Chapter Thirty-Five #2
They sat in silence for a spell. Thea stroked Cinnamon, sleeping on her lap. Eventually the knife edge of grief dulled a little, enough to speak of other things.
‘When did you get another rabbit?’ Talibah asked.
Thea blinked as Talibah bent to scoop up a second rabbit. This one was tawny brown. ‘I didn’t?’
‘Oh, can I name this one, too?’ Zofka reached to stroke the rabbit. ‘I think Nutmeg suits him nicely.’
Talibah peered closer at the rabbit’s unusual markings: a single splodge of white fur sat beside its twitching nose, just big enough to fit the tip of Thea’s finger. ‘Did Jasper ever tell you if he was going to release Malek from his vault?’
‘No, we haven’t had a chance to speak yet.’ Thea looked at the rabbit. ‘He wouldn’t have . . .’ She trailed off uncertainly.
Zofka grinned. ‘Someone doesn’t know her husband as well as she thinks.’
Thea tossed a pastry at her.
Laughing, Zofka held her hands up. ‘I’m not judging; Malek suits being a rabbit far more than he ever did being a human.’
Thea shot a scandalised look at Talibah, who shrugged. ‘Perhaps it’s a coincidence.’
They chatted some more, speaking far longer than the hour Jasper had allotted them before he made his return. Zofka and Talibah left, leaving more cakes and gingerbread and pastries than Thea could eat in several lifetimes, making her promise to send a raven the moment they could visit again.
And then it was just the two of them. As it had been for much of the last five hundred years.
Thea stood, revitalised after her long rest and Zofka’s kitchen-witchery. She’d changed into her favourite sage green dress with wildflowers embroidered up the stomacher. It had been Jasper’s favourite, she remembered. That was why she’d always been so fond of it.
Jasper hung his coat up in silence.
‘I feel foolish,’ Thea cried out.
Jasper jerked round, already frowning. ‘Whatever for?’
‘That I didn’t know who you were these past years. Seven years, Jasper, and I . . . I never knew. All those times you glared at me, you . . . you looked at me like you hated me, like—’
Jasper crossed the distance between them. ‘Like the way you hated me.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘My feelings for you are not an easy, gentle thing, Thea. They’re fierce and rough and all-consuming . . .’ He drew a rattled breath. ‘It is not something I found easy to hide. If I had left my mask slip, even for one second, then you would have known—’
‘What?’
Jasper’s gaze melted into hers. ‘That I am impossibly in love with you.’
‘Can you ever forgive me for leaving you alone with that grief? All those times I wondered if you were lonely . . .’ Her voice cracked. ‘I abandoned you. You must have been angry.’
Memories of their sweet daughter overwhelmed her. Good and bad, beautiful and terrible. It was too much to sort through, but she’d come back to herself enough to want to embark on that journey with Jasper. To remember Violet together. Heal together. If he wanted to, after she’d left him.
‘Oh, Thea.’ Jasper took her hands in his.
‘I was lost, broken when Violet was taken from us, but you – you were unreachable. I lost you too, that day. How could I be angry when I saw you smiling again? Saw you coming back to life? Violet will always be a part of me, of us, but grief is a long and tiring journey and I just want my wife back again.’
‘Then kiss me, Jasper Stiltskin,’ Thea told him.
He surged for her like he was ravenous, his hands sweeping up her neck, into her hair, as their lips met and she kissed her husband, knowing who he was again, at last, for the first time in years.
She kissed him back, every bit as starving as he was, until his arms fell to her waist, and he gathered Thea in his embrace, lifting her to shower her mouth, her neck, with kisses. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, she felt his contented little sigh brush against her mouth.
He ripped his mouth from hers, to sweep a frantic gaze over her. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, in that gravelly tone she adored. The one that had made her blush when he’d stopped to inquire about the dream-buds she was gathering in the forest when they’d met . . .
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Did you alter my handwriting in my Compendium?’
