Page 7

CHAPTER 7

ROSALYN

E ven though I was smiling, it was very possible the butterflies in my stomach were going to burst out and kill me, causing a grizzly scene that would scar Bjorn for life.

I held the door open for the Rune elf and his firewolf.

Merry immediately paused his grooming and looked at the firewolf with suspicion.

The wolf had a similar reaction, but he was more excited than aggressive.

He whined excitedly and wagged his tail quickly, doing a little hop in interest.

Bjorn smiled apologetically.

“He’s good with cats, I promise. He endlessly follows them around our stables, trying to play with them or groom them and thoroughly annoying them in the process.”

“He has good-boy energy,” I said with a laugh.

And so do you, Mister Runeson.

I took a pet cookie from a jar on my counter and tossed it to the wolf.

“Please, have a seat,” I told Bjorn, gesturing to the last table upon which I hadn’t yet stacked the chairs.

“You see. It was meant for you,” I said, trying not to let Bjorn see the heart shapes in my eyes.

“Thank you. I really don’t mean to put you out. The compass bird…” he said, gently lifting the compass bird from his shoulder with care as if it were alive.

“It kept bringing me here. Your neighbor must have thought I was stalking you.”

“Winifred is suspicious of everyone, but she is also the one person in town who knows all. If there is any mystery to unfold, she will get to the bottom of it,” I said with a light laugh.

Bjorn’s brow furrowed slightly.

“I see.”

Interesting.

“So, how about a bowl of summer squash soup and a farmer’s pie?”

“That sounds amazing. Thank you, Rosalyn.”

“My pleasure,” I replied, my stomach twisting at the sound of my name spoken in his northern Rune elf accent.

Snapping my fingers, I set a cup, saucer, and a pot of tea coasting on clouds of glimmering blue light across the room to Bjorn.

By chance, I had just brewed a pot of Evening Relaxation.

The enchantment poured him a cup while I prepared his dinner.

“So, the compass bird kept bringing you here?” I asked.

“Yes,” Bjorn replied with a light chuckle.

I set the pie in the oven to warm and ladled out the soup.

“It kept bringing you here,” I said with a grin.

“So, why didn’t you come in the first time?” I asked, arching a playful eyebrow.

“Oh, I…” he said, then rubbed the back of his neck nervously, inadvertently flexing his enormous bicep that strained against the fabric of his shirt.

Something low in my belly clutched at the sight, and I had to drown the whirlwind of images that wanted to bubble up in my mind.

“You…?” I asked leadingly.

“Well, I just didn’t want you to think I was being…insistent.”

Please be insistent.

“Never doubt a compass bird. They know exactly where you’re supposed to be. Cream or sugar for your tea?”

He shook his head.

“Purist. I see,” I said with a laugh.

“Now, tell me all about your voyage here. I want to hear everything.”

“Truly?” he asked, a genuine note of surprise in his voice.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

His manner relaxing, Bjorn began to tell me all about his adventures, from leaving the Frozen Isles to traveling across the open sea.

I worked in the kitchen as he shared the tale.

There was excitement in his voice.

It was clear that he loved an adventure.

I had just taken the farmer’s pie from the oven when he mentioned the Cupid swans on Silver River.

“Oh, they are a menace.” I laughed.

“They nearly caused one of our eldest elder couples to divorce last year! Luckily, Juniper, she’s the herbalist in Moonshine Hollow, was able to make a draft to rescue them from the enchantment. Still, it was all the town could talk about for days. Elder Nona, well into his hundredth year, was voyaging upriver when he got caught in the Cupid swan’s spell. He fell in love with a human bard and tambourine player named Prissy Stockings, who was traveling on the same riverboat. The girl was barely twenty years old,” I said with a laugh.

“Poor thing, she didn’t want to embarrass Elder Nona, but he pursued her earnestly,” I said, setting Bjorn’s food before him.

“Elder Nona’s wife was furious and threatened to roast the Cupid swans for dinner.” Going to the bakery case, I arranged a plate of cookies and petit-fours, then settled in across from Bjorn, pouring myself a cup of tea.

