He stared at them, feeling like it was some kind of test. "They're big daisies, right?"
She did that same laughing, sobbing thing again. "Reaves. They're Marguerites."
His throat closed up slowly as he stared at them. "They are?"
She nodded. "I know they grow in front of your dad's place, but I didn't even know her name until the other night, when he told me. And now…"
Reaves held her a little closer and had to blink and swallow a few times. They stood staring at his mom's flowers for a long few moments, before she brushed her thumbs under her eyes again and straightened up, digging in her purse for the key his dad had given her.
"Come on. Let's go in and see what it's like inside."
He followed her around the whole house. It was just the right size, laid out on two floors—three bedrooms, two bathrooms—and in much better shape than he'd expected. His dad had made it sound as though it might be falling down—it was livable just the way it was. Whatever updates it needed were a matter of taste, not necessity.
Alara turned to him with a smile. "You know, whoever your dad rents this place out to is so lucky. It's gorgeous. I mean, I know it's not big and fancy like a lot of the houses around here. But it's perfect. It's a home, Reaves."
He was so tempted to tell her. The look of longing on her face almost made him cave. But it was his dad's surprise, not his.
She shook her head. "I'm going to make it into the perfect home. You have to make sure you vet the people who rent it from him, okay?" She shook her head again. "And maybe put in the contract that someone has to come in to take care of the flowers by the front door. I'll do it."
He caught her hand. "I have a feeling it's going to be fine. Whoever gets to live here will take damn good care of it. And of the Marguerites."
He led her out into the greenhouse, letting her go ahead of him. She looked all around inspecting the few broken panes and the sagging shelving. Then she came back to the center of the space and looked up through the glass at the sky. A big smile spread slowly across her face. She spun slowly around, arms wide, and for a moment she wasn't the careful, apologetic woman he'd met at all. She was looking at the room the way Zia looked at the world—like it was made of magic. Like anything was possible.
He kept his mouth shut, leaned in the doorway, and watched.
"This is the place where it all began." She turned to him with a smile.
He waited for her to go on, surprised his dad would have told her that.
She smiled. "The branding, I mean. I don't think I told you, did I? Sitting in my office, looking out the window, I saw the sun glint off this roof. That's where the gold leaf came from. It just pulled everything together." She turned around in a circle again. "Isn't it funny that thatRooted in Stillnessthing was inspired by a greenhouse—where things literally take root?"
He went to her and wrapped both his arms around her waist, resting his forehead against hers.
"What is it?" she asked, looking up into his eyes.
"Just that you don't even know the half of it."
"What do you mean?"
"When you said it all began right here, I thought you knew."
"Knew what?"
"Dad told you that he and Mom lived here before they ever bought the estate, right?"
She nodded.
"Well—this greenhouse right here is where he grew the first seedlings. The ones that became the first vines that became the House of St. James."
"Oh my God, Reaves." Her hand came up to cover her mouth, and her eyes wide. "I had no idea."
"I know."
"That just makes it even more perfect." She lifted her lips to his, her arms coming up around his neck. He loved the way she did that—as uncertain and apologetic as she'd been aboutmost things right from the beginning, she’d never once hesitated whenever she wanted to kiss him.
~ ~ ~
When they finally broke apart, Alara caught Reaves's hand and took him to stand at the windows, looking up at the house and at the castle.
