Chapter 24

One Month Later

Jakob

Winter comes slowly in Gravenland, but soon, word spreads that the lake is frozen and cold-weather activities are in full swing.

Jo turns to me one morning as we wash up our breakfast dishes and says, "I go back to work tomorrow, and I haven't heard much in the way of the palace looking for you. Maybe we should venture out into the village today."

"How can I say no to my wife?"

I'm still not used to saying it, but it still makes me happy.

On this day, we venture into the village to shop for holiday gifts and take in some hockey, hot cocoa, and ice skating.

"Josie, dear! Where have you been? We missed you at the winter festival last week," exclaims Sandra, her stall showcasing holiday ornaments, crafts, teas, and dried herbs. Every shop and stall in the village is festively decorated for winter. Though the tourists are mostly gone, the locals bustle along the streets merrily, bundled in their winter gear.

Jo smiles and greets the older woman with a hug. "Good to see you, Sandra. Suffice it to say, we took an extended honeymoon."

Sandra's gaze shifts from Jo to me, her eyes wide in curiosity. "Honeymoon?"

Jo glances at me, reaches over and squeezes my hand. "Yes. We got married."

Sandra looks like she could be knocked over with a feather. She splutters. "My goodness! When did this happen?"

Jo and I exchange knowing looks, remember that day we made it official.

"About a month ago," she says, rather sheepishly. "In Salska."

"Oh, Jo, you should have let the village host a proper wedding for you!" Sandra exclaims.

"We wanted to keep it small. So we eloped. Neither of us are big on extravagancies, so we just decided to do it."

Sandra is utterly gobsmacked. "I never would have suspected. Our Jo, running off to get married." She turns to me with shining eyes, and I can see that she really does care about Josephine. "I do hope you know what a jewel you have, Jakob."

She hugs me hard, though her frame is thin and frail.

"Before you go—" says Sandra, opening a small paper shopping bag. She doesn't finish that sentence but busies herself by carefully packaging some delicate holiday ornaments. We wait. She hands the bag to me and adds, "Consider this your wedding gift from me. It's not much."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Jo assures her, but Sandra waves her off.

"Yes, I do," the woman says firmly.

We thank her warmly, and she adds, "Be sure to stop by the pastry shop. Something tells me they might have a gift for you lovebirds."

"What does she mean by that?" I whisper to Jo as she browses a stall selling loose leaf teas in what looks like thousands of different varieties.

Jo smirks. "I suspect it means that now that the cat is out of the bag, the news of our marriage will spread around the village so fast that we'll be loaded down with gifts and trinkets before the day's end."

Sure enough, the tea stall owner has overheard everything and loads us up with mulling spices and other holiday blends, all divided into pretty little reusable tins. "This is a special blend I wasn't going to debut until tourist season, but you two can be my guinea pigs. Seems appropriate enough."

When I inspect the tin, it says something about enhancing fertility. Oh my god.

I suspect Jo is right about the village. Not only is everyone buzzing around us the more we shop, but after a couple of hours, we have more presents than we know what to do with. Bottles of wine, champagne, treats from the chocolatier, free lunch at the deli, bags of treats for the animals at the pet store, vouchers for free chicken feed and bird seed from the garden center, local honey, more venison jerky than either of us can eat in a year, and that's just the beginning.

Hours later, our final stop is the bakery.

"Oh no," Jo says, laughing as she stops near the window of the shop.

"What is it?" I ask.

She points to the display, and it's a three-tiered cake. White fondant icing done in a detailed quilted pattern with expertly crafted sugared flower decorations.

I scoff. "There's no way that's for us, Jo. Bakers display wedding cakes in their shop windows all the time; that's how they draw business."

Jo shakes her head. "You don't know Mirror Lake."

This can't be for us. How would they have had the time?

But when we enter the shop, there are more than two dozen villagers inside waiting on us, watching us expectantly.

As soon as they see us, the crowd bursts into a rousing rendition of a traditional Gravenland drinking song often sung at weddings…and sometimes funerals. And as Jo suspected, the cake is for us. Jo and I are treated to slices of delicious cake, and the baker sends us home with extra pieces. With a wink, the baker assures us he'll freeze the topmost tier and save it for our anniversary.

On the way home, we pass Sabine's. The sounds of lively music drifts out the door as customers bustle in and out of the pub.

The attention is getting to be too much for me, and now seems like the perfect place to grab a drink.

Sabine meets us on the sidewalk before we can enter, however, and wraps Jo up in a tight hug.

She exclaims with tears in her eyes. "Jo! Jakob! I promise I'm not responsible for everyone finding out the news!"

Jo assures her we assumed nothing of the sort.

"We just came by for a drink before heading home. Today has been a lot. For both of us," Jo tells her friend.

Sabine shakes her head, gesturing toward the pub. "You don't want to go in there, then. Not unless you want to get absolutely smashed from unlimited rounds of free drinks and be forced to listen to hours of contradictory, drunken advice from every old married man in the village. You two had better scoot."

We thank our friend Sabine and head home.

It's nice that some people know how to look out for their introvert friends.