Page 53 of Deals & Dream Spells (The Charmed Leaf Legacy #2)

“Is it?” Jasvian gave him a faintly bemused look.

“Evryn, you’re my brother. Do you think I want anything less than the best that life can possibly give you?

I’ve been lucky enough to find a love that has transformed my existence into something infinitely more meaningful than I’d ever imagined possible.

Why should you not have the same? Why should your happiness be diminished simply because of the family name attached to the one who brings it to you? ”

A curious tightness constricted Evryn’s throat.

Was that the way Mariselle made him feel?

It had begun to feel that way while sitting beside her on a dream porch overlooking a dream ocean, her shoulder lightly bumping his as they’d spoken more freely than they’d ever spoken before.

But he wondered again if that was only the intimacy of dream sharing.

He released a small breath of a laugh, standing and meeting his brother’s gaze. “I think perhaps you should be having this conversation with Grandmother.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Jasvian assured him. He gripped Evryn’s shoulder in solidarity before they turned back toward the gathering .

“Evryn, dear,” his mother said, approaching him before he reached the table. “Could you find Kazrian? I believe he wandered into the kitchen, but he’s been gone rather longer than fetching a pastry should require.”

“Of course,” Evryn replied, glancing past his mother and noting that Kazrian was indeed gone from the table.

Rosavyn had excused herself as well and appeared to be assisting Iris with extinguishing a small blaze that had erupted among the enchanted paper decor that fluttered near the ceiling.

Undoubtedly the work of the mischievous hearth sprites he could see scampering across the tea house floor toward the kitchen.

Aurelise and Mariselle now sat closer together, their heads bent in conversation, occasionally breaking into shared laughter. The sight sent a warm current through him, settling somewhere beneath his ribs.

The tea house kitchen was quieter this evening than when Evryn had visited early in the morning almost three weeks prior.

Several kitchen pixies were busy washing used teacups and plates, while one had apparently worked itself to exhaustion already and now lay fast asleep on the central worktable, tiny limbs splayed as it snored quietly.

Kazrian, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Evryn frowned, moving deeper into the kitchen’s domain. He noticed the pantry door stood a jar, and as he approached, he heard the unmistakable sound of muffled laughter—Kazrian’s distinctive chuckle followed by a softer, more melodic laugh that took him a moment to place.

Pushing the door open wider, Evryn discovered his brother and Lucie Fields seated on the floor of the pantry, their backs against shelves of tea canisters.

“—absolutely cannot be true,” Lucie was saying, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright with amusement.

“I swear,” Kazrian insisted. “It was quite a sight to behold.”

They both dissolved into laughter again before noticing Evryn standing in the doorway. Their expressions shifted immediately to identical looks of guilty surprise. Lucie was on her feet in an instant, Kazrian following a moment later.

“Evryn!” he exclaimed, a bit too loudly. “We were just, ah?—”

“Discussing the inventory,” Lucie supplied quickly, her hands twisting together.

“The inventory of … wine?” Evryn inquired mildly, eyes landing on an op en amber-hued bottle with a slender neck, partially concealed behind Kazrian’s boot.

Kazrian cleared his throat. “Quality control. Very important aspect of … inventory.”

Evryn suppressed a smile, thinking of his own recent lapses in propriety. “I see.”

“Please don’t tell Lady Rivenna,” Lucie said, her expression growing more concerned. “I was only taking a short break, and Kazrian poked his head in here looking for, um …”

“That starwhisper chamomile blend Mother likes so much,” Kazrian supplied.

“Right. That.” Lucie nodded vigorously. “And we got to talking— only talking, I swear—and … I … um …”

“I’m hardly one to judge anyone’s questionable behavior,” Evryn said, backing out of the doorway. “Continue with your … quality control.”

Relief washed over both their faces, followed by surprised gratitude.

“Mother was looking for you,” Evryn added to Kazrian. “I’ll tell her you’re …assisting with kitchen matters.”

“Much appreciated,” Kazrian replied.

“But perhaps don’t spend too long in here. She’ll likely come looking for you herself at some point.”

“Noted.”

Returning to the main room, he found Mariselle was now gone from the Rowanwoods’ table as well. His eyes scanned the room for her, and a sudden pang of alarm tightened his chest when he spotted her on the far side—cornered by his grandmother.

Mariselle should have remained at the Rowanwoods’ table where it was safe.

