Page 12 of Sanctuary and Spices (Tales of the Ardent Veil #1)

RONHAR

I let go of Jani quickly, my markings dimming with embarrassment. Her scent lingered—spices and tea, mixed with the metallic tang of the docking portals. The warmth of her skin against mine still burned in my memory.

“Sorry.” I stepped back, giving her space. “We heard about an accident involving a human woman near the portals. When I couldn’t find you at Barou’s...”

“So you thought I’d gotten myself into trouble?” Her lips curved upward, amusement glinting in her eyes.

“With Lyrian showing up at the market earlier...” I stopped, realizing how overprotective I sounded. “I may have overreacted.”

“May have?”

“Would you let me buy you dinner? To apologize for...” I gestured vaguely at the space between us where I’d grabbed her, resisting the urge to reach for her again.

“Dinner?” She tilted her head, as if tasting the idea.

“There’s a small place near the crystal gardens. Good food, quiet atmosphere.”

Her fingers played with the edge of her sleeve. “I should probably work on the festival menu...”

“The menu will wait until tomorrow.” I held my breath, waiting.

“Alright.” She smiled, slow and warm. “Lead the way.”

The restaurant occupied a small space tucked between two larger buildings, its entrance marked by flowing banners embedded with bioluminescent threads. Inside, crystalline formations cast soft light across intimate tables, their glow reflecting in Jani’s eyes.

The owner’s sensory tendrils wove complex patterns as she led us to a corner table. “! It’s been too long.”

I nodded. “Been busy with the garden.”

“And who’s this?” Her tendrils curved toward Jani with interest.

“Jani Crayle. Our new chef.”

“Ah! We’ve heard such interesting things.” She gestured to the table. “I’ll bring your usual. And for you, honored chef?”

Jani studied the menu display. “Whatever he’s having.”

The owner’s tendrils rippled with approval as she moved away.

“You come here often?” Jani asked, watching me with curiosity.

“When I need quiet.” I observed how she examined the crystal formations near our table, the way her fingers twitched like she longed to touch them. “The light patterns help me think.”

“They’re beautiful.” She reached toward one, then hesitated. “Sorry. Chef’s habit—always wanting to touch things.”

“They won’t mind.” I caught her hand, guiding it to the nearest formation. Her skin was warm against mine. “Feel the resonance?”

Her fingers brushed the crystal surface. “It’s warm!”

“They respond to living energy.” I realized I still held her hand and let go—reluctantly. “Like the plants in the garden.”

Food arrived—small plates of local delicacies arranged with careful attention to color and texture. I watched Jani’s expression shift as she tasted each dish, her chef’s training evident in the way she analyzed flavors.

“This sauce...” She studied a golden droplet on her fork. “Sweet, but there’s something underneath. Almost like...”

“Crystallized valthorn. They grow it in specialized chambers on the lower levels.”

“Fascinating.” She tried another bite, eyes lighting up with discovery. “The texture changes as it hits your tongue.”

“The crystals dissolve at different rates based on temperature.”

Her gaze flicked to mine, excitement sparking between us. “Could we use that technique for the festival? Maybe with those mushrooms from the market?”

“Possibly.” I found myself leaning in, drawn to her enthusiasm. “Though we’d need to adjust the resonance patterns.”

“What about combining it with Erynn’s tea preservation methods?” She spoke animatedly, her hands moving expressively.

I listened, captivated—not just by her ideas, but by the way she fit so effortlessly into station life, into my world. But Lyrian’s appearance at the market still nagged at me.

“?” She touched my hand, her warmth sinking into my skin. “You went away for a moment there.”

“Sorry.” I turned my hand over, caught her fingers before she could pull away. “Just thinking about the market.”

“About Lyrian?”

I nodded. “We worked together, years ago. If he’s here officially...”

“You think something’s wrong?”

I studied the way the crystal lights played across her skin. “I think I’m not ready for this evening to end with shop talk.”

Her breath caught. “No?”

“Walk with me? There’s something I want to show you.”

The station’s night cycle had fully engaged, crystal formations glowing stronger to compensate for dimmed environmental lighting. We took the long way back to Barou’s, through corridors where architectural crystals created dancing patterns overhead.

Jani told me about the docking portals, her quick grasp of the tech impressive. I shared stories of the garden’s early days, when the plants fought the station’s artificial environment.

We passed other residents—a Krythari artist arguing with a Pel’ax merchant about crystal resonance frequencies, a group of Ulthari discussing trade route modifications, a pair of human children chasing programmed light patterns along the floor.

The walk to Barou’s ended too quickly. We stood awkwardly at her door, neither quite ready to say goodnight.

“Thank you,” she said. “For dinner. And for caring enough to worry.”

“Thank you for not holding the hug against me.”

Her smile hit me in the chest. “Who says I’m not?”

Before I could answer, the door burst open. Pix bounced out, trailing cables and glowing components.

“Jani! Perfect timing! I’ve almost got the quantum harmonics stabilized for the new cooking system. Just need to test the resonance patterns...”

A small explosion punctuated the sentence. Smoke curled from one of the components.

“Maybe tomorrow?” Jani suggested gently, suppressing a laugh.

“Oh! Oh, right.” Pix looked between us. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt anything!”

The door slid shut behind them. Jani shook her head, still laughing softly.

“I should go check the garden before sleep,” I said, reluctant to leave.

“Right.” She touched my arm briefly, her fingers lingering. “Goodnight, .”

“Goodnight.”

I walked away slowly, my markings still glowing from her touch. The garden could wait until morning.

The café’s early cycle brought its usual quiet energy. I checked the most sensitive plants first, noting how they turned toward the kitchen as Jani moved through her morning routine.

The Khiul sisters arrived as we finished basic prep, their feathers catching light as they entered. The Reythrari twins had been traveling, missing Jani’s arrival at both café and boarding house.

“New spice blends!” Mai announced, spreading sample containers across the prep counter.

Jun circled Jani with bright interest. “So you’re the one everyone’s talking about!”

“The one who made the garden grow brighter,” Mai added.

“The one who had hunting the station yesterday...” Jun’s feathers rippled with amusement.

“Supplies,” I corrected. “I was looking for supplies.”

“Of course you were.” The twins exchanged knowing looks. “Nothing at all to do with growing protective over pretty chefs.”

Jani buried herself in examining the spice samples, but I caught her small smile. And just like that, warmth curled in my chest again.