When they were finished, Gregor cleared away the tray and led her back down the hallways, twisting and turning until they had reached the first long hall she'd met him in. He took her into a room close to the library, close enough that she could smell a hint of leather from just inside the doorway.
"This is your room, Nina," he said. It was sparsely furnished and simply decorated, but sizable. There were no paintings on the wall, and only a bed and nightstand in the far corner. The window was large and had a sill big enough to sit on and look out.
"Don't worry, you can bring more furniture in as you like. Anything you like is yours. Pick whatever you want."
Nina barely heard him. She had clambered over to the window and climbed up. She was delighted to discover that she could see the flower beds from her room. An oak kept the window shaded from the piercing sun. There was a small pond beyond the oak, and if she looked long enough she could see the movement of fish traced out on its surface.
Gregor watched her silently. He didn't want to interrupt. The simplest things seemed to make her happy. It was good, in a way, because of course there was no way for her to let him know what else she may want. He'd have to search for something to write with. Maybe she could be persuaded to explain her wishes in letters. For now, though, she seemed content, and he was content to watch her. Now she was watching a bird that had settled on the lawn, her eyes shining.
She certainly did not seem to act like she was eleven. Maybe, he thought, her lack of speech hindered her maturation. Her parents certainly didn't seem too fussed over her, he doubted if they'd have risen to the challenge of helping her learn to manage around it.
He was scared. A daughter of his own was hard enough, after years of living alone. He hadn't been careful enough, hadn't done enough research. The desperate loneliness had hit its peak and he took the first offer he found and brought her home and now he was faced with a problem he had no idea how to handle.
She turned around and found Gregor brooding, staring at the floor. She slipped off the windowsill and walked to him. Gently she took his hand and tugged. He blinked at her, surprised. With a soft smile she led him out of the room, through the hall and into the library at the front of the house. She let go and pointed at the bookshelves, a questioning look on her face.
"These? Oh, these books are all very hard, you wouldn't under—"
She was frowning again. The closed-off look was returning to her face. In a panic, he backpedaled.
"Well, here...come sit. We can learn them together."
He slid a book out of the shelf and sat on the large, comfy couch, patting the cushion next to him for her to sit. She settled in, wriggling out a comfortable spot for herself. Windchimes chanted softly somewhere in the distance as Gregor began to read.
"Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank and of having nothing to do..."
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