“I used it early on when I was still learning my craft. Suffice to say, I hadn’t been using it in the best possible ways. I still might not be, but I don’t have the time or resources to experiment.”
She tilted her head at me. “There is no denying you’ve come a long way. Can I do anything to help you?”
I clasped my hands in my lap. “Remember that journal you were able to... procure from the dragon court?” Procure was a much better word thansteal.“The one written by someone being trained directly by the dragon queen?” She inclined her head. “I’d love something like that. My craft grew exponentially after studying those notes. She’s a genius, the dragon queen. She’s earned her reputation as one of the best.”
“Yes, she has certainly made a name for herself and her kingdom.” She pursed her lips, as though annoyed. “I’ll see what I can do,” she finished tersely.
I knew that tone. Her mood had grown darker. She was definitely tired. Annoying her now risked facing repercussions.
I stood gracefully, hurrying but not being obvious about it.
“Aurelia, before you go.” She stood and crossed the room, before bending in the corner. When she straightened, she shook out a bright red cloak made of velvet. “I purchased this for you.”
Delight surged through me. I couldn’t contain my smile. Granny’s gifts were few and far between, but without any family or friends, they were the only ones I was ever given. Each was as amazing as the next, and this was no exception. The cloak was thick and obviously soft, made of fine material, and nicer than anything I owned. The quality was amazing and the sentiment brought a sheen of tears to my eyes.
“Thank you!” I gushed.
“Now, after hearing about the Moonfire Bloom?—“
“Lily,” I accidentally interrupted. Her lips pressed together in annoyance. “Sorry. Moonfire Lily. That’s what it’s called.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
She paused for a tense beat and I clasped my hands in front of me with a bowed head.
“Moonfire Lily,” she finally repeated, her smile not reaching her eyes. “I think you will need the extra warmth of this cloak if you are to scour the forest in the dead of night looking for more.”
My smile burned brighter. Even in a darker sort of mood, she always came through for me. “You mean it? I can leave the paths?”
“You’ll be accompanied, of course.” She bent her head, her gaze severe. “We wouldn’t want you getting lost again.”
One fucking time . . .
“But it seems that flower is a boon to your setup,” she said. “We’ll all benefit if you obtain more. Tell me, why are we not growing it ourselves?”
“I tried with the most recent flower. To replant it, I mean. I think I damaged it too much when I uprooted it, though. I gave the seeds to Raz to plant but I’m not sure if he’s had any luck.And honestly, I don’t really know how seed harvesting works. I might’ve done it wrong.”
“Hmm, yes.” Granny reached around me to drape the cloak on my shoulders. The silk lining on the underside rubbed delicately against my skin and the weight alone told me how much it was worth. Gratitude and love fizzed up through my middle. “Raz is supposed to be the master gardener, is he not? Directing the village on how to garden what you need?”
I paused in drawing the cloak in tighter, my beaming smile freezing. “He is,” I drew out, knowing where this was heading. “But before the town locked down into producing the current product, he was a wood worker. He doesn’t have the natural inclination for gardening. He’s working on it, though. He and I are working on all of this. Together. A team effort.”
“But why didn’t he step in and help harvest the seeds? That falls under his duties, natural inclination or not.”
I searched my brain for a good reason because the actual reasons wouldn’t go over well. Truth was, he hated looking in books for answers; he called it cheating. I suspected that was because he didn’t read very well. He had to rely on what he could figure out, and his talents weren’t in plant investigative analysis. That led to stress, and that ultimately led to sampling way more product than he should—often during the workday, and often at the expense of helping me.
“It’s an unfamiliar plant,” I said with a confident tone, “unlike many he’s used to dealing with. I figured since I had a book that offered some advice, I’d just follow those directions while he was seeing to the garden at large. He probably could’ve. It was my fault, really. It’s okay, I can definitely find more plants, I know I can. Then I’ll just pick the petals I need rather than the whole flower. They last for a long time off the plant, for some reason. I can keep going back for more. It’ll be better this way. More natural.”
She tsked softly. “Trying to take the fall for the malfeasance of others, Aurelia? It’s commendable, but beneath you. It holds you back, which in turn holdsmeback. Holds us all back. The wellbeing of the people in this village depends on the quality and quantity of your supply. I cannot keep the children in their expensive boots, or with their many learning devices, or keep roofs over their heads without something to sell at market, now can I?”
“No, ma’am,” I said dutifully, my stomach twisting at the mention of the children.
“No. And so you’ll need to start taking these people in hand. I can’t be here all the time.”
Uncomfortable tingles washed over me. I didn’t want to step into her job. It made me queasy thinking about upholding the rules and doling out punishments for those who broke them. I’d had a history of bearing the brunt of violence, of watching it destroy everything I knew—I couldn’t stomach the idea of inflicting that pain on anyone else, even if it was just temporary.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said anyway, hoping it didn’t come to that.
She squeezed my upper arm. “Good girl. Now, why don’t you run along and get some rest, okay? You’ve earned it.”
“Yes, Granny.”
