Chapter 21

A s the morning blossomed into afternoon, Evelyn and Coren continued their respective delivery routes, wandering leisurely through the farming village, before returning to the city. Coren had a few deliveries to make, and Evelyn accompanied him, even when her own work was done. Nareen had her own purpose, too, and managed to seek out several kindhearted dock workers who tossed her some scraps from their lunch sacks. The chef at a waterfront tavern offered the dog a bit of fat she'd scraped to the side of her prep table when Coren stopped in to deliver a bundle of assorted herbs.

As they walked, their conversation meandered, like the slow-moving current of a lazy creek. Coren pointed out various shops and eateries to Evelyn, asking if she'd had a chance to stop in at each one, and upon learning she hadn't, made her a list of those he thought were most worthy of her time. They talked about books outside a cramped shop near the plaza, as it was one place Evelyn had made time for, though it hadn't yielded anything by way of magic tomes. However, she'd purchased a battered copy of a book with a golden whale embossed on the leather cover after the seller promised it was an adventure not to be missed. If nothing else, she thought Maeve might enjoy it.

The sun was beginning to droop in the sky by the time Coren's cart was empty. Down by the water, the workers would soon call it a day and head to the nearest tavern or inn for supper and evening entertainment. Evelyn's own stomach was beginning to rumble and churn. As they walked, they'd nibbled at the loaf of dark molasses bread one of the farmers had given as payment, along with a good amount of the tangy block of aged cheese Lenora had insisted she take.

"I have one last stop," Coren said as they reached the marketplace plaza in the heart of old town. When Evelyn glanced over her shoulder at the empty cart, he added, "I need to pick up a payment, is all," and gestured toward the bakery Evelyn had visited on her first day in town.

"Of course. I'll wait here and keep Nareen company."

The dog padded to Evelyn's side and sat down. Coren smiled at them, then turned and ducked inside the bakery.

The jingle of the bells on the bakery's door was soon joined by the sound of wild giggles and thundering footsteps as a cluster of children raced up the street. A tall, gangly goblinkin boy with dark hair and pale blue skin had the lead, his long arms stretched overhead to hold a ball out of the reach of the others. The two nearest children were laughing and jumping at his heels, trying to knock the ball free, while three smaller children struggled to catch up. Among them was Fiona, the sweet faun child, her mossy green hair tumbling free of the two braids bouncing over her shoulders.

Evelyn smiled as the older boy waited for the younger ones to catch up before he put the ball on the ground and gave it a kick, sending it flying across the plaza, past the fountain. Fiona and the others let out a cheer and gave chase, each of them eager to retrieve the ball, and the game unfolded from there.

Evelyn was still watching from the outskirts of the plaza when Coren emerged from the bakery, sliding his coins into his pocket, while his other hand held a small package, wrapped in plain brown paper.

"Who's winning?" he asked with a grin as he sidled up to her.

She laughed softly and shook her head. "I'm not sure I understand the rules."

Coren chuckled. "I'm not sure they do, either, truth be told." He passed her the package. "Here," he said, "this is for you."

Evelyn frowned as she took it. "What for?" she asked, peeling back the paper just enough to catch a peek at the small tart. Her eyes widened. "Chocolate? This must have cost a rivermark!"

He gave a simple shrug. "Do you like chocolate?"

Evelyn nearly laughed. "Are there people who don't?"

Coren chuckled. "I imagine there must be."

"Fools," Evelyn said with a grin. "This is too generous, though."

"You shared your lunch with me," he said, gesturing to the cart where the last bits of cheese sat among the crumbs left from the loaf of bread.

Evelyn canted her head to one side, then glanced around the plaza. "Why do I feel like we've already had this argument once before? Involving a stray rivermark?"

Coren's eyes danced with mirth as he laughed and bobbed his head. "I suppose you're right. Although you'll have to remind me, which of us won that round?"

Evelyn smiled as she eyed the chocolate tart. Giving up a rivermark that never belonged to her was easy enough. But this…

Her gaze flicked up to meet his and she drew the tart closer to her nose, breathing in the decadent aroma. "I'll be gracious and let you win this time."