Instead, she’d noticed the dancing flames that Rosavyn and Iris were attempting to subdue near the ceiling and had risen instinctively to offer her assistance. The blaze was modest in size, but her natural inclination to help had overridden her better judgment.

Once the mischievous fire had been properly extinguished, rather than returning directly to the relative sanctuary of her seat, Mariselle found herself drawn toward the opposite side of the tea house, captivated by its enchanting decor.

A suspended silver teapot captured her attention, elegantly enchanted to display the time in luminescent numerals that rippled across its burnished surface.

She circled it with quiet appreciation, admiring how the craftsmanship revealed itself differently from each angle.

So thoroughly absorbed was she in this examination that when she finally turned away, she nearly collided with Lady Rivenna’s imposing figure

“Lady Mariselle Brightcrest,” the Rowanwood matriarch said, her voice cool as winter frost yet carefully modulated to avoid drawing attention. “You have remarkable audacity, returning to my establishment.”

Mariselle’s stomach tightened, but she dropped into a brief, perfectly executed curtsy before straightening and lifting her chin slightly. “Lady Rowanwood. Good evening.”

“Was your previous visit not sufficient?” Lady Rivenna’s eyes narrowed. “I believe I made my sentiments regarding your presence here quite clear then.”

“You did,” Mariselle acknowledged, maintaining her composure despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.

“Yet here you stand,” Lady Rivenna continued, “in my tea house once more. The question that presents itself, rather insistently, is why .”

Around them, the evening continued in pleasant ignorance of their tense exchange—laughter from a nearby table, the delicate melody of porcelain against porcelain, the faint rustle of leaves as they moved against the walls.

“I was invited,” Mariselle said simply, exactly as she’d said during her first visit. “By your grandson.”

“Most likely because you enchanted him to do so,” Lady Rivenna muttered. Then her voice took on a sharper edge. “What precisely do you want, Lady Mariselle? What is your aim in inserting yourself into my family’s affairs?”

“Tonight? I merely wished to witness your renowned tea leaf reading event firsthand, having heard such remarkable accounts of the event.”

Lady Rivenna leaned closer, her voice becoming an icy hiss. “What. Do you. Want?”

“I want to be you!” The words burst from Mariselle before she could contain them, startling them both equally.

Lady Rivenna blinked, momentarily robbed of her usual poise. “What? ”

Mariselle felt heat rising to her cheeks.

“That is—I want to be like you,” she amended hastily, the words tumbling out in an uncharacteristic rush.

“You’ve built something remarkable here.

This tea house. Your place in society. The respect you command.

Everyone in Bloomhaven speaks your name with reverence. ”

Lady Rivenna regarded her with an expression Mariselle couldn’t quite decipher—suspicion mingled with something that might almost have been surprise.

“You wish to emulate me ?” she asked finally, studying Mariselle’s face as though searching for signs of deception. “A Brightcrest, admiring a Rowanwood?”

“I admire achievement,” Mariselle replied, steadier now. “And strength. And the ability to create something lasting, something that brings joy to others. Why wouldn’t I admire that? Why wouldn’t I aspire to achieve something similar one day?”

Lady Rivenna gave her a look that suggested she thought Mariselle entirely incapable of achieving anything close to the legacy she had so meticulously crafted over decades of dedication and sacrifice.

After several more moments’ pause, she drew herself up.

“Well. That is … unexpected. Though I remain unconvinced of your sincerity.”

“That’s fair,” Mariselle conceded. “Regardless, the tea leaf reading was excellent fun. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. Fascinating, truly. Thank you.” She offered another polite curtsy.

Lady Rivenna merely watched her, eyes narrowed, saying nothing.

Mariselle turned, exhaling a shuddery breath, and found Evryn heading toward her. She met him halfway to the Rowanwoods’ table.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyes darting briefly over her shoulder. “I saw you with my grandmother and feared the worst.”

Mariselle laughed softly, the tension in her shoulders beginning to ease. “I believe I may have just shocked Lady Rivenna Rowanwood,” she admitted. “And not entirely in a bad way.”

“Oh?” A slow, approving smile spread across Evryn’s face.

He moved to stand beside her, sliding a hand around her waist until it settled at her lower back.

He drew her closer than was strictly proper, and as the two of them headed back toward the Rowanwoods’ table, he leaned close and murmured, “Now there is a story I should very much like to hear.”