Sweat pricked the back of my neck.“So soon?”I asked.“Can’t we go later?”
Alexander shrugged.“Grandfather usually handles the morning work, but since he’s aboveground now, I take over.The hay needs to be cut and the goat needs to be milked.”
“Since when do you have a goat?”I asked.Keeping livestock was not common in Witch Village.Farmers opted to grow produce rather than raise animals, since they required less space and less care.
“Since two months ago,” Alexander said.“Let’s go!”
But Edmund, who evidently was a late sleeper from the snoring that came from his room when we approached, was not quite up for the task.None of us thought it proper to go inside and wake him, so we decided to let him sleep.I secretly celebrated this.
“Stay with him,” I told Maddox as Alexander and I headed out the door.
Maddox sighed.“Do I have to?”
“You’re his guard, so yes,” I said.“Come join us outside when he’s ready.”
Maddox made a face, but turned back into the house.
There were a handful of witches outside already.I ducked my head and made it a point to hide behind Alexander as he waved at a few fellow field witches setting up stands and harvesting the crops in their designated plots.As he went to milk the goat, which he apparently kept in a pen behind his house, I scanned the fields once more.
The people speckled in the distance were dressed in browns and greens and beiges.Ma, who preferred to dress in offensively bright colors for Harvest time, was nowhere to be seen.
Feeling a bit more at ease, I helped Alexander haul the buckets of milk inside and we headed to the fields.I hoped his tall stature would conceal me from prying eyes.
We stopped before his designated plot.Green vines curled around gourds of all shapes and sizes.Some of the stems were dry and brown, a sure sign they were ready for picking.Alexander wiped his hands on his trousers and knelt.I followed suit.
“These look promising,” he said, taking out a large pair of shears from his belt.He tossed me a small knife in a leather sheath and gestured to the gourds at the opposite corner of his plot.“You take those.”
I had only actively harvested from the fields a handful of times in my life—back when Grandma was alive and was good friends with Alexander’s grandfather.Ma was less friendly toward the family, for reasons wholly unknown to me.It was likely because she loathed doing anything Grandma did.
“I’ve told you about me,” I said, sawing at a stem.“But what about you?How has the village been?Any juicy gossip?”
Alexander chuckled.“Why is it always gossip with you?”
I tossed my braid behind my back.“It’s fun.Besides, I’ve been gone for nine months.Somethinginteresting must’ve happened.Any news about Lana Barclay returning from her travels?”
“Not at all.I think she and her niece are still in Aquatia.”
Disappointing.“Any news from my family?”I tried again.
He shook his head.“Giselle, it’syourfamily.You can just go ask them.”
I frowned.“It’s not that simple.”I already knew Alexander wouldn’t understand—his family was as tight knit as a novice knitter’s stitches.“Whatever then.How’s Christabella?Have you seen her lately?”
Alexander cleared his throat.“Oh.Yeah.She came to visit Gio a few times.She’s teaching him the Harvest dance.”
It was very like Christabella to do so.She was good with children, and she loved the Harvest dance.Perhaps the next time she came by, I’d surprise her with my presence.
“Ask her to visit soon,” I said.“At least a few times before two weeks are up.I’d like to see her.”
“Of course,” Alexander said slowly, brushing the dirt off of a yellow gourd.He sounded hesitant.“So, about Christabella...”
“What about her?”
“We’re...sort of engaged.”
I turned around, knife still in hand.“Excuse me?”
“Alright weareengaged.”