“Once the enchantment was undone, Elder Nona spent the next year earning his wife’s forgiveness. I’d feel sorry for him, but he kept me and Winifred in business. Weekly orders of rainbow zinnias from Winnie and chocolate drop roses from me—both his wife’s favorites. And poor Prissy Stockings never performed in Moonshine Hollow again,” I said, then laughed, Bjorn joining me.

Bjorn watched me carefully as I added my rose-enhanced sugar to my cup.

I was on the fifth teaspoon when I saw him grin.

“It’s a pixie thing,” I lied.

“Is it?” he asked with a playful eyebrow raise.

Chuckling, I shook my head.

“No. It’s a decidedly Rosalyn Hartwood thing. Did you think this plate of desserts was for both of us?” I asked, pulling it toward me, selecting a purple cassis-flavored petit-four, and taking a bite.

Bjorn laughed.

Setting down his spoon, he dipped into his hip bag.

“They may be a little squished,” he said, “but try them,” he said, setting a package of cone-shaped confections before me.

“Thank you,” I said, lifting the packet.

“What are they?” I asked with a laugh.

“Troll noses,” he replied with a grin.

I paused.

“Troll…noses?”

“Candied.”

“I…”

“And made of sugar and elderberries.”

I laughed, then took one of the candies from the bag and popped it into my mouth.

The sweet, fruity, and slightly acidic confection melted on my tongue.

As it dissolved, I detected the spell woven into the confection…

a lightness of spirit and a wisp of whimsy.

“It’s delicious,” I said.

“And so very magical.”

“Mother Urd, as we call her in Frostfjord, makes them. They are my favorite.”

“She’s very talented,” I said simply, not wanting to reveal the magic of another maker.

“Have you lived in Frostfjord all your life?”

At that, Bjorn shifted slightly.

“Um, yes,” he said, nodding as he chewed a bite of my farmer’s pie.

It was then that I noticed the politeness of his table manners.

For some reason, I had thought Rune elf halls to be rowdy places.

Bjorn’s manner was very refined.

“This is very delicious, by the way. I’ve never had anything like it before.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Elder Thornberry was right. You are very talented in the kitchen.”

“See, your compass bird knew,” I replied with a laugh, then asked, “And is your family in Frostfjord?”

“They are,” he answered briefly, then turned back to the food.

“Do you have a big family?”

“Ah, yes…” he said, suddenly uneasy.

He lifted his spoon to eat his soup, lowered it, lifted his tea to drink, and lowered it before taking a drink.

Pausing, he stopped and reorganized his flatware.

Something about his family history was making him nervous, so I changed the subject.

“So, how long have you been Master of Horse?”

“Oh, I…for…some time.”

Another sticky topic?

Why?

“But you enjoy working with horses…and unicorns?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, exhaling deeply with relief.

“I spend as much time as I can riding. Our unicorns are unlike yours here, less elegant and more bedraggled, bulky, and rugged… A bit like Rune elves themselves.”

I laughed.

“I wouldn’t call you bedraggled, but bulky and rugged…”

Bjorn smiled lightly.

Were his cheeks warming red?

“That’s kind of you to say. After a few days on a ship, my beard certainly needs attention,” he said, stroking his facial hair.

“I don’t know,” I said, giving him a warm smile.

“I like it.”

He gave me a grateful smile but looked away shyly.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat.

“The unicorns… Elder Thornberry has said there is something afoot with their magic.”

He nodded.

“I will visit the fields tomorrow and see what I can discover.”

“I hope the elder doesn’t have you camping,” I said with a laugh.

“No, I think there’s a cabin.”

“Hmm,” I said, then rose.

“Let me bag you some scones for breakfast.”

“You’ve already done so much. Please,” he said.

“It’s no problem. I’m happy to help, Bjorn,” I said, giving him a warm—and what I hoped was inviting—smile.

But his reaction was…

confusing.

A flash of some unclear emotion flickered across his face.

He cleared his throat and turned back to his dish, fidgeting with the cutlery again.

Seeming to realize his mistake, he righted his posture and said, “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Rosalyn.”

Ugh, burnt ends!

He has a girlfriend.

