Needled ever-trees from the mountains were propped in the corners, decorated with trinkets on strings. A fire roared in the hearth, crackling and popping and casting the room in a comfortable, warm glow. Twinkling, enchanted string lights brought a magical glow to the place, warming it even further.
Stacks of presents sat against the far wall, waiting for meals to be finished.
The murmur of voices blended into a soothing symphony, making the place feel lively and joyful.
Merry Day was my favorite day of the entire year.
While many folk chose to celebrate the holiday at home with their loved ones, some of us preferred even more company, so Ginny always welcomed the town into the pub with open arms.
She had prepared a giant vat of stew, chicken and rosemary this time, and the scents of herbs and baked bread mingled happily with the smoke from the fire.
I adjusted my hair, tugging on the bow to make sure it was sitting just right.
We were all wearing our finest outfits. My corset and skirt matched my red shawl perfectly, only accentuated by my redlace-up boots. Fiella’s trousers were clean and pressed, and her blue hair was smoothed into a lovely braid that kept the wild strands out of her face. Redd had trimmed his beard down, and his white tunic was bright and wrinkle free. And Tandor looked impossibly handsome in a red sweater that made his green skin look warm and flushed.
We all cleaned up pretty nice, if I could say so myself.
“Another cider for the table?” Tandor asked, standing up and gathering our goblets.
“Yes, please!” I said.
“Thanks!” Fiella responded.
Redd nodded with a smile.
The cranberry cider Tandor had come up with was incredible. It was one of his best yet. Tart, sweet, with just the right amount of cinnamon bite, it was a masterpiece.
It didn’t beat the pumpkin, but it was a close second.
“I’ll get them!” Ginger called from behind the bar. “Don’t worry about it, Tandor!”
Tandor ignored her, bringing the goblets with him. “You’ve been working all morning, Ginny. Sit. Take a break. I’ve got this one.”
“Oh no, I don’t mind,” the faun protested, but Tandor would not be deterred. He simply flicked his head in the direction of our table, where an empty chair was waiting for her.
“Sit,” he ordered.
This time, she listened. “Fine. But only for a minute.” She scurried over the table, goblet and bowl in hand. She sat down heavily, allowing her weight to drop into the chair without her usual grace.
I leaned over, patting her on the shoulder. “You work too hard.”
She smiled around a mouthful of stew. She swallowed, before she said, “Says you.”
I sat back in my chair, glancing around the room. We weren’t the only patrons in the pub. Velline and Old Man Wilbur were at a table in the corner with a few other folk. A family of shifters occupied another table. Linc sat at the bar with Lunette, who was listening to his animated story with an amused smile on her face. The pub was bustling. “I don’t work on holidays,” I argued. “I’m too lazy for that.”
She grinned, shrugging. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of people.”
“Fire!” someone shouted from the other side of the room. “It’s the dragon!’
My eyes darted in that direction, but a tiny voice near my ear said, “I’m on it, Godsblood.”
It was Dropp, the water sprite. The sprites had taken to following me around town, becoming more familiar with Moonvale. It seemed that they were no longer confined to my shop, if they ever were in the first place. They spent most of their time in my apothecary, but they were beginning to wander.
I was so proud of them. My little menaces.
“Thanks, you’re the best!” I called out.
Ember had caught a napkin on fire, and Dropp easily extinguished the flame with a small stream of water.
