“If he’s got to work closely with you, it’s certainly relevant,” Annice pointed out. “Can’t have someone elbow to elbow in the workshop where you can’t stand each other. It’ll foul everything up. That’s the way people get hurt. And you can’t force it. It’s a difference between being workmanlike and friendly.”
Griffin shook his head, but then he picked up her question. “I like to think I’m adaptable. A range of experiences and skills, and - well. Many people who need a chair or some help, we get good at solving problems, thinking through in advance what the options are, and getting creative.”
“Like going to the Faire,” Annice said, because he’d just done that. Even if he hadn’t spelled out all the pieces he was already thinking about so they could have a good time going together. “Did Nestor fight in the War?” She hadn’t thought about it. Of course, she’d never actually seen the man.
“Not at the front. He’s enough older he wasn’t called up until they expanded the age range in 1918.” Griffin looked up suddenly and ducked his chin. “About the same age as your Da, I’d guess.”
“Already knew I didn’t like him,” Annice said, promptly, before she could think better of it. It wasn’t exactly that she wanted other people to have gone to War like Da, but it turned out she thought less of people who’d got out of it. “And Harriet’s more like your age?”
“I’m forty-five this year, she’s, um.” Griffin counted off on his fingers. “Just turned forty-three. And people rarely retire from the courts until their seventies.”
“And you were all named when? How old?” Annice could feel a shape coming in the carving, but she couldn’t see it clearly yet.
“1913. I was 31. Harriet was 29 or so. And Horace was nearer 40. Nestor wasn’t named until 1919, after Horace died.”
“So, adult and established, but not terribly old.” Annice frowned. “And Nestor’s, um. Not very flexible. Granite. Something unyielding. Not very ornamental.”
That, how she’d put it, got Griffin to relax. His shoulders had been climbing up to his ears. “He’s not required to be ornamental. And to give him due credit, he is very good at his work. It’s no small thing to keep three courtrooms running smoothly. The scheduling alone gives most people nightmares.”
Annice nodded. “And you’re more specialised. Did you do something else before that?”
“Before the War, I spent more time in the criminal court. Oak, that one is. And I dabble.” Griffin leaned back a little. “So you’re thinking, figure out more about what each of us does best, and what that means for the Courts. I mean, I’d considered that. Just as trees, not as stones. Maybe stones would show something up. Do you have that book you borrowed from Niobe still, about some of the lore?”
“I do. Bed or sofa?” Annice pushed back her chair, going to clear both their finished plates and wash up.
“I’ll have my bath and meet you in bed. How’s that? And we can read for a bit. Both of us.”
“I’ll be upstairs for a few, then. Take as long as you need. Half an hour?”
“About that.” He pulled back his chair to turn and go off to the bathing room, but he stopped by the sink as she started the water running. “Talking it out’s a great help. And thank you for bearing with me not being ready for it for a couple of days.”
She bent over to kiss his forehead. “Takes time to find what’s in the stone.”
Chapter39
APRIL 27TH
Griffin had been staring at the papers on his desk for a good hour, and he definitely had a headache growing at the base of his skull. The knock on the door startled it. It wasn’t Charlus. For one thing, it was the wrong knock, and for the other, Charlus was on an errand that would take him another half hour, more than likely.
“Who is it?” Griffin called out, pitching his voice to carry.
“Antimony, if you have a minute.” She hadn’t journaled first, which was unusual. And she hadn’t had ordinary business in the Courts today. The inheritance court had been quiet all week.
“Come in.” Griffin looked up, trying to read her expression.
She turned around and closed the door, then looked back at him. “Wards, please? Full privacy.”
Griffin tilted his head. “Tea? There’s some in the pot.” He then took a proper moment to settle himself and call up the three layers of wards he rarely bothered with. “Or would you rather do this elsewhere?”
“No, here’s good, now it’s warded.” Antimony poured herself a mug of tea and sat down facing him. “No meeting for half an hour or so?”
“No. And Charlus will check before coming in.” Griffin leaned back. “What’s going on, and why the...” He waved a hand at the door.
“Gossip. And not the amusing kind, like you showing Mistress Matthewman the city.” Antimony considered. “It is good to see you happy, though.”
“We will see about having you round for supper, if you ask nicely. Annice had a lovely idea about suitable furniture for purpose,” Griffin said, teasing for just a second. “And you may get to know her better. I might even go so far as to leave you in a room together for a bit.”
Antimony snorted, then sobered. “More seriously, what have you done to stir up Nestor?”
