Everquiet

Scene Three: The Things He Loves

Sebastian opened the heavy doors that led into the gardens.

The crisp autumn air immediately kissed my face, sending a shiver down my body.

I hugged my arms around myself.

Sebastian turned to face me, a hint of concern appearing between his brows.

"Oh. I didn't think."

"The cold doesn't really bother me."

Before I could say anything else, he removed his cloak and gently wrapped it around my shoulders.

The warmth of it immediately surrounded me, carrying the faint scent of cedar and something distinctly Sebastian.

"My apologies, Liora."

I smiled up at him. "It's okay. I never pay attention to the cold until I'm almost a statue."

His eyebrows shot upward.

I laughed.

"Oh, you're making a joke," he said, a small smile appearing on his lips. "My stress levels were beginning to rise. I thought I was going to have to keep a closer eye on you."

"Because I might freeze?"

"Precisely."

"I promise I'll try not to."

"I understand your habit of wandering, but freezing..." He shook his head solemnly. "I don't think I can let that one slide."

His concern tightened something in my chest.

I bumped his shoulder playfully with mine.

He looked down at me, completely baffled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You just assaulted me."

"I barely touched you."

"I'll have you know, that shoulder is very important."

I laughed again.

His expression softened as we continued down the stone path.

The gardens were even more beautiful than they had been from the windows.

Autumn had transformed them into something almost magical. The trees were painted in shades of amber, copper, and deep crimson. Fallen leaves scattered across the pathways, crunching softly beneath our feet.

Sebastian seemed to know every inch of the place.

He pointed out an enormous oak tree near the edge of the garden.

"My mother planted that one."

I looked up at its sprawling branches.

"How old is it?"

"Nearly two hundred years."

I turned toward him.

"Two hundred?"

He nodded.

"That's incredible."

"There are older trees farther into the grounds."

"You really do know everything about this garden."

"I told you I did."

"I thought you were exaggerating."

"I rarely exaggerate."

I gave him a skeptical look.

He smiled.

We continued walking until the path opened toward a beautiful glass structure nestled between the trees.

I stopped.

"What's that?"

Sebastian glanced toward it.

"The greenhouse."

"You have a greenhouse?"

"I have several."

I stared at him.

"Several?"

He gave me that same faintly amused expression.

"Would you like to see?"

"Obviously."

He led me toward it.

The greenhouse was breathtaking.

Tall panes of glass formed an elegant arched ceiling, framed by dark ironwork covered in delicate vines. Inside, the temperature was warmer, and the air smelled of earth, roses, and something sweet I couldn't quite identify.

Rows of plants filled the space.

Some I recognized.

Others I had never seen before.

There were climbing roses trained along iron arches, lavender spilling from stone planters, citrus trees heavy with small golden fruit, and flowers in shades of deep purple and almost black.

I slowly turned in a circle.

"Sebastian."

"Hm?"

"This is beautiful."

His eyes followed mine around the room.

"My mother loved flowers."

"Is that why you keep it?"

"Partly."

He reached toward one of the roses, brushing his fingers gently across a petal.

"Some things are worth preserving."

I looked at him.

There was something in his voice that made me wonder how many things he had lost.

Before I could ask, he turned toward the far end of the greenhouse.

"There's something else I want to show you."

I followed him through a narrow doorway at the back.

Beyond it was a small stone path nearly hidden beneath overgrown ivy.

"Where does this go?"

"You'll see."

"That's suspicious."

"So you've decided I'm suspicious now?"

"I've decided anyone who says 'you'll see' while leading me down a hidden path deserves suspicion."

He chuckled.

We followed the path beneath a canopy of trees until the garden opened into a secluded clearing.

And there it was.

A conservatory.

Unlike the greenhouse, this building was designed for people rather than plants.

Its walls were made almost entirely of glass, framed by elegant black iron. Ivy climbed the exterior, winding around the pillars. A small stone fountain sat in front of the entrance, its water making a soft, soothing sound.

I stared.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Sebastian smiled.

"Do you like it?"

"I think I'm beginning to suspect this house has more rooms than it has secrets."

His smile faltered for the briefest second.

Then he recovered.

"Perhaps."

He opened the door.

Inside, the conservatory was warm and inviting. Sunlight filtered through the glass ceiling, illuminating a circular table in the center of the room surrounded by comfortable chairs.

There were plants everywhere, but unlike the greenhouse, this place felt peaceful.

Like it had been designed to sit in and forget the rest of the world existed.

I walked toward the table.

"This is my favorite place."