Coren's smile widened and illuminated his gray eyes. "That is most generous of you, Evelyn."

She plucked a bit of the shaved chocolate from the top and placed it on the tip of her tongue, letting it melt as her eyes fell closed. It was rich and creamy, balanced perfectly between the bitter notes of the cocoa and the sweetness of the sugarcane.

When her eyes fluttered open once more, she found Coren staring back at her. Heat washed over her and she quickly ducked her chin, hiding her face behind her curls, as she made a show of folding the paper carefully around the delicate treat before slipping it into her satchel. "I suppose I should save the rest until after I've had a proper meal."

A sharp cry was followed by several gasps, then the loud, wailing sob of a child. Evelyn snapped around and found Fiona crumpled on the ground, clutching at her knee.

Without hesitating, Evelyn swooped across the plaza and kneeled down before the faun girl. The teary-eyed girl looked up and an unexpected smile worked across her delicate face, even as a tear trickled down her cheek. "Evelyn!"

"Fiona, are you all right?"

The girl pursed her lips and nodded, which only managed to send a tear streaming down her other cheek. "I—I got pushed and skinned my knee."

"I didn't mean to!" the goblinkin boy said, appearing on the verge of tears himself as he hovered over Fiona. The other children stood wide-eyed and worried. "Fiona, it was an accident!"

"It's all right," Evelyn said, glancing up at the boy for a brief moment before turning her head back to Fiona's fur-covered leg. "May I see?"

Fiona nodded, still trying to hold back her tears. She shifted and uncovered her knee, revealing a small gash.

"Let's get it cleaned up," Evelyn said, relieved it was not more serious. "I've got something here?—"

She reached into her bag, feeling the eyes of the other children at her back.

"Get away from her!"

Evelyn's head jerked up and found Fiona's mother, Aggy, storming across the plaza, her hooved feet clomping angrily against the cobbles.

Fiona winced.

"I was only trying to help," Evelyn began.

Aggy yanked Fiona up from the ground. "What have I told you about this? You're too small to keep up with these kids," she exclaimed, all but dragging her daughter out of the plaza. She hesitated once to look back at Evelyn, fire blazing in her dark eyes. "You stay away from her, too!"

"Mom, Evelyn was?—"

"Enough, Fiona!"

Evelyn stood up, her lips pressed together against the onslaught of emotions.

Whispers and questions swirled among those gathered to see the scene unfold, and Evelyn's face burned hot with shame. She'd stood in the presence of the king and listened to him rant and rave and hurl accusations at her, but this… this was too much to stand. Her legs suddenly felt shaky beneath her.

Strong fingers wrapped around hers, and wordlessly, she let Coren lead her out of the plaza.

Even without live music, The Kelpie's Rest was lively and bustling with patrons eager for a hot meal at the end of a long day. Evelyn appreciated the distraction, as watching the activity in the busy tavern was better than sitting with her own thoughts.

"You're sure you're all right?" Coren asked, concern brimming in his eyes. He sat across the small corner table from her, Nareen crowded in beneath it, resting between their feet and waiting for a scrap to fall.

Evelyn fussed with the hand-carved salt and pepper shakers, spinning them around one another, as though the wooden kelpies were engaged in some sort of dance.

"Evelyn?"

"Hmm?" She looked up, but couldn't find a reassuring smile to offer to him.

"We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," Coren said.

The truth of it all surged to the tip of her tongue, desperate to come out in a heap of frustration and despair and longing and confusion. She wanted to tell him everything—to unburden herself from the secrets and the half-truths she'd been forced to tell since arriving in the harborside town.

"It's a misunderstanding," she said. "That's all."

"And you're all right?"

"I am." Evelyn smiled, though it didn't feel wholly authentic. "Thank you, though."

Coren nodded slowly, but she could see the questions lingering in his eyes. However, if he thought to pry further, he was cut off when Lou approached and took their order. As she left to return to the kitchen, a roar of applause went through the room, and Evelyn turned to find a lanky man with shoulder-length hair and a beak-like nose beaming at the packed dining hall, a lute in his hands.

