Aevrin chuckled.
“What’s first, Miss Cassia?”
“Since I have no idea what’s here, we might work our way around.” They were standing in front of a series of open crates holding produce that didn’t spoil easy, hardy vegetables and roots. Casting her eyes around the lantern-lit store, she could see rows and rows of root-bound preservation chests, shelves full of jars and boxes, and even what looked like a section of farming equipment. Apparently food wasn’t the only thing the grocer sold. “Though that might take a while.”
“We’ve got time. You really impressed by this place?”
“In my experience it’s not the size of the store but the quality, especially of the produce.” Given how much of the perishable food appeared to be in preservation chests, she didn’t trust any of it to be fresh. The produce might have been sitting in stasis for a year, for all she knew. A few months didn’t change itmuch, but it did make a difference, especially to someone like her.
She picked up a hearty dotted squash from a pile sitting in the open air and turned it over in her hands. It was cylindrical, its skin smooth but tough, flecked yellow and purple.
“Noted. So you don't think it's all about size,” Aevrin said behind her. Cassia froze, hands still gripping the thick squash, and wondered if he’d meant his words to come out sounding that dirty. Probably not. He was a gentleman. She was theone with the bawdy thoughts.
He probably didn’t even realize what he’d said. With how messy her life had always been, she just wasn’t the type of quality girl someone like him was bound to end up with. She was proud of how far she’d come, but they were just from different types of families, Aevrin and her. For a man like him, a girl like Cassia Clarek was, at best, a regrettable mistake made on the way.
“Well, no, I don't,” Cassia said. She cleared her throat. “I’d much rather have just a few options but have them be very fresh and flavorful.”
Aevrin nodded seriously, no hint of laughter in his eyes. She started to walk along the baskets of squashes, roots, and other hardy vegetables again, now and then pausing to pick something up or add it to the wagon. Aevrin kept pace with her, and didn’t complain about the weight she was adding.
“What’s your favorite vegetable?” Cassia asked as she finally reached the first preservation chest and swung its lid open. She wanted to make sure he enjoyed the food she picked. Inside were bundles of dark, hearty greens, their large leaves crinkled and nearly black. She carefully sorted through and added two of the bundles to the wagon.
“I don’t think vegetables are the kind of thing people have favorites of, Miss Cassia,” Aevrin informed her flatly.
“Sure they do. They ought to.” She faced him, hand on her hip. She couldn’t tell if he was just joking or serious. He shrugged, unimpressed.
“Alright. Then jennuts.”
“Not tubers. That’s barely a vegetable.”
“It is too a vegetable,” Aevrin told her smugly.
“I mean,sure,” she allowed. “Technically. But I’m talkinggreen, Aevrin.”
The poor man looked genuinely confused.
“Why would I have a favorite of that?”
“First of all, you can have a favorite of literally anything. Second of all, vegetables are good for you. Third of all… they taste good. When you cook them right. And when they didn’t spend the last ten years in a jar or a chest.”
Thinking back to the first meals she’d had in the Riveker house, and the giant stash of preserved vegetables she’d found in one of the cabinets, maybe she couldn’t blame Aevrin for his palate.
“Well, they’ve tasted a lot better this week, I’ll give you that,” he admitted, scratching his head. “I dunno. I guess I’ve liked all the ones you’ve made. Those peas were pretty good.”
“Peas it is. I never knew you didn’t like vegetables.”
“I mean, I eat ‘em,” he said reluctantly as he followed her towards a set of chests labeled with different varieties of legumes. “But I always thought it was just something you do for your health, to avoid needing a nutrient plant.”
“Now that’s just sad.”
“I’m a griffon and jennut man,” he informed her gravely. “And, well, if you can’t see the good of that, Miss Cassia, I do feel sorry for you.”
The peas smelled alright, like vegetables instead of the barely-noticeable brine of spellwork that came from sitting too long. She shoveled shelling peas into one of the small cloth bags Aevrin had brought, eyebrow raised. He took it from her and placed it carefully into their cart.
“Ifyoucan’t understand having favorites of everything, Master Riveker,Ifeel sorry foryou. You should get in the habit of looking for the good. There’s plenty of it all around you.”
“Favorites of everything,” he echoed as they wandered away from the produce chests and past a row of shelves holding twisted grallo roots the size of her forearm, sweeteners, andbaskets of odd-looking green lumps with shaved-down nubs all over them.
“Yes.” She picked up one of the green things, feeling its leathery skin with a frown, and sniffed.Lotho jelly.So this is what it looked like before being cut up?
