as her emotions tangled and waged war.

"I know that, Evelyn. But I wanted you here. With me. This place is very much a part of me, and I wanted you to see it."

"Coren, I?—"

He took a step, closing the space between them with one stride, and took her face gently in his hands. "I want you to know me, Evelyn. And I want to know you."

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat as she looked up into Coren's eyes, seeing the warmth and desire reflected there. Without looking, she set her mug down on the nearby shelf, her hand trembling slightly.

"I want to know you, too," she whispered, her heart pounding.

Coren's thumb gently caressed her cheek as he leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss that quickly turned urgent and hungry. Evelyn melted into him, her arms sliding around his neck as the kiss bloomed with the promise of where the night would lead.

Evelyn woke to the touch of warm sunlight on the side of her face, and as her eyes fluttered open she found that, in fact, none of it had been a dream. She was in Coren's bed, still wrapped up in the scent of him and the feel of soft linen tucked around her like a wonderful chrysalis.

Nareen's nails clacked across the worn wooden floorboards, and from the other room, Evelyn heard Coren softly admonishing her for being impatient. A fire was going and she heard the crackling and popping of the wood, along with the sizzle of something hitting a hot pan.

With a satisfied smile, she sat upright and gathered the soft blankets to her chest, lingering in the memories of the night before.

"Oh, you're awake!" Coren appeared in the doorway. He wore a pair of linen trousers and a shirt, though the front was open, the buttons having not yet been done up. And Evelyn decided she much preferred it this way, showing off the well-honed form that came from hard labor.

He hesitated in the doorway, one hand going to rub across the back of his neck. "I've got some eggs going, and I was about to fry up some potatoes, now that the damned dog has stopped nagging me for her breakfast. "

Nareen appeared at his side, licking her chops and wagging her tail, clearly having gotten her way.

Evelyn laughed. "I see the priorities around here."

Nareen trotted closer and Evelyn buried her fingers in the dog's thick coat, framing the silver-streaked face with her hands and pressing a kiss to the dog's head. "I suppose I won't try to compete with you."

Coren chuckled. "How are you feeling?"

Evelyn looked up through dark lashes, a thrill coursing through her as their eyes met. "I suppose you could come closer and find out for yourself."

He started to oblige, when the smell of smoke interrupted and he bolted, his bare feet slapping on the wood floors as he hurried through the cottage, back to the kitchen. Nareen let out a bark and took off after him, leaving Evelyn alone.

She climbed from the bed and looked across the floor at the clothing they'd cast off the night before. Her dress lay in a rumpled heap, and from the bits of dog fur clinging to it, she wondered if Nareen hadn't used it for a pillow sometime during the night.

"Well, that won't do," she said, crossing to an armoire. Judging by the curve and scrollwork of the polished wooden doors, it had been crafted by an expert in the trade. Inside were shelves stacked with simple clothing, and she quickly pulled free a linen shirt and slipped into it, relishing the scent of bergamot and rain water. Did he make his laundry soap with a drop of bergamot oil? It would explain the hint of it on his skin.

The sleeves of the shirt were far too long, and she was still fussing with them as she padded into the kitchen and found Coren hunched over his small cooking stove. "Is it salvageable?" she asked, a hint of a smile in her voice.

"More or less. That is, if you don't mind—" He looked up and failed to find the rest of his thought as his eyes roved over her form, draped in his shirt, then down to her bare legs.

A rush of longing swirled through Evelyn as she watched him take her in. She wanted nothing more than to stay in the magical hollow forever, safe from Jarvis and Lady Kilgour and the king.

"Um—" Coren cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from her. He jabbed a fork at the contents of the cast iron pan. "That is, if you don't mind your eggs a little well done."

Evelyn smiled. "Ah."

Coren scuttled about the small kitchen, finishing their breakfast, and Evelyn took the opportunity to explore a bit more of the cottage. From one window, she saw his trusty cart, standing at the end of the stone pathway that led to the cottage's front door. She hadn't seen it the night before, and it looked as though he'd woken up early to load it with the day's deliveries. A bit of sailcloth lay draped over the bulk of it, protecting the items from the sprinkling of rain .

"Does it always rain more here than in Shieglas?"

"It tends to," Coren replied. He tossed slices of potatoes into the pan, which sizzled anew. "But it's good for the crops. Most of them, anyway. And anything more particular tends to do well in the greenhouse. I can show you, if you'd like."

Evelyn folded her arms over her chest and slowly turned to face him. Her stomach sank, but she knew she couldn't stay tucked away in the magical garden forever. No matter how much she wanted to. "I don't want to keep you from your work, Coren. And, truth be told, I need to get back to my shop. Archie usually shows up sometime in the morning, and he'll worry if I'm not there."

Coren nodded. "I understand. Maybe tonight, then."

"Tonight?" Evelyn licked her lips. "Listen, Coren, I appreciate you bringing me here and showing me all of this. But I can't let Jarvis and that innkeeper chase me from my shop forever. I know it's not much to look at, but I have important work that needs to be done."