Ah, so that was the reason for the crowd.

Nareen poked her nose out from under the table as another server passed, carrying a tray filled with steaming plates and bowls. Coren muttered a reminder that she was to stay put. The dog let out a pitiable whine and placed her head back on her front paws.

The bard took to the stage and wasted no time, immediately striking up his first song of the night. As before, the crowd largely seemed to know the lyrics and joined in on the chorus. Others got to their feet and began to dance. Between the noise of the other patrons and the music, all hopes of carrying on much of a conversation faded.

After they finished their meal—which was quite excellent and sharpened Evelyn's regrets about running out on it the first time she'd visited the tavern—Lou swept over with a pitcher, nearly sloshing some of the ale into Coren's lap as she leaned over and grinned. "Go on, you two! Get out there and show the rest of these louts how it's done!"

A mix of jeers and laughter bubbled up as Lou danced away to pour refills for the lively group at the end of the bar. Some of the surrounding couples seemed to take up Lou's taunt as a challenge, and rose to beat Coren and Evelyn to the cleared space before the small stage.

Coren's dimple wavered as he looked from Evelyn to the contents of his ale, then back again. "We don't have to," he assured her. "If you don't want to."

Evelyn's pulse quickened. "Do you?"

Coren smiled, a little shyly, and offered her his hand across the table. "I should warn you, I don't know many of the proper steps."

Evelyn slipped her hand into his and let him pull her gently to her feet. "I don't, either."

Coren chuckled. "What a fine pair we'll make, then?"

Smiling, they found their own place in the press of bodies gathered around the bard. As far as Evelyn could tell, no one was following any one set of steps, or even the same rhythm, though that seemed more to correlate to how much ale and wine the dancers had indulged in throughout their meal.

The bard played faster, spurned on by the lively pace of the dancers, and Lou led a chorus of cheers and off-beat clapping from behind the bar. One man in the corner sang along, though he was terribly off key.

Evelyn's dress swirled around her as Coren spun her across the dance floor, and she laughed as he gathered her to him, only to twirl her away just as quickly. Their laughter mingled with the music, and Coren's eyes sparkled as he led her through a particularly clumsy turn, his grin infectious. Evelyn felt a bubbling joy rise within her, taking the place of the hot shame from the scene in the plaza.

As Coren pulled her back towards him, the pace of the music slowed, and he did not spin her back into a circle, instead drawing her to his chest, one hand resting on the small of her back. His palm fanned out and sent an unexpected rush of heat through her body. Their eyes locked, and Evelyn's breath caught in the back of her throat as Coren's gaze dropped to her parted lips.

The music slowed as the bard dragged out the final note, his honeyed voice warbling, but neither Coren or Evelyn made a move to break apart. Instead, it seemed as though the tavern itself had faded away, the beating of their hearts the only sound accompanying the final swell of music.

An uproar of cheering and applause startled Evelyn, and she flinched backward, but Coren caught her fingers just before they slid from his palm. "Tired of me already?" he asked with a half-crooked smile.

Evelyn's chest rose and fell quickly, her mind returning to that morning, as they'd stood so close under the withered trees in the orchard.

"No," she breathed. "It's just… rather warm in here, is all."

Coren searched her face, his smile fading slightly.

The bard began his next song, this one slower and softer, leading the other couples on the floor to move in closer and whisper to one another. Evelyn shifted her gaze from a pair of young lovers, lost in a passionate kiss in the corner of the tavern, and offered Coren a smile. "Perhaps some fresh air would be nice."

He looked ready to argue, but then ducked his chin and released her hand. "Right. Let me settle this with Lou."

Evelyn followed him away from the dancing, already digging through her pocket to find some spare fernels. "Here—" she said, extending them toward Coren.

"There's no need," he said. "It was my suggestion, after all."

He approached the bar and handed Lou the coins. The woman slipped a glance past him, toward Evelyn, and she ducked her chin, avoiding the question in her eyes.

