33. Chapter 33

Chapter thirty-three

Fenella

T he lights are on at The King's Hat.

I've never been inside Kalle's pub when there wasn't a crowd around the bar and the pool table wasn't filled with fishermen talking trash about their catches, storms, and whose boats are the biggest.

The pool table is full, but with pumpkins. A piece of plywood covers the green felt, and at least a dozen pumpkins sit on top.

Sheets of plastic cover most of the surfaces.

"No beer until the knives are away," Edie calls over the din of people greeting each other.

Silas leads me to one of the few booths and I slide in across from him. A pumpkin sits before me, smooth and round and unyielding. Silas sets a knife and a spoon— a spoon —before me.

He brought me here because he thinks I fit in with Battle Harbour. The group of twentysomethings who work for a living. Socialize together .

His friends.

Silas brought me into a group of his friends, and I am not going to give him any reason to think that I don't fit in.

I pick up the knife and eying the pumpkin, I stab it.

"What are you doing?"

"Making an eye."

"You have to clean it out first." He looks at me quizzically. "You know that, right?"

"Sure." What exactly am I supposed to clean?

"Fenella." Silas drops his voice. "Have you never carved a pumpkin before?"

My shoulders slump. Why am I bothering pretending that I belong here with these people who know how to attack a defenceless vegetable—or is it a fruit—with a knife sharp enough to draw blood? "Of course not," I say glumly. "We had people for that. Every year, Ashton and I would get a birthday party and there would be tons of jack-o'-lanterns and I have no idea how they came to be, or who even carved or cleaned or whatever it is that I'm supposed to do."

Silas pulls his orange globe closer. "You have to get the insides out before you can create your masterpiece." He takes his knife and carves a circle around what's left of the stem.

"Once it's open, you pull out the guts." He sticks in his hand and pulls out a clump of glistening orange tendrils dotted with seeds. "You can use the spoon for that, but it's better to get your hand in there. "

I copy what he did. Maybe my opening is a little bigger than Silas's but it doesn't look too bad. But when I plunge my hand inside— "It's cold," I cry with delight. "And kind of gross." I pull out my hand. "Ew."

"Save the seeds," Silas suggests. "You can roast them."

"Why?"

"They taste good."

"I've had pumpkin seeds in salads, but these look different."

"The pepitas are inside but it's better to roast them like that with a salt. They're good for you. Maybe not the salt."

"You should sell them," I say without thinking. "Roast a bunch and put them in little baggies with a ribbon and sell them at the coffee shop. A pre-Halloween snack."

Silas looks at me strangely. "That's a really good idea."

"I'm full of them."

"Fenella!"

I look up to see Sophie Laz with a pumpkin and knife in hand. "I didn't expect to see you. I thought you'd be doing party stuff." She looks genuinely happy to see me and slides into the booth beside me.

"I've done everything I can do tonight," I tell her. "Silas thought I needed a lesson in pumpkin carving."

He pokes the stab wound on the pumpkin. "Do you blame me?"

"How's the guest list coming?" Sophie asks as she attacks her fruit with a skill that suggests numerous pumpkins have been carved.

"It's over fifty now. I had to cap it at sixty-five, but I'm sure not all of those will come."

"You invited sixty-five people to your party?" Silas sounds choked.

"That's the A list. I could have two hundred and fifty if we had the space."

"The A list," he mutters.

Sophie's eyes widen. "Are a lot of your friends coming? Is your brother?"

"The Brats are, and Ashton. A couple of girls I know from modelling, but I tried to keep to those who won't post every detail all over TikTok."

I had talked to Gunnar about this before he left for his trip. The king had graciously banned all international press from Laandia during my visit, but as helpful as that was to keeping the Fenella fans and haters away, there were still influencers and regular folks who used their phones to get the word out.

Between the two of us, we came up with a list of those who didn't rely on followers or likes to have a good time. I've kept a low profile for the last two weeks, and no one is more surprised than me that it feels amazing not having the world know my every move.

My closest friends will be here, but most of the guest list is made up of those from Laandia.

But I'm not telling Silas that.

I chat with Sophie as I take my time with the pumpkin, freeing all the seeds from the strings before I attack the outside with the knife. My face is basic triangles and a huge mouth that should have had teeth, but like I told Silas, I don't have knife skills.

"What do you think? I turn my pumpkin to face Silas. "My first time."

"I bet you don't say that too often," he says, turning it this way and that. "You seem to have done everything."

"It's surprising how many firsts I've had since I've been here," I admit.

He glances at me with a half-smile. "And has that been good for you?"

Good for me? Since when does anyone ask if something is good for me? I nod. "I think so."

"This looks great." He spins it around to face me.

"It looks like a face, doesn't it?" The eyes are different sizes and the mouth ended up more of a hole, but at least it will show lots of light.

I like it. It's my first jack-o'-lantern.

"It does."