Chapter 22 A Place to Sit
The basket beside my door smells of rosemary.
Not from the trampled beds we've been replanting. Those seedlings are still small, still finding their roots in the disturbed soil. The harvest comes from the mature plants that survived the attack, the ones that were too established to be easily destroyed.
"Rosemary, lavender, and chamomile." Thea presents the morning's gathering with obvious pride. "The feverfew should be ready in a few days."
I examine the bundles she's laid out on the workbench. The herbs are healthy, fragrant, exactly what I need to restock the supplies we used treating the village's injuries. "Good work. These are excellent."
"Nella helped." Thea glances toward the garden, where Nella is crouched beside a row of young plants with her bare feet pressed into the earth. "She said the rosemary wanted more attention on the south side."
"The rosemary wanted?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Her words, not mine." Thea grins. "But she wasn't wrong. That section is the healthiest I've ever seen."
Outside, the garden is full of people. Luca is repairing the last section of damaged fence, his physical shield hung on a post within easy reach.
Kira and Bram are working together to transplant seedlings, their movements coordinated in the easy rhythm of people who have learned to anticipate each other.
Two of the other freed prisoners are weeding the vegetable beds, their conversations quiet but present.
The village has claimed a row of its own, offered by Mira and tended by whoever has time to help. Farmer Howell's nephew is there today, carefully watering the carrots he planted with his uncle's guidance.
Royal Health is growing. Not just the plants, but everything.
"Gregori." Lyra appears in the workshop doorway, a cloth-wrapped bundle in her hands. "Suki asked me to bring this to you."
I put down the bundle of herbs in my hands. "What is it?"
"She wouldn't say." Lyra sets the bundle on the workbench. "She just said it was time you had one."
I unwrap the cloth carefully, not sure what to expect.
Inside is a stool.
Simple construction, sturdy wood, sized to fit perfectly beside my workbench. The joints are tight and even, the surface sanded smooth. Someone put real care into making this.
"Suki built it." Lyra's voice is soft. "Cali helped her pick the wood. They've been working on it whenever you went outside."
I run my fingers over the smooth surface. A stool. For my workshop. Something to sit on while I work instead of standing until my legs ache or bringing a chair from the kitchen.
Such a small thing. Such a simple thing.
Why does my throat feel tight?
"They noticed you don't have anywhere to sit in here." Lyra moves closer, her hand finding my shoulder. "They wanted to fix that."
I think about all the chairs in Royal Health. The ones around the dining table where we share meals. The ones in the main room where patients wait and neighbors gather. The cushioned seats in the quiet corners where people come to rest and recover.
I've never made room for a seat at this bench. Never thought I needed one. There was always work to do, patients to see, herbs to prepare. Sitting felt like something I could do later, when everything else was finished.
But everything else is never finished. That's not how life works.
"They shouldn't have bothered." My voice comes out rougher than I intend. "I don't need..."
"Yes, you do." Lyra's grip tightens on my shoulder. "That's the whole point."
Suki appears in the doorway, Cali perched on her shoulder. Both of them are watching me with expressions that might be nervousness or might be anticipation.
"It's not perfect." Suki's voice is careful. "The legs don't quite match. I couldn't find wood that matched exactly."
"I supervised the selection process." Cali's tail swishes against Suki's neck. "She rejected my first three suggestions. Very particular about grain patterns."
Suki reaches up to steady Cali on her shoulder. "You suggested a rotting log."
Cali flicks an ear against Suki's cheek. "Fine. Next time pick your own wood."
I look at the stool again. At the slight variation in the wood grain that Suki mentioned. At the small imperfections that prove someone made this by hand, choosing each piece of wood because they thought it was right.
"It's perfect." I clear my throat. "Thank you."
Suki's ears flick forward, her expression shifting into something closer to relief. "You spend too much time standing. Cali mentioned it. Multiple times."
"I mentioned it because it's true." Cali jumps down from Suki's shoulder and lands on the workbench beside the stool. "You're not young anymore. Your joints will thank you."
I lower the stool to the floor. "I'm not old either."
"You're older than you were yesterday." She tilts her head, studying me with those knowing eyes. "Sit down and stop arguing."