I looked at Sebastian.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"I used to come here when I wanted to be alone."

"Did your mother come here too?"

"Sometimes."

His expression softened.

"She would bring tea."

As if summoned by the memory, the door opened behind us.

Two servants entered carrying a silver tea service.

I blinked.

Sebastian looked entirely unsurprised.

Tea was poured into delicate porcelain cups, followed by small cakes, finger sandwiches, and little pastries arranged neatly on silver trays.

I looked at Sebastian.

"You planned this?"

"I suspected you might be hungry."

"You suspected?"

"I've learned that you tend to forget meals when you're distracted."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You're keeping track of my eating habits?"

"I keep track of many things."

There was something about the way he said it that made my heart skip.

I quickly reached for a sandwich.

"Fine. I'll forgive you."

"How generous."

We sat across from each other.

For a few minutes, we simply drank our tea.

Then an idea occurred to me.

Sebastian had been unusually talkative all morning.

I intended to take full advantage of it.

"So."

He looked up.

"So?"

"I'm going to ask you questions."

His expression became wary.

"Questions?"

"Lots of them."

"How many is lots?"

"I haven't decided yet."

He sighed.

"I see."

I smiled.

"Favorite season?"

"Autumn."

"Favorite book?"

He thought for a moment.

"That is an unfair question."

"Why?"

"Because there are too many."

"Fine. Pick one."

He gave me a thoughtful look.

"The Count of Monte Cristo."

I smiled.

"Favorite dessert?"

"Pear tart."

"Favorite color?"

"Green."

"Favorite flower?"

"Roses."

"Favorite animal?"

"Wolves."

"Favorite music?"

"Classical."

"Favorite place in the manor?"

He looked around the conservatory.

"This one."

I smiled.

"Favorite place outside the manor?"

"The northern woods."

"Favorite food?"

He hesitated.

"Roasted venison."

I made a face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You disapprove."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"You made a face."

"I did not."

"You did."

I laughed.

"Fine. Maybe a little."

He shook his head, but there was amusement in his eyes.

I took another sip of tea.

"Favorite time of day?"

"Evening."

"Why?"

"It's quiet."

"Favorite childhood memory?"

That question changed something in his expression.

He looked down at his tea.

"My mother reading to me."

My smile softened.

"That sounds nice."

"It was."

I hesitated before asking my next question.

"What were you like as a child?"

He looked at me.

"Curious."

"Really?"

"Very."

"Troublesome?"

His mouth curved.

"Occasionally."

I laughed.

"I knew it."

"You seem pleased."

"I am."

He shook his head.

I studied him for a moment.

There were still so many things I didn't know about him.

He had spent the morning telling me about his favorite books, flowers, places, and memories.

But there was one question I suddenly realized I had never asked.

"How old are you?"

Sebastian froze.

Actually froze.

The teacup paused halfway to his mouth.

Then he took a sip.

And immediately choked.

I stared at him.

"Are you all right?"

He coughed into his fist, turning his face away.

"Perfectly."

"You just choked on tea."

"I assure you, I'm fine."

I raised an eyebrow.

"How old are you?"

His eyes flicked toward mine.

For the first time all morning, he looked genuinely uncomfortable.

"Twenty-nine."

I blinked.

"Twenty-nine?"

"Yes."

I studied him.

He certainly looked twenty-nine.

Maybe a little too composed for someone my age, but still.

"Why did you choke?"

"I wasn't expecting the question."

I laughed.

"That's a strange reaction to someone's age."

"Perhaps."

I leaned back in my chair.

"So we're almost the same age."

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Are we?"

"Well, I'm twenty-three. That's only six years."

"Yes."

"That's not a huge difference."

"No."

I smiled.

"Good."

Something unreadable flickered across his face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

I narrowed my eyes.

"You keep saying that."

"And you keep asking questions."

"Because you're finally talking to me."

His expression softened.

"Apparently I am."

I smiled into my teacup.

For the first time since arriving at Ravenscroft Manor, Sebastian didn't feel quite so distant.

He felt real.

Not the mysterious man who always seemed to know more than he said.

Not the intimidating lord of an ancient manor surrounded by forests.

Just Sebastian.

A man who liked autumn, roses, old books, pear tart, classical music, and quiet places.

A man who remembered his mother's favorite flowers.

A man who worried when I was cold.

And somehow, sitting across from him in a hidden conservatory while autumn sunlight filtered through the glass, I found myself wanting to know everything else he had never told me.

Even if I had no idea just how many secrets that would uncover.