19. Rian

19

RIAN

I shift in my large seat, one of the seats in the town hall designed specifically for bigger species, as the town council meeting buzzes to life around me. The wooden bench creaks under my muscular frame, drawing a sideways glance from the grumpy troll beside me. I flash him an apologetic smile.

My eyes scan the crowded room, taking in the eclectic mix of magical beings packed into the hall. Pixies flutter and chatter in one corner while a sleek centaur looms in the back. The air hums with dozens of overlapping conversations.

There’s always a certain energy to these meetings, a sense that beneath the squabbles and debates, we’re all in this together. Elderberry Falls is more than just a town. It’s a community in the truest sense. Being here with my neighbors, feeling that connection, it warms me from the inside out.

I crane my neck, searching for a glimpse of blonde hair, or a flash of red lipstick. For Natalie.

I know it’s a long shot that she’d show up tonight, even with the council set to vote on the chain business ban. She’s made it pretty clear she has no intention of staying in Elderberry Falls.

And yet, some foolish part of me can’t help but hope.

The sharp rap of a gavel snaps me to attention as the council calls the meeting to order. I settle back into my seat, ready to focus on the issues at hand.

“Our first order of business,” announces Councilwoman Maple, a stately dryad, “is the color scheme for the new town square gazebo.”

Oh boy, here we go.

“As I’ve said before,” Maple, a dryad, continues, “a natural wood finish is the only appropriate choice. It will blend seamlessly with the surrounding greenery and honor the gazebo’s rustic charm.”

“With all due respect, Councilwoman,” interjects a glittering fae representative, “I must disagree. The gazebo should reflect the magical essence of our community. I propose an iridescent paint job that will shimmer and change with the light.”

Murmurs ripple through the crowd as people begin to take sides. I can’t help but chuckle under my breath. Leave it to Elderberry Falls to get this fired up over a gazebo.

One by one, impassioned residents approach the podium to make their case. A wizened elf advocates for a muted green to match the town’s famous elderberry leaves. A boisterous faun suggests a bold rainbow motif. The debate grows more animated by the minute, voices rising and arms and wings gesticulating wildly.

Finally, the town’s mayor raises his hands for silence. “It seems we have quite the dilemma on our hands,” he says, his mouth quirked in amusement. “This matter is clearly of the utmost importance. I move that we table the issue and hold a special vote at a later date.”

A chorus of groans and applause mingles in response. I shake my head, grinning. Never a dull moment in this town.

The council moves on to other agenda items and my thoughts drift back to Natalie. I wonder if Elderberry Falls has felt any more like a home to her over these past weeks than it did at first. If she could imagine herself here, no longer an outsider.

I glance once more around the room and sigh.

The room erupts into a flurry of whispers and irritated grumbles as the next topic is introduced: magical pet regulations. I sit up straighter, my ears perking up at the mention of recent mischief caused by unsupervised creatures around town.

A prim, well-dressed elf steps up to the podium, her lips pursed in disapproval. “There’s a glowkitten and a teacup boar running amok in the streets,” she declares, her voice shrill with indignation. “The glowkitten creates these elaborate distractions while the boar steals food right out of people’s hands! It’s an outrage!”

I stifle a laugh as the pet’s identities dawn on me. That has to be Ecco’s glowkitten, Minx, and Thorak and Mariah’s teacup boar, Snuffles. I’ve caught those two troublemakers sneaking around the Hungry Minotaur more than once.

The elf continues, her tone growing more strident. “It’s high time we consider implementing leash laws in Elderberry Falls. We can’t have these creatures running wild any longer!”

The crowd erupts into a chorus of angry protests. “Leash laws?” someone shouts. “We’re not barbarians!”

I nod in agreement, my brow furrowing. The thought of leashing up any magical creature, even mischievous ones, feels wrong. It goes against everything Elderberry Falls stands for.

The council members exchange glances, clearly taken aback by the strong response. After a moment of hurried discussion, they announce a compromise.

“We’ll put out a public service announcement reminding residents to keep a closer eye on their pets,” the mayor declares. “But let’s hold off on any drastic measures for now.”

A murmur of grudging assent ripples through the room. Crisis averted, for the moment.

The real challenge is still to come. As the council introduces the next item on the agenda, my stomach tightens.

The proposed ban on chain businesses—the very thing that brought Natalie into my life, and now threatens to drive her away.

“As you all remember, there is a supposed chain business interested in buying property in Elderberry Falls.” This is it.

The mayor continues on, “After investigation we have determined this is a real offer. Our research into similar situations indicated that allowing large corporations to own and operate inside Elderberry Falls could be extremely detrimental to our community. The details can be read in full in our published report.”

Despite the earlier ruckus not a single noise echoes within the town hall.

Everyone knows this is serious business.

