Aveen did not like that, stomping the whole way through the manicured hedges and muttering under her breath. Then she stilled.
I watched the surprise register on her face. The wonder. Her eyes fell closed, and her chest lifted as she inhaled the balmy, floral air.
“Do you like them?” I asked.
“They are more beautiful than I imagined.”
Her confession made me smile. Everything about her made me smile. I hated it and liked it at the same time.Feelings. Made no feckin’ sense. “Humans. So easy to impress.” Would she be as impressed with my gift? There was only one way to find out. “This way.”
Callum and Donal chatted next to a pooka about the fine harvest. One of the banshees waited at the gates. I waved to let her know I’d be there shortly, after I finished with my “hostage.”
Muireann watched us from the fountain. I probably shouldn’t have ignored her but didn’t have it in me to feign interest. Around the back, Oscar and Fillion were knee-deep in vegetables, where they always seemed to be this time of day.
I brought Aveen to the far side of the castle grounds, realizing I should’ve probably checked in with Oscar beforehand to make sure his tasks had been completed. He didn’t appear worried from where he pulled carrots from the ground, so I assumed they had been. One good thing about being feared: When you asked someone to do something, they did it.
We came to a halt next to the shed. For some reason, my nerves were at me. “Here.”
Aveen’s delicate eyebrows came together as she glared at my gift. “What is it?”
“It’s a shed.”Clearly.
“Why are you showing me a shed?”
“It’s your shed.”
“You expect me to live in a shed?”
Cursing, I stalked toward the shed, slid the bolt, and opened the door. “Just look inside.” There was all sorts of shite in there. Tiny shovels. Seeds. Pots. Trays of miniature plants.
Aveen didn’t smile. Not even a small one on the corner of those lips. “Why?”
I couldn’t very well tell her the real reason, now, could I? So I shrugged.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t bother me if you need anything else. Bother Oscar.” I waved at the grogoch to let him know he could live another day.
“Why are you being so nice?”
Muireann’s head whipped toward us. I’d have to have a little chat with her about minding her own feckin’ business. “I’m not being nice. I’m showing pity to a powerless human hostage who serves absolutely no purpose whatsoever.”
* * *
Tadhg returned from the oubliette, and I found him in the study. When I casually reminded him of the executions in Gaul at half-eleven, he decided he’d rather drink. Executions today, a trial tomorrow, and no doubt more executions the day after that, which left me no time to watch over my human or finish her cottage or sit down and figure out how to fix the mess my brother and Aveen’s sister had made.
Who could I leave her with?
The dog’s face flickered through my mind.
I didn’t exactly trust Ruairi, but Tadhg did, so perhaps he’d be good enough in a pinch. I wasted a bit of magic letting him out of the dungeon. He appeared in the doorway like a beast from hell, his expression as black as his hair.
Hair I still needed to cut.
“You bastard!” the animal roared. “I ought to rip out yer throat.”
“Not now, pooka. I’m dealing with something important.” I shifted my coat, going over all I needed to do before I left. I’d have to strengthen the wards and ensure Aveen couldn’t leave, and then deal with the banshee.
“Where’s Tadhg?” he pushed.