So I do.
The stool is exactly the right height. My feet rest flat on the floor, my back supported by nothing but my own muscles and the knowledge that I can rest here whenever I need to. The herbs Thea gathered are within easy reach. The afternoon light comes through the window at a comfortable angle.
Lyra rests her hand on the bench beside mine. "Comfortable?"
"Yes." I look up at her, at Suki, at Cali. "Very comfortable."
The rest of the afternoon passes in the pleasant rhythm of work shared among many hands.
I prepare the harvested herbs while Thea watches and takes notes.
Luca finishes the fence repair and comes inside to help Nella sort seeds for the next planting.
Kira takes a basket outside. When Bram tries to follow with another, she steals his basket and sends him back for his unfinished tea.
Bram stops by the workshop to deliver a cup of tea. His hands are steady as he sets it on the workbench.
"Thea said you forget to drink while you're working." He ducks his head, avoiding my eyes. "She asked me to remind you."
"Thank you." I pick up the cup and take a deliberate sip. "Tell her I appreciate it."
He nods once and retreats, but there's something lighter in his step than there was a week ago.
By evening, the day's work is done. The herbs are drying in neat bundles. The garden is watered and weeded. The fence stands whole and strong around beds full of plants in various stages of growth.
Dinner is a crowded, noisy affair. The table isn't big enough for everyone, so some people sit on the floor, others perch on windowsills, and Cali claims her usual spot on the table itself.
The food is simple, vegetables from the garden supplemented by bread from the village baker and cheese from Farmer Howell's grateful wife.
Luca and Nella sit together, their plates touching.
Kira has positioned herself where she can see both doors, a habit from captivity that hasn't quite faded yet.
Suki is beside me, eating with her usual focused efficiency while occasionally passing choice bits to Cali when she thinks no one is watching.
And Lyra is in her chair, the one that was empty for too many days, the one I am so glad to see her in.
Lyra slides half her cheese onto my plate and catches my hand before I can protest. "Eat. You can thank me later."
I turn my hand beneath hers and lace our fingers together. "Just glad you're here."
"Where else would I be?" She squeezes back. "This is home."
After dinner, when the dishes are cleared and the conversations have faded into comfortable quiet, I find myself back in the workshop. Not to work this time, just to sit.
The stool is waiting for me. I lower myself onto it, feeling the solid wood beneath me, the smooth edge that Suki sanded for me.
Cali appears a moment later, jumping onto the workbench and then into my lap with the casual confidence of someone who knows exactly where she belongs.
"Stay there, old man." She settles against me, her warmth a familiar comfort. "I am comfortable."
I rest my hand on her back, feeling the rumble of her purr start up somewhere deep in her chest.
I settle my hand between her ears. "I'm comfortable too."
[HOMERoyal Health stands.The garden grows.The family gathers.Someone finally made you a place to sit.You should use it more often.]
Through the workshop window, I can see the garden in the fading light. The new seedlings in their careful rows. The mature plants that survived and thrived. The fence that Luca repaired with his own hands. The corner where Nella likes to sit with her feet in the earth.
Beyond the garden, the house is full of voices. Lyra talking to Kira about tomorrow's tasks. Suki teaching Bram some kind of hand game that involves a lot of laughing. Thea and Nella comparing notes about which plants need attention first. Luca's quiet voice asking a question I can't quite hear.
This is what I built. Not alone, never alone, but with my hands and my heart and the help of people who chose to be here.
Severin is still out there. The evidence is with the magistrate now, working its way through official channels. For once, someone besides us is pursuing him.
But tonight, the harvest is in. The family is fed. The house is standing.
And I have a place to sit.
Cali shifts in my lap, her claws kneading gently against my leg. "Stop thinking about the future. You're ruining my nap."
I rub the spot beneath her chin. "Sorry."
"No you're not." She yawns, showing impressive teeth. "But you will be if you don't start relaxing."
I loosen my grip on the stool and rest my hand on her back. Her purr grows louder.
Tomorrow there will be work. There's always work. But right now, in this moment, with Cali warm in my lap and the sounds of family all around me, I don't have to do anything except be here.
So I am.
I stay.