“The council has set forth measures that, when passed, would create a ban on all large conglomerates from operating within our town. To clarify, our bill defines a conglomerate or large corporation as any business with more than four locations already in operation.”

The mayor glances up, and his eyes meet mine as he says, “As always, before a vote, we open up the floor to our residents to hear what they have to say.”

I watch as a number of individuals rise to make their thoughts known to the council. I feel eyes on me—many expect me to say something, I know. I was the one who brought up the matter, but I can’t make myself rise.

An old gnome protests that four was too large a number, anything over two should be considered large. The majority praised the council for such sound judgment.

Finally, it is put to a vote. A chorus of “ayes” filled the town hall; I don’t hear a single “nay.”

So that settles it—the property next door to my bakery won’t be sold to Munchin’ Morsels. I should feel victorious—after all, this is what I wanted. But instead I just feel hollow.

Back at The Hungry Minotaur, I stare out the window. The cobblestone paths and ornate fountain of the town square barely register as my thoughts return unerringly to Natalie.

I replay the moment I told her the truth about the journals in my head, as I’ve done already a thousand times. The hurt and confusion in her eyes after my confession haunts me, and the ensuing radio silence, despite my message in the journals, only amplifies the ache in my chest.

I’ve always prided myself on being honest, but now my lack of transparency may have cost me something precious.

“Dad, what is going on with you?” Jessa’s exasperated voice cuts through my musings, pulling me back to the present. I blink, refocusing on my daughter’s concerned face. “You’ve been zoned out all afternoon. And do you realize that that tray of muffins has been in the oven for an hour…but you never turned it on? You’re acting weird lately, and don’t try to deny it. Is it...girl problems?”

My eyes widen, caught off guard by her perceptiveness. When did my little girl become so astute?

I open my mouth to deflect, but Jessa presses on, her focus unwavering. “I’ve seen the way you and Natalie look at each other.”

Sighing, I run a hand over my face. Navigating the complexities of my love life is uncharted territory, especially with my daughter. After all, it’s been as long as Jessa’s been alive since I’ve even had a love life to speak of.

As I meet Jessa’s eyes, I’m struck by the maturity and concern I find there. She deserves the truth.

“You’re right, Jessa,” I admit. “Things with Natalie are… complicated. I care about her a lot, but I may have messed things up by not being completely upfront with her about something.”

Jessa’s expression softens, and she reaches out to squeeze my hand. “You know, Dad, girls like it when guys are really honest with them. Maybe you just need to tell her how you feel, like really feel.”

I’m struck by the simple wisdom of her words.

“Like, when Allegra and Damian and I were out together a few weeks ago, and Allegra had such a big crush on Damian and he kind of knew it, and then she tried on this terrible purple sweater at the vintage store, with all these enchanted pompoms. Damian told her she looked good but she could tell he was lying, and it made her totally not like him anymore.” She rolls her eyes and I laugh.

“So, did she get the sweater?”

As Jessa launches into the full tale, I reflect that maybe it really is that simple. Maybe I just need to lay my cards on the table, vulnerabilities and all, and trust that Natalie will see the sincerity in my heart.

Jessa eventually heads upstairs to work on her homework. I beeline straight for my office.

Seated at my desk, the enchanted journal lies open before me. Its blank pages seem to taunt me, a stark reminder of the unanswered message I’d sent days ago now. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the vulnerability I know I need to embrace if I have a chance of getting through to Natalie.

I begin to write, the words pouring out of me like a dam finally breaking.

Natalie –

I’m so sorry for not being completely honest with you from the start. The truth is, my attraction to you has scared me from the moment we first met. I haven’t been with anyone since my wife passed, and the fear of opening my heart again has held me back. Yes, I wanted to convince you not to sell to Munchin’ Morsels, but I also wanted to get to know you. I went about it the wrong way.

As I write, something in my chest loosens, a tension I didn’t even know I was holding.

I know I made a mistake by not telling you the truth sooner. It was never my intention to deceive you. I genuinely want to make things right between us. I understand if you can’t forgive me, but I hope you’ll consider meeting with me in person so I can explain everything.

– Rian

With a final flourish, I sign my name, my heart pounding as I watch the ink dry on the page. Minutes tick by, each second an eternity as I stare at the journal, hoping for a response.

I know it’s silly, though. Natalie could be out, or the journal could be in another room. There’s no guarantee that she’ll even see the message tonight.

But just as I sigh and boot up my laptop, resigning myself to an evening of wrestling with the monthly accounts for the bakery, the pages begin to glow, and Natalie’s familiar handwriting appears.

Let’s meet in person. Tomorrow.

A mix of relief and nervous excitement washes over me. I quickly scribble back a response, suggesting we meet in the town square the following afternoon.

Her reply is swift and simple .

I’ll be there.