That has to be it.

There is another woman back home.

I need to find a way to ask him.

Turning so he wouldn’t see the disappointed expression on my face, I pulled a basket of scones from a shelf.

I set it on the counter, but I was so upended by the thought that he had a girlfriend that I bumped one of the vases sitting on the counter, causing it to topple over and roll toward Merry.

Merry, who had been engaged in a staring contest with Smoke, was surprised at the sudden clatter and presence of something unknown hurtling toward him.

In typical caticorn fashion, he panicked and scramble-jumped to move out of the way.

That’s when everything went wrong.

Desperate to escape before the terrifying flower vase got him, Merry’s horn began to glow.

“Merry,” I called, reaching for the vase before it fell.

And then, there was a blast of bright light and a popping sound.

Suddenly, every flower in every vase in the room levitated into the air.

Merry jumped away from the murderous vase and rushed to his favorite hiding spot behind the sacks of flour when he stopped cold and then sneezed.

The effect was a cloud of glitter, and then, all the flowers in the room simply combusted, drifting apart into ethereal flower petals, their soft scents filling the room.

Bjorn, who had stood in confusion, watched as the flowers dissipated into nothing.

Merry shook himself, the little bell on his collar ringing, then changed course and disappeared into the back of the shop.

Smoke whined and went to stand beside Bjorn.

“Rosalyn,” Bjorn said, looking about.

“Is this…normal?”

“Being scared of ridiculous things? Yes. But this…” I said, gesturing around the room as the petals and aroma dissipated before reaching the tables.

“Definitely not normal. Merry has been having these strange reactions the past few days. I thought maybe it was his allergies, but maybe not. His magic is upside down.”

“Like the unicorns,” Bjorn said.

I gasped lightly.

“Yes. Just like that.”

“Have you heard of any other animals in Moonshine Hollow being afflicted?”

“No. None. Only the unicorns.”

Bjorn nodded.

“And he recovers afterward?”

“Yes, he… Oh my gosh, you're covered in glitter.” Hurrying around the counter, I brushed the glitter from Bjorn’s shoulders, fluttering just a little to meet his height. I giggled. “You got more than you bargained for coming here tonight.”

Bjorn chuckled, then looked at me.

Our gazes held one another’s for a long moment.

Then, he quickly looked away and wrapped his hand around his forearm as if he were in pain.

“Are you all right?” I asked in alarm.

“Yes, it’s just… I should probably get going.”

“Of course. Let me finish bagging up some scones for you,” I said, then returned behind the counter, confused.

“It’s not necessary. I’ve given you enough trouble. What do I owe you for the dinner?” he asked, reaching into his coin pouch.

“Nothing, of course. It’s my welcome gift to you, and my apology for all the…glitter.”

“It really is no problem, Rosalyn. Let me help you with these at least,” he said, reaching for the empty plates.

“No need,” I replied, snapping my fingers. The plates lifted from the table and began floating toward the sink.

At least he liked my cooking, even if Merry’s antics chased him away.

“I…I hope Merry is okay, and I do appreciate your gracious hospitality. You’ve been very kind. Thank you,” he said, then gave me a polite bow.

Signaling to Smoke, he turned and went to the door.

“Good night, Rosalyn,” he said, pausing as his hand rested on the handle. His voice sounded uncertain.

“See you soon,” I replied, trying to sound chipper even though my stomach had formed into a knot of confusion.

With that, he turned and headed outside, leaving me wondering what had gone wrong. Was it Merry? Something I said? Something I did?

“Ugh.” I exhaled deeply, sinking onto one of the stools at the counter. “I will never, ever be able to figure out men. Speaking of which, where are you, Merry? Your cloud of flowers just made my dreams of a fairy tale romance dissipate like smoke. I know you’re a jealous boy, but really, Mer? Really?”

There was no reply from the cat.

Sighing again, I snapped my fingers, sending sparks around the room to extinguish the lights and lock the door.

“In the dark again, Rosalyn.” I sighed and then headed upstairs. “Fitting end to the night. Come on, Merry. I have ice cream upstairs. Let’s go drown our disappointment in sugar. Again.”