She dealt me a smug smile. “That’s what I thought.”
12
LILIA
It took a few moments for her words to sink in. She left me to stew in my thoughts while she bustled around her partner, wiping up the spill. When I’d first arrived in Riverwold, Ragnar had seemed just as agitated with me as I was with him. He’d come across as selfish and stubborn, unwilling to admit he’d tried to outrun me so he could claim the tavern location as his. So why would he have given up his room for me?
As I mulled it over, Nilsa tugged a pie from the packed shelves, draped a cloth over it, and carried it across the kitchen. She held it out to me. “I noticed that Ragnar is awfully fond of apple pie. ‘Course I know you are, too. So do with this what you please, whether that means keeping it for yourself or delivering some good ‘ole home-cooked food to the man who’s staying out in the cold so you don’t have to.”
I took it, my heart thumping in a wild, guilty rhythm. “I didn’t know he’d done that.”
“Because he hasn’t gone around boasting about it.” She folded her arms, the steam from the stove surrounding her like a halo.
“He clearly would have done it for anyone, Nilsa. Like he said, he has some fire demon ancestry, and he doesn’t feel the cold like we do.”
“Then go on and eat the damn pie yourself,” she said, sticking her tongue out at me.
“Hmm. And here I thought you were going to stick to your promises and not play matchmaker,” I said, teasing her if only so I could get some of the focus off me.
“All I did was tell you the truth,” she said with a crisp nod.
“Of course. There was definitelynothingmore to it.” I winked, backing toward the door. “I suppose I’ll just keep this delicious pie all to myself. Thanks, Nilsa!”
Grinning, I spun around and headed back into the taproom while her exuberant shouts peppered my back. But when I passed the stairs that would take me up to my room, I kept going. And when I neared an empty seat, I didn’t take it. I continued onward to the door, where the night would lead me back to the meadow.
It wasn’t that I felt any sort of way about Ragnar, despite Nilsa’s suggestive winks. There was nothing romantic happening here, nor would there ever be. It was just that he’d done something nice for me, and so I’d do something nice right back. Delivering this pie to his cold, lonely wagon made us even. That was all.
With those thoughts repeating in my mind, I quickly reached the grounds, spurred on by the chilly wind at my back. I couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on his face. He’d never expect me to deliver him an entire apple pie, especially when he likely thought I’d already gone to bed.
A peal of thunder crashed through the skies. Another gust of wind shuddered against my back, and the scent of brine thickened the air, rushing in from the distant shore. I picked up my pace. The crowd began to scatter, diving into their wagons and tents to hide from the impending storm, and yet I carried on, my head bent into the wind.
Up ahead, a burst of fire flared in the dark. I slowed and clutched the pie against me, fingers barely keeping the cloth from darting into the sky to join the bulbous clouds. Ragnar stood at the rear of his wagon with flames dancing along his knuckles. A brunette woman was with him—one of the lithe, long-limbed elves who performed on the stage. She was leaning close to him, her head titled back, musical laughter spilling from her lips. Ragnar grinned back, then motioned toward his wagon. She nimbly leapt inside.
He followed her.
My breath stilled, and an unexpected pain tore through my gut. Swallowing, I took a few steps back. This had been a terrible idea. Of course Ragnar would want someone to help keep his bed warm. That was probably why he’d wanted to stay at the festival grounds rather than the inn. Turned out, it truly did have nothing to do with me.
And here I was, standing out in the cold wind like a fool, holding a pie I’d brought to him while my teeth chattered up a storm.
I shouldn’t have come here.
Eyes burning for no good reason, I hurried back the way I came. There were a few shadow demons and dwarves still perched on some old wooden crates outside one of the tents. I handed the pie to them on the way past; I didn’t have the stomach for it anymore.
When I returned to the inn, I went straight upstairs. I didn’t want to face Nilsa’s questions.
* * *
Mist curled into the cold room, a pale blue light splashing onto the narrow walls. Heavy rain drummed the roof and blurred the view of the town beyond the window. I shivered and tugged the heavy quilt tighter around me, contemplating staying in bed for the rest of this miserable day. This storm would keep everyone inside, and there was little I could do to set up my tavern in heavy rain.
And all my ale was gone. I truly had nothing else to do but mope about my current quagmire of a life.
Groaning, I rolled over and hid beneath the quilt. I was supposed to meet Ragnar downstairs soon, but the idea of seeing his face this morning made me feel a bit sick. Would he even show up or would he be too busy entertaining his new friend in the back of his wagon? Why trek all the way to the inn during a downpour when he could stay tucked up with her for hours?
And if he did show…what would I even say to him?
We couldn’t do much to track down the thief while it stormed, which meant losing another day. Meanwhile, I could get started on a brew easily enough, and I didn’t want to waste what little time we had left.
And it meant I wouldn’t have to wait around for a man who’d never appear.
