Chapter 21
Twenty-One
With the money the Fair Queen paid Gertrude, you purchase a small home in the woods. It has a bedroom, a kitchen, a place to sit. What more do you need?
“Walls that won’t crumble in,” says Cyrus. “You do need that much.”
“I can repair the walls.”
“And a roof that won’t cave in while you sleep. Hans, honestly, you could do far better than this. You could move in with me, even.”
But you shake your head.
“I need to build something for myself,” you say. “I need to see that my hands can make something beautiful.”
He softens, then. The way he looks at you changes.
“Then why not build from scratch?” he asks.
“I don’t want to start over,” you say, “I can’t start over. I want to take something beaten and broken and fix it. I need something wretched. I need to know that this house can be worth living in again.”
Cyrus nods, slowly, and looks around. There’s mold growing in the corner, but he’s generous enough not to point it out.
“Well, it’s got good bones,” he says. “And come spring, we’ll make a garden grow.”