Coleman, Christopher - The Gretel Series 06 - The Killing of Orphism by Coleman Christopher

Coleman, Christopher - The Gretel Series 06 - The Killing of Orphism by Coleman Christopher

Author:Coleman, Christopher [Coleman, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798711477624
Google: ZmE8zgEACAAJ
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2021-02-19T22:52:28.506880+00:00


CHAPTER ELEVEN

G retel’s first week back at the orchard was bittersweet; she was happy to be with the Klahrs again, working and feeling productive, but there was an anxiety that nagged, lingering in her belly, reminding her that things at home were tenuous and unresolved. That her father may be dying. Perhaps being murdered slowly.

She thought of Hansel almost constantly, imagining the unbearable guilt she would forever live with if anything happened to him. There hadn’t been any further mention from Odalinde concerning the swan figurine, and apparently father had kept the cabinet breach a secret, but Gretel perceived a difference in Odalinde since that night in the kitchen, a new sort of quietness that implied restraint and plotting.

Still though, it was nice to be back at work, and compared to the madness of the weeks during the harvest, Gretel had it easy. All of the workers were gone, having migrated to further corners of the region where various other crops were about to be born, so Gretel’s work mainly consisted of cleaning the Klahr house to the point of sterilization, dividing the newly picked fruit for their various uses, and helping prepare the meals for Mr. and Mrs. Klahr.

Petr was staying on for a few weeks more, but apparently would only be making appearances on Fridays, as well as the weekends. So in addition to not being particularly busy, Gretel’s first week back was also quite lonely.

But she worked hard and tried to stay occupied, and Mrs. Klahr, bless her heart, seemed to make the point regularly to Gretel that her presence was critical to keeping the Klahrs out of the graveyard and the house from crumbling to splinters. Still, she wasn’t used to the downtime and boredom that filled much of her day, so when Friday finally came and Gretel saw Petr standing on the bank of the orchard as she eased her canoe to the shore, she couldn’t help but smile and wave. She was instantly embarrassed by the act, of course, and was still blushing when she walked up to the boy, who himself wore the look of giddy unease.

She’d barely spoken to Petr since that day in the Klahr kitchen—she’d been so focused on her work and the harvest—but she had always been keenly aware of his presence at the house and felt a nervous comfort whenever he smiled at her or offered to help with a chore, only to be told “No, thank you” in a way that implied everything was exceedingly simple to Gretel and in her complete control.

Now, though, having spent a mostly restful week away from the orchard and returning to find the feverish regimen of the place substituted with an almost placid routine of thorough maintenance, Gretel regarded Petr as an old friend, a domestic soldier like herself, who’d fought beside her in some recent battle and now waited for her in the clearing dust.

“You’re here early,” Gretel said, arching her eyebrows to show she was mildly impressed.

“I got in last night.



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