‘Of course.’ He gave her a baffled look. ‘I couldn’t very well give it to you with your own handwriting inside, could I?’
‘You’ – she kissed his cheek. ‘Are very’ – kissed the other cheek – ‘sneaky.’ She fell onto his lips again.
All this time, she’d been consulting the Compendium, believing Jasper had given it to her because he couldn’t stand teaching her magic himself.
Instead, he’d given her their own love story to read. And it was still her favourite one.
When he hoisted her higher, holding her tighter, she deepened their kiss, seeking more of him, never wanting to stop kissing him. They toppled against the bed together and Jasper pushed her dress and petticoats up to her thighs, before stopping and looking panicked. ‘I’m sorry, I assumed . . .’
Thea held his face in her hands. ‘Let me make things very clear to you, Jasper. I am hopelessly in love with you. Then, now and always. Even when I hated you, my heart belonged to you. Since the day I met you, it has been your name imprinted on my heart, and even when my memories were lost to me, I could never love another. It is you, only you, for as long as I live. It always has been, and it always will be.’
Jasper inhaled roughly.
She pulled him back down onto her. ‘Now, assume away, because I want everything you’ve got to give me, and more.’
His dark blue eyes glinted. ‘Careful, those are dangerous words.’
She grazed his neck with her teeth before whispering, ‘I’ve spent the last seven years reading a lot of romance novels.’
With a growl of approval, he unlaced her stomacher, unwrapping her like a gift he was impatient to see.
‘Aren’t the pillows comfortable?’ Thea asked afterwards, when they lay on her bed together, Jasper’s arms wrapped around hers as if he was afraid to let go.
‘Yes,’ he said begrudgingly.
‘I’ve seen that bed you’ve been sleeping on, and it looks as hard as stone.’ Thea stroked his arm lightly, biting her lip as she awaited his response. They hadn’t discussed living together again but surely, surely . . .
‘I’ll sleep with a thousand pillows if you’re in my bed.’
Thea smiled.
‘I love it when I make you smile,’ Jasper said, pulling her closer.
‘You can’t see my face,’ she accused.
‘I don’t need to see it to know when you’re smiling.’
An indignant caw interrupted them. When Thea looked up, every one of her windowsills were lined with ravens. She sat up, clutching her blankets to her chest. ‘What’s happened now?’
Jasper kissed her bare back. ‘You happened. I think everyone in the Magic Quarter has sent at least one raven since you collapsed in front of them all.’
Thea groaned, burying her head in her blanket. Cinnamon hopped over, nudging his head against hers. ‘I suppose I’d better get up and start answering them all. Maybe I should call a meeting just to assure them I’m fine now.’
‘That might be a good idea,’ Jasper said seriously. Too seriously.
Thea shot up from the blanket. ‘This is the second Quarter meeting you’ve agreed to. Why?’ She eyed him suspiciously.
Jasper’s hand, running up and down her back, paused. ‘Well, if we’re going to live here together, they might as well start getting used to me.’
‘Live here. Live here?’
Being a man who frowned more than he smiled, Jasper’s smiles were all the more treasured by Thea.
His smile now made her feel like melted caramel.
‘You found a community here, Thea. Friends and family that helped heal you. Why would I ever want to take you away from that? No, I think we ought to live here together.’ He glanced around Thea’s apartment, with its windows overlooking the snowy oaks and winter-blue sky, its stacks of books and heaps of blankets and two rabbits meandering about.
‘Yes, I think this will make a fine home for us both. Once we’ve made it bigger, of course.
I shall have to build some bookshelves for you, too; I don’t know why your books are all over your floor—’
Thea kissed him. Long and slow and soft.
When they finally drew apart, Jasper was holding the heart-shaped box in his hands. ‘Would you do me the greatest honour of being my wife once more and forever, Theodora?’
‘Always,’ she whispered.
He slid her old ring onto her finger. It felt as if she’d never taken it off.