Surely any number of women in the room would be thrilled to find themselves in Coren's arms, and here Evelyn was, trying to slip free. Even she could not fully say why.

When they were outside, Nareen trotted ahead, though she stopped to sniff at the corners of the shops and homes they passed along the way. Evelyn tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then glanced over at Coren. "Thank you for dinner. Are you sure I can't repay you?"

"I'm sure," he replied with a smile. "Was the food all right? It seems you may have something of an aversion to the place."

"Oh. Right." Evelyn exhaled slowly. "About that first time, Coren, it wasn't you or the food."

Two lines appeared between Coren's brow. "All right?"

"It seems there are some in town who don't much like the idea of witches, and I had the misfortune of selecting an inn run by such a person on my first night in Shieglas. An orc and his wife, a?—"

"Ah, the faun," Coren interjected.

Evelyn dropped her chin. "That's right. The same one from this afternoon, in the plaza. The girl is named Fiona. I hope she didn't get into trouble on my account."

"You were only trying to help," Coren told her, his hand taking hers.

"I guess, growing up in Everspring Glade, I was never exposed to a world without witches and magic, let alone a place where such things are looked down on. Is it because of the blight?" she asked, looking up at him. "I've heard some of the farmers say it's a curse from a witch."

"No one can say for sure, but there are stories of a witch who came in on a merchant ship, and stayed through the winter. Different folks have different versions as to who caused her some manner of offense, but some say they saw the witch going through the farmland, leaving a trail of withered trees and fields in her wake. She left on a ship just before spring, and every year the blight gets worse."

"And when was all of this?"

"Two summers ago."

"So now every witch who passes through must be up to no good?" Evelyn said with a scoff. She shook her head, sending her loose curls whipping around her shoulders.

Coren squeezed her hand, drawing her attention back to him. "A few may think such things, but they are hardly the majority. Look at all the good you've done, especially for those in the farms. I've seen the way they fight for your favor and attention." His smile widened. "You cannot let a few small-minded folk dissuade you. Their opinion matters not a twig."

Evelyn laughed softly. "Not a twig, huh?"

He chuckled. "Something my granny used to say, I suppose."

"I like it."

Coren's eyes glowed as he considered her. "She would have adored you. She always had a soft place in her heart for feisty women."

"That so?" Evelyn's brow arched. "Sounds like I would have adored her, too, then."

The quiet smile stretched between them as they continued to walk down toward Sailcloth Row.

They walked quite closely as they turned onto the Row, and when they reached Evelyn's door, she held more tightly to Coren's hand, not wanting him to go. The moonlight cast a soft glow over his features, highlighting the warmth in his eyes. She found herself lost in them, just as she had been on the dance floor.

"I suppose this is goodnight," Coren said softly.

"I suppose it is," Evelyn replied, but made no move to release his hand or turn toward her door.

Coren took a small step closer, closing the already narrow gap between them. "Evelyn, I?—"

She looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat. "Yes?"

He reached up with his free hand, gently cupping her cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine. "May I?"

Evelyn nodded, almost imperceptibly, her eyes never leaving his.

He leaned in slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away. But Evelyn found herself rising up on her toes to meet him halfway. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss that deepened as her hand moved to his chest. The beating of his steady heart raced beneath her palm, matching the rhythm of her own.

When they finally parted, both slightly breathless, Evelyn's cheeks warmed and Coren's eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He rested his forehead against hers, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth .

"Goodnight, Evelyn," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

"Goodnight, Coren," she replied, her voice barely audible.

Nareen let out an impatient bark from the end of the street, and Coren reluctantly stepped back, their hands slowly slipping apart. Evelyn watched him walk away, and only when he'd turned the corner did she brush her fingertips over her lips, where the tingling warmth of the kiss still lingered.

The fluttering of curtains caught her eye, and she turned toward Maeve's shop in time to find Sio hauling the cobbler back from the window.

Evelyn laughed softly to herself, and went inside.