I wasn’t the only one—all of Moonvale was watching. Everyone had an audience.
The rush was ruining the entire craft. I couldn’t remember a recipe for the life of me, but I was certain that the majority of these were wrong. No better than mud and dish water.
Food not even worthy of the mouths of critters.
Except for my goddess. She strung ingredients together like gems on a chain, elegantly and artfully.
My foot tapped against cobblestone.
I waited for my opportunity.
I drifted from cottage to cottage, occasionally picking up an ingredient or two. I stroked a tomato with my thumb. The tip of my finger was a strange, dark color. Curious, I swiped it across my trousers, but the stain remained.
I couldn’t remember touching anything dark.
The worry rolled off my shoulders. The pigment would soon fade, as it had done before. The color seemed to come and go.
I spotted a mothman in the grocery store, assembling what looked to be a fresh, colorful salad with some sort of grilled meat on top. There were no spectators in the grocery store. No witnesses.
Perfect.
That would do just fine.
“Hello, good sir,” I said as I strolled in. “I require your assistance.”
CHAPTER 16
Ginger
The mixture came together beautifully.
Tomato, beef, rice, in a salty, savory broth with a hint of spice—it was exactly what I hoped for.
I scrubbed a loose curl away from my face with the back of my hand, careful to keep any mess from reaching my blouse.
The stew was perfect. One of the best I’d ever made, I was sure of it.
There was no way I wouldn’t win this competition.
And the best part—I had time to spare.
I sealed the lid onto the pot, trapping any wayward steam and sealing in the flavors.
“Tandor!” I shouted. “Can you bring me a cider? I deserve it!”
“One second, boss,” his voice called out. “I’ve got lavender blueberry. Will that work?”
One of the best flavors. Of course it would work. “That’ll do!”
I struggled to contain my excitement as I waited for theorc to pour me a goblet. I usually wouldn’t consider myself the most competitive folk. But something about the Miss and Mister Moonvale Ball brought out my inner competitive beast.
And I wasnotin the mood to lose.
“Save any for me?” Tandor asked hopefully as he thrust a goblet into my sweaty palms.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s for the competition.”
“What if I’m a judge?” He grinned, his small lower tusks on full display.
