Johanna wiped her hands on her apron. "Well, I don't have much left today, but you're welcome to the lot for three coppers."
"Don't look at me," Lewis objected. “Viv is buying today because she locked me in that godsforsaken oven of a library again."
Vivienne scoffed. "At no point were you locked in. The pastry was meant to be payment for your assistance in cataloging the maps."
Lewis raised a pointed finger in protest. "It’spastries," he insisted, his golden-brown eyes peeking above his spectacles.
Try as she might, Vivienne couldn’t say 'no' to him. Twenty-four years of memories, friendship, and negotiations always worked against her. She rustled through her tote, retrieving the agreed-upon three coppers.
"When does Briar come home?" Johanna asked, moving the pastries from the basket into a small, woven bag.
For a moment, Vivienne let the silence stretch between them, the lamps flickering over the yellow and blue mosaic tiles lining the walls. Five years had passed since Briar came to live with them. Five years since that terrible accident left her orphaned. Vivienne still remembered the way she had clung to her at the funeral, her tiny fingers gripping Vivienne’s sleeve with quiet desperation.
In some ways, caring for Briar felt like second nature, like slipping into a role she had been preparing for without realizing. It reminded her of how Johanna had looked after her when her parents went off on their endless expeditions. But this wasn’t the same. Thirteen years separated them, making them not quite sisters and not just cousins, but something in between.
"Saturday," Vivienne said, stretching her neck as tension crept back into the muscles.
"She's been at a chemistry program, right?" Lewis asked, eager to resume conversations about his and Briar’s shared interest in the medicinal properties of plants.
"She's been up in Eboncrest for six weeks at the Institute of Healing Disciplines,” Vivienne answered.
"I'm excited to talk to her about it. No offense, Viv, but talking about the anti-inflammatory properties of Calendula isn't the same with you," Lewis said.
"None taken." Vivienne was more than happy for them to keep the plant-category conversations to themselves.
"Bring her by on Saturday, or at least come grab some food for her," Johanna instructed. "I'm sure the tiny thing will be half-starved after traveling from the northeastern border."
Vivienne nodded. She was ready for Briar to be back, but a sinking feeling settled in her stomach as she thought about her parents coming home. She couldn’t place why.
2
The path gave way to a stretch of shoreline where smooth, dark stones glistened with seawater. The waves rolled in, foaming over the rocks before retreating with a whispering hiss. Vivienne and Lewis reached the edge of the beach, pausing just before the tide’s reach. Without a word, they bent down in near unison, unlacing their boots and peeling away their stockings. The ocean mist curled around their ankles, sending a pleasant shiver up Vivienne’s spine.
“Still Rocky Beach to you?” Lewis asked, shaking out his boots.
Vivienne smirked, wiggling her toes against a particularly smooth stone. “I don’t see a sign telling me otherwise.”
“Not very original, you know.”
“We were seven,” she shot back. “Would you rather we’d called it ‘The Place Where We Always Eat Too Many Pastries’?”
Lewis laughed, tossing his boots onto a dry patch of sand. “I’d argue that’s a more fitting name.”
Vivienne plopped down on a sun-warmed rock, pulling a pastry from the small satchel slung over her shoulder. “Too late now. It’s Rocky Beach forever.” She took a bite, the flaky crust melting on her tongue, the salty sea air only enhancing the sweetness.
Lewis flopped beside her, stretching his legs toward the tide. "How many more maps are left before everything is organized?"
Vivienne sorted through the catalog of her memory, biting the inside of her cheek. "Last time I checked we only had another two hundred or so left."
An incredulous expression spread across his face. "Do you think that's a small number?
Vivienne chuckled. "I started with around three thousand."
"Well, now you're being ridiculous," Lewis teased, brushing crumbs off his hands. “You ever regret it?” His tone maintained his usual sarcasm, but something deeper lingered beneath the words.
Vivienne hesitated, rolling a pebble between her fingers. The weight of the question pressed against her ribs. At fifteen, standing in the grand hall of the Royal Academy of Fendwyr, she had inked her name besideAntiquarianism, as expected. The Banners had been antiquaries for generations, their legacy woven into the very fabric of the academy and the library. She was simply the next stitch in the pattern.
Vivienne remembered gripping the quill too tightly, the scratch of ink against parchment feeling more like a door creaking shut than one swinging open. For weeks, she had wrestled with the decision, turning over other possibilities in her mind. Something else.Anythingelse. But in the end, she had stepped neatly into the space carved out for her, just as everyone assumed she would.
