“Ah, Clara, I’m sorry. I cannot,” he said sadly.
“Don’t be sorry, it was a long shot anyhow. Do you know of anyone who might be a good fit?”
His mouth turned into a tight line, and his brows knitted together.
“Unfortunately, I don’t know anyone who is up to that task.”
“Thanks anyway,” I said, setting several gold coins on his shoppe counter and leaving before he could protest that I overpaid him. Hesper followed me right out the door without a word.
I visited every person with known garden magic in Moss after that, carefully avoiding putting a timeline on the position. Eldrene had given me a month, but it very well could end with whoever took over the position needing to stay in that position. Theo, with his gaggle of pigs, said no before I could even utter three words. Gwyn, with her cows and daffodils, declined due to time constraints with her milking schedule. And Farmer Yelena, tempted at first, quickly shuther door after I told her that she would need to feed the town, not just herself and her three husbands.
Hesper remained right behind me the entire way, never uttering a word. I tried not to acknowledge her existence, but an extremely tall, lurking shadow became difficult to ignore. Besides, my betrayer of a brain kept repeatingI like the smellover and over again.
After the twelfth door closed for the day, defeat washed over me. I knew filling this position was going to be difficult, but I didn’t realize how many people considered the job impossible and tedious. I loved it so much that I just assumed at least two folks would be fighting to be chosen. They would get a cottage and garden every day. What more could you want?
At this point, I had no one left to ask. The only folk left were the shoppe owners, and they couldn’t close their businesses. I’d have to send word to other Town Gardeners—but with my history of never traveling to their towns to garden, I feared it would end poorly. What would happen if I couldn’t fill it before I left?
That would have to be a problem for later, though, because I suddenly couldn’t hear my thoughts over my own stomach growling.
“Hungry, princess?” Hesper asked as we walked through town.
“No,” I replied curtly.
Another grumble emanated from my belly, this one edging on monstrous.
“Well, I’m hungry,” Hesper said.
“Sounds like a you problem,” I replied haughtily. Why?Why am I like this? Why can’t I just say,Yes, after meeting failure after failure this morning, I am famished. I could use a massive bowl of stew to soften the blow of sadness. Why couldn’t I just let someone acknowledge I had a need and then fix said need? Instead, I got thorny. The irony was, if Hesper had never said anything, and it was my idea to get food, I wouldn’t have been acting like a child. But she’d said it, she saw I had a weakness, and now I was annoying myself to no end.
Next came a stomach growl so long and so surly, there actually had to be a monster inside of me. Hesper didn’t flinch, didn’t poke fun, acted like she hadn’t even heard the deafening roar.
Instead she said, “I heard there was a dwarf with kitchen magic in town.”
“Remi’s Café: Tea, Books, Scones, Pies, Cakes, Coffee, andMore,” Hesper read the sign aloud.
“Congratulations. You can read,” I said, pushing past her and into the shoppe.
“Did he mean to put the whole menu on the sign?” Hesper held the door open for me. I scowled at her; she grinned back and winked. “And are you always this angry when you’re hungry?”
“That’s not the whole menu. He also has fish stew. And yes, yes I am.”
“Noted.”
On the walk here, the utter defeat of the day had settled deep into my bones. Every step I took into town reminded methat my time was limited. How many afternoons had I strolled through Moss and taken for granted the beauty around me? The comforting feeling of home, of familiarity. Now, it all was tainted with a goodbye I couldn’t yet face and an impossible task looming overhead. I would inevitably fail Dwindle, and I’d already failed Moss today—there was no Town Gardener for them in sight.
Needless to say, I had soured into a wretched mood.
We sat at my favorite table, the one I usually occupied by myself. It was nestled in the corner, away from the fray, with a giant circular window that looked out onto the street. I could watch people as I idly sipped my latte. The best part was the wall of books nearby. All of which werespicierromance novels, tucked away from the typical shoppe-goer. I’d read them all.
The only other people I ever let sit here were Rosie and Sylvie. And Sylvie rarely left her Bee Cottage for more than an hour at most. But now, here I sat with Hesper Altanfall, who grinned widely from ear to ear as if having the best day of her life.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked, eyeing her.
“This is such a quaint shoppe. There’s music, it smells good, and books are everywhere. I see why you like this place.” She turned over her shoulder, admiring everything Remi’s had to offer.
Remi brought over food without us even ordering. He was a grumpy dwarf who didn’t have time for people to figure out what they wanted to eat. He brought people what he thought theyshouldeat. His kitchen magic helped, of course,as it gave him the keen ability to sense what people craved, how they wanted it prepared, and even thefeelingthe food should give them. Sometimes, I ate a Remi sandwich and felt hopeful for the day. Other times, I’d sip on a Remi tea, and my heart settled into a warm cocoon in my chest. On rare occasions, there would be chocolate desserts that left me quite… hungry for other delicacies in life.
Today was a feast: fish stew with charred asparagus (asparagus I grew), squash pies (squash I grew), rosemary-and-lemon tea cakes (both the herb and citrus I grew), and nestleberry lattes for both Hesper and me. Remi knew nestleberry was my favorite berry and always had it in some form on the menu. It tasted like the ripest blackberries, blueberries, and a hint of sweet wine all in one fruit. It was the only crop I couldn’t grow, mostly because Gristle never had those seeds. So Remi imported them just for me, which was a pretty coin.