Coren abandoned the potatoes and came over to join her at the window. He took her arms and pulled her close, his eyes searching hers. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Evelyn."

"I know." She drew in a deep breath, unsure what to say. She couldn't convince him she would be fine, of that she was certain. Likewise, she couldn't give up and lose herself in his world. Least of all because with every passing moment spent inside his idyllic cottage, the desire to tell him the truth gnawed a little deeper. He was sharing everything of himself with her, and there was still so much she was holding back.

A lingering look passed between them, but no agreement was reached in the space of it. Eventually, Coren returned to the stove and served up the potatoes and eggs, then poured her a cup of tea. Nareen circled near the table, hoping a scrap or two might yet fall to the floor. Evelyn tried her best to keep the conversation light, asking questions about the gardens and all the varieties of plants he maintained.

When breakfast was finished, Coren cleared the table while she got dressed. Afterward, he took her outside to show her the gardens in the daylight. There were two sections, one side wild and free, the kind of garden that was planted and tended only by nature itself. The flowers were wild and mixed, overgrown and thick in long rows. Bees happily buzzed about, despite the soft rain, drinking their fill of the stunning blooms.

The other side of the garden was more careful and cultivated. There were flowers there, too, of course, blooming in all shades and hues imaginable. But the roses were tamed and clung to wooden trellises, rather than running wild in large bushes and hedges. In the light of day, she could see the water in the pond as brilliant as a sapphire, and dotted with water bugs that floated lazily along the surface.

Beyond the pond, there was a greenhouse, its frame ornate and delicately formed by some sort of metal. She knew it had to be the work of magic, as no human could build such a structure to make the panes of glass look like petals of a large, glass flower.

Before the greenhouse rested rows of vegetables and herbs, their distinct scents swirling on the gentle breeze as they swayed together. A row of bright sunflowers stood tall, their faces open as they reached toward the sunlight. Birdsong echoed from the taller trees encircling the enchanted grove, and the presence of two scarecrows indicated some of them might be eager to come and find a quick meal in Coren's garden.

Coren didn't rush her, and when she'd seen everything in the garden, he showed her to a large shed behind the cottage where he did the work of processing the herbs. As within his kitchen, there were strings of twine crisscrossing below the rafters, where bundles of herbs hung to dry. Daylight flooded into the space through large windows, and beneath them stood long tables, each with its own purpose. One stood covered in empty jars and vials, meant for packaging up that which was ready to sell. Others had product ready to be delivered or sold at market, while yet another section seemed set up for pickling and canning, though Evelyn wasn't sure if those jars were for sale or only for his own reserves.

"Now, this is what I need," Evelyn said as she slowly spun in a circle, admiring and identifying the variety of herbs overhead. A soft breeze came in through the open door, rustling through dried bundles of lavender and fresh-cut sprigs of heather, sage, silverleaf, and verdant mint.

Evelyn turned to find Coren watching her, his frame propped against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Tragically, he'd made time to button his shirt. "This is what I imagine it must feel like on the other side of the stardust veil," she told him.

"And here I thought this must be wholly unimpressive to someone from Everspring Glade," Coren replied with an easy smile. "You must miss it."

"I used to," she said.

Coren's brow pinched, a silent question forming there.

"I don't expect I shall return," Evelyn added. "It wouldn't be the same, and I think I would rather keep my memories the way they are now. You are fortunate, Coren, to have such a place as this as your family's legacy. This secret treasure, just for yourself."

"I cannot argue with that," Coren replied slowly. "At least, not about being fortunate. I only wish there was a way to grow enough crops to get through this terrible blight. That is, assuming it ever goes away. Some folks say these things are cyclical, others say that it's hopeless."

Evelyn's jaw tightened. "It's not hopeless."

"You think you might have found a solution, then?" Coren asked. "Is that what you've been working on? Why I found you out here in the woods with all those bottles of dirt and mud? "

Evelyn kept her face turned away. She knew that if she looked at him, and let herself wander in those ocean-gray eyes, the truth would tumble from her lips.

"I want to help, if I can," she said, keeping her tone light and detached, as if the whole matter were not the most important thing in the world to her. Or, at least, it had been.

Reaching up, she traced the leaves of a bundle of starthistle and smiled, thinking of their first meeting. When Coren didn't say anything further, she turned and smiled at him. "Are you tired of me poking around and being nosy?" she asked.

He pushed away from the door frame and stood to his full height, letting his arms fall to his sides. "It's not that," he said. "Though I do have some deliveries to make this afternoon."

"Oh." She bobbed her head. "Of course."

She moved to step past him, but he caught her and gathered her to him, grinning once more. "Although I could probably wait another hour before I have to leave."

A grin darted across her lips, but she reined it in, pinching her lips into a pout. "Only one?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "I knew you were going to be trouble, Evelyn Rosewood."

She rose on her toes and kissed him.