I duck my head, focusing very intently on my tea.
“So,” Aric says, pulling me from my thoughts. “One bed. Not quite how I imagined this trip starting.” He lets out one of his rumbly laughs.
My cheeks flame. “Me either.”
“But for what it’s worth,” he adds, his voice softer now, “I’m really glad you asked me to come with you.”
I glance up, finding his hazel eyes already on me. “You are?”
“Yeah.” He reaches across the table, his large hand taking one of mine from where it was gripping my tea. “I’m glad to be here with you. Even if the sleeping arrangements are a little funny.”
My heart skips, then picks up a quicker pace. “I like being here with you too.”
He grins, showing off that easy confidence that I’ve always admired about him. “Good. Then let’s eat up, explore this village, and go meet Aurora.”
We finish breakfast, and afterward, I excuse myself tofreshen up in the small washroom attached to our room. My hair is a horrible mess, and I run a comb through it before twisting it back into a short braid. When I emerge, Aric has changed into a clean tunic and is pulling his hair back up onto the top of his head.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, clasping my cloak around my shoulders. “Ready.”
We head downstairs, then step out into the crisp autumn morning. As we pause on the inn’s front porch, Aric takes my hand, threading his warm fingers through mine.
And despite the one-room, one-bed situation waiting for us tonight, and despite all my nervousness and overthinking, I find myself smiling.
This trip might be fun after all.
Chapter 25
Aric
FAUNWOOD IS JUST AS I remember, though everything seems smaller now that I’m not a kid anymore. The cobblestone streets wind between homes and shops, and everywhere I look, there’re signs of autumn—pumpkins stacked on doorsteps, dried corn overflowing from wagons, window boxes bursting with late-blooming flowers.
I hold Poppy’s small hand as we walk, and she keeps pausing to look at simple things, like the fluffy orange cat sunning itself on a low stone wall and the group of children kicking a ball to one another and then laughing when a shopkeeper comes to wave them away.
We pass a bakery—the source of the bread we had for breakfast, according to the sign in the window—and the smell makes my mouth water even though I’m still full. Next door is a bookshop with a window display that makes Poppy stop in her tracks.
“Oh,” she whispers, pressing closer to the glass. “Look at that one.The Secret Language of Dreams: A Comprehensive Guide to Oneiromancy.” Her eyes are wide behind her glasses.
“Want to go in?” I ask.
She hesitates, glancing up at me. “I don’t know. I already have so many books...”
“You can never have too many books, Brains,” I assure her. “Come on.”
Before she can tell me no, I pull the door open and usher her inside.
The bookshop is cramped but cozy, with shelves crammed floor to ceiling with books and the smell of old paper and leather hanging in the air. Poppy disappears into the stacks almost immediately, seeming to forget me altogether as she discovers books. Though she doesn’t see me, it makes me grin. She’s such a bookworm.
I follow at a slower pace, running my fingers along the spines. I’m not really one to read for fun, but I like being here with her, watching her in her element. And I’m perfectly happy to follow her around, trailing her from stack to stack, seeing the joy on her face as she pulls books delicately from the shelves, like they might fall apart if she moves too fast.
She finishes her browsing thirty minutes later and emerges from the stacks with three books clutched to her chest, looking slightly guilty.
“I don’t know which one to get,” she says before I can speak. “They all sound so good.”
I take the books from her, already headingtoward the front of the shop to buy them with the little bit of money I have in my coin pouch. “Then let’s get them all.”
Poppy tries valiantly to purchase the books herself, but I’m insistent, and she finally lets me pay the shopkeeper. The man ties the books into a bundle with a coarse brown string, then hands them to me, and I pass them to Poppy.
