Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
LINDY
Sunset had never taken so long to arrive.
Lindy forced herself to finish the row of stitches after the sun finally dipped below the horizon, then wrapped up the damp, half-finished sleeve with the rest of the green, stringy nettle fibers and carried the bundle with her to the welcoming fire that Atlas had already started.
He had four large trout turning slowly on a spit over the flames, and the smell made her mouth water and her stomach pinch with hunger.
He had spent nearly the whole day crafting a fishing pole and line and catching their dinner, returning shortly before sunset.
His mood when he left had been somber and tense, and despite the small smile he gave her when he came back with the fish, the tension in the air remained.
She stowed the knitting in her bag. “At this rate,” she announced, her voice sounding loud and awkward after a day of silence, “I should be done with the shirts before winter sets in.”
She sat down in front of the fire, holding out her stiff, aching joints to the warm flames. The itching had thankfully subsided quite a bit once she was no longer dealing with the leaves, but they were still red and inflamed, and her muscles were unused to the prolonged hours of knitting.
Atlas blinked. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“It’s true. I estimate two to three days for each shirt, maybe less as I get used to the process, which means I could be finished in less than three weeks. That’s well before winter.” She widened her eyes and fluttered her lashes innocently.
He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Did you spend all day coming up with that one?”
“With doing the calculations? Yes.” She opened and closed her hands slowly, stretching out the muscles.
“I needed something to keep my mind occupied. It took me a while to remember the stitches and work out how to use the nettle, but after a few false starts, I think I’ve finally figured it out.
They won’t be fashionable garments by any means, but they sure are shirts. ”
“My offer still stands,” Atlas said gently.
“And I’m thankful for the gesture,” she answered honestly. “But I’ve got this. It’s my mistake, anyway.”
He grunted something unintelligible, then pulled the fish from the fire and transferred them to two flat pieces of bark. He passed her two of the fish. “You’re going to have to forget all your fancy, royal manners, I’m afraid, unless you happen to travel with forks?”
“I left all my best forks at home.” She picked up one of the fish, then dropped it immediately when it burned the tips of her fingers. “It’s hot.”
Atlas chuckled. “It was just over the fire. Here.” He handed her his knife. “I wouldn’t use it for eating, but you can pull the meat away from the bones and speed up the cooling process.”
While she followed his suggestion, he pulled apart his own fish with his fingers, apparently immune to the fire’s effects. She watched in amusement as he consumed nearly half a fillet in one bite.
“Are you sure that’s going to be enough?” She looked at their evenly divided portions. There was no way that a man his size was going to survive on two measly fish.
“If I’m still hungry, I’ll get more.” He nodded to her meal. “Eat. This is my contribution to curse-breaking, remember? I want my goose back; I’m keeping you alive.”
“Right.” She breathed out a laugh. “Every meal is one step closer to Phoebe.”
He’s here for his goose. I can’t forget that.
She cautiously poked at her fish and found that it was cool enough to eat. The flaky meat was tender and moist, and she closed her eyes and nearly cried with happiness at her first real meal since dinner the night of the funeral.
“How long ago was that?”
She opened her eyes, realizing with embarrassment that she must have spoken her thoughts out loud. “I don’t know. The night before last, I think? It’s all been a bit of a blur, honestly.”
Atlas set his bark to the side, empty of everything but fish bones picked clean, stretched his legs to the side, and leaned back on his hands. “What happened?”
“Well, I hiked through the forest for a day and picked some nettles, and then—”
“No,” he interrupted her. “I mean before that. With the princes.”
Lindy sighed deeply, her appetite forgotten. She looked at her hands, which appeared less miserable in the firelight. “It’s a long story.”
“I have nowhere else to be.”
She glanced up at that, tilting her head. “You don’t have a home or a business that needs tending? A family?”
She realized with an uncomfortable jolt that she hadn’t even stopped to consider the fact that he might not be as alone in the world as she was, that he might have someone waiting for him to return.
“My housekeeper, Ms. Fumley, is perfectly capable of keeping things running while I’m gone. Phoebe is the only one who would miss me, and she’s not there.”
“How did you and Phoebe come to be? It seems an odd pairing.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re deflecting.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m genuinely interested.”
He looked at her for a long moment, then sighed.
“We get some wild geese every winter when they come down from Norditch. Last spring, I found an egg that had been abandoned in one of their nests. I wasn’t sure if it would hatch or not, but I brought it inside, kept it warm, and about a week later, Phoebe was born.
She’s been following me around ever since. ”
There was a warmth in his eyes and a softness in his voice as he spoke, and Lindy found herself wishing for someone to think about her with even half as much affection as the giant had for his goose.
Atlas smiled at her, and she leaned in, mesmerized by the emotion in his face.
“I never thought birds could have personalities, but Phee certainly keeps me on my toes.”
“Have you always lived on the mountain?” Lindy asked, fishing for a line of conversation that would keep him talking.
The look he gave her said he knew what she was doing, but he acquiesced anyway. “My family has owned the estate for several generations. I was born there, and I’ll probably die there.”
“You don’t ever think about living somewhere else?”
He laughed humorlessly. “In case you haven’t noticed, Lindy, I don’t exactly fit in most places—literally and figuratively.
I’d rather not be constantly followed by nervous whispers or people being suspicious of me simply for existing.
Do you know how many crimes I’ve been accused of in my lifetime, just because it’s easier to blame the big, scary giant than it is to admit that maybe the neighbor you’ve known your whole life is a crook? ”
Lindy shook her head wordlessly.
“At least a dozen, and that’s with me only coming down the Beanstalk once a season to replenish supplies. I can’t imagine what it would be like if I lived there every day.”
“I’m sure they’d get used to you after a while,” she offered.
“But why should I have to be miserable while they come to that conclusion?” He picked up a twig and threw it into the fire.
“No. I’ll stay up on my mountain where it’s quiet and the only people I have to deal with are the boys who climb up for a lark.
Speaking of foolish boys,” he gave her a pointed expression.
“I’ve shared about my family home now. Are you going to answer my question? ”
She sighed, glancing over at the lake where she knew her stepsons were presumably settled for the night.
She wasn’t sure what exactly Atlas had told them when he knelt down and spoke at their level that morning, but whatever it was, they had stuck close by her the rest of the day.
One of them—Owen, she was fairly certain—had even climbed up on the rock beside her and sunned himself for a bit during the afternoon.
“The princes have never liked me. I can’t really blame them.
It must have been strange suddenly having a stepmother who is as old as they are—younger, actually, in Corbin’s case.
Most of the time they kept their distance, but occasionally the younger ones would instigate pranks—spicy peppers in my soup, snakes in my bed, taking me out for a picnic and then stranding me in the woods—that sort of thing. ”
A muscle along the side of Atlas’s jaw clenched. “I see.”
“Their father’s death seemed to hit them particularly hard, and my reputation made me an easy target for their grief.
It started being spread among the court that I was the last person to be seen with Theodor, therefore I must have been responsible for his death.
I wasn’t, but my past certainly didn’t help with things.
Corbin had me locked in my rooms until they could officially determine whether or not I was to blame, and in the meantime, the rumors kept spreading until I was actually thankful to have an excuse not to leave.
The night of the funeral, Corbin and I had a falling out.
He’s in love with my lady-in-waiting, Elise, and for some reason decided that I would be against their marriage.
I’m not, but I knew that as long as we were friends they would never agree.
So…” Lindy swallowed against the hard lumps of tears that formed in her throat.
“So I pushed her away. Told her I was a witch like everyone said, and that she would never be able to trust me. He was mad that I made her upset.”
Atlas muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a threat.