She read all that in his eyes? Perhaps she will learn to read his mind in time.
“Yes. Apples mean fall at home in Darlei, though we’ll probably miss the apple processing this year.”
They were supposed to travel to Celesta next week. That seems unlikely to happen now, though. At least not right away. Perhaps they won’t miss the apples completely.
“I should like to visit this shop,” Grandmera announces, and Cerian looks up at a sign full of jumbled letters.
“Feressa has some of the best candy in Nunia,” Arisanna says. “Father always brings some home after he visits. Or Rominy, lately. Father doesn’t travel as much as he used to. He often sends Rominy in his place now.”
Sadness clouds her eyes. How hard it must be to watch your parents grow old so quickly. She’ll live most of her life without them, won’t she? An ache fills his heart over the thoughts she must be thinking herself.
Even if her mother is exhausting.
“Perhaps some sweets will entice Elowyn to eat when she wakes,” Grandmera says.
Cerian struggles not to smile as he crunches into his apple again.
Grandmera could probably convince Elowyn to do just about anything by offering her sweets.
To have an entire shop devoted to them is a foreign thing, but Elowyn would be delighted.
“Come on.” Arisanna pulls him through the door as he tries not to drop his apple.
Around the edges of the store, jars full of more sweets than Cerian knew existed sit on shelves and tables, andalong one wall, the shopkeeper’s counter holds a glass display case full of what must be chocolates, based on Tharios’s description of the human confections.
The idea of biting into something soft and encountering something crunchy makes his stomach roil.
Arisanna. Focus on Arisanna.
Thoughts of his vine slipping beneath that towel distract him until Arisanna looks up at him with knit brows.
Whistling wind. He’s growing warmer, and his heart is racing. That was perhaps unwise.
Chocolates. With nuts inside.
The thought disgusts him, but it tempers his heat.
“I’m not sure if I should ask what you’re thinking or not.” A hint of amusement colors Arisanna’s voice, and he takes another bite of his apple so he won’t have to answer that.
The shopkeeper stands behind the glass case, and while he doesn’t seem thrilled to see them, he keeps his thoughts to himself. Out of habit borne of years of training, Cerian feels for the plants nearby that might answer his call if necessary, but Feressa seems to be a town full of dead wood, and the walls of the shop are quiet when he reaches out to them.
Apparently, only his desire for Arisanna is strong enough to call growth from dead plants at the moment, and the fear nudging at him hinders his focus.
He has no reason to believe they’re in danger, and Grandmera looks relaxed as she lifts jars to peek at the candies inside. Most of them are filled with colorful sticks and drops in every shade imaginable.
“What would you recommend, my youngling?” Grandmera asks Arisanna in Nunian.
“Well, I’m partial to gumdrops and truffles, but I’m not sure Elowyn would appreciate the same things I do.”
Grandmera chuckles. “Elowyn will try anything once.”
“Oh. Well. Perhaps a sampling of all different types, then?” Arisanna lets go of Cerian’s arm. The loss of hertouch leaves him feeling untethered, but he does his best to focus on her.
Not in a towel this time.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but we only take Nunian coin here,” the shopkeeper says.
His tone belies his words about rudeness, and on instinct, Cerian angles himself between the man and Arisanna.
