Though my tone remained calm, unease stirred beneath my composure as I studied the berries. Something was wrong.
“What are the conditions for these?” he asked.
“They must be gathered at dusk,” I recited.
He waited. When I offered nothing more, his frown deepened. “That’s all?” At my nod, his confusion mirrored my own. “But we’ve already fulfilled those conditions.” As though seeking confirmation, he glanced upward; the sky’s overcast had begun transforming, streaked with brushstrokes of rose and gold dusk that glistened off the rain still drifting softly through the clearing.
Every condition appeared to have been fulfilled, and yet the berries remained untouched by magic. I nibbled my lower lip, considering the riddle. I leaned closer to better examine the fruit. They possessed the unmistakable shimmer of enchanted ingredients, confirming them as truebriarthorn berries.
Experimentally, I reached towards one, but my fingers stopped inches away. An invisible barrier blocked my touch, magic that prevented me from harvesting the berries until I fulfilled the missing condition. Gradually the memory of Grandmother’s voice surfaced.
“These particular berries respond best to harmonious emotions. Magic is always stronger when gathered in companionship.”
At the time I had dismissed the advice as little more than a transparent attempt at matchmaking. Now I wasn’t so certain. Her desperate desire for me to find companionship couldn’t dismiss her experience as a baker of magical ingredients.
“Did you figure something out?” Gabe voice pulled me from my thoughts.
I glanced up questioningly. “Why do you think that?”
His expression softened slightly. “Your expression is usually impassive, making it easy to notice each subtle shift. You appear to have experienced an epiphany.” At my extended silence, his ears reddened. “Am I mistaken?”
For some reason, I found myself reluctant to share Grandmother’s…unsettling suggestion. “Most ingredients also require an emotional component.”
He nodded, encouraging me to continue. I hesitated.
“These berries apparently respond best to harmonious emotions. Magic grows stronger in companionship.”
I almost expected him to scoff, but instead he grew thoughtful. “That seems reasonable. We’re already experiencing a harmonious companionship. Shall we try harvesting them together?”
We both reached towards the berries at the same time. Our hands brushed, but the invisible barrier remained. For several seconds neither of us spoke. Then I heaved a heavy sigh. “What are we missing?”
As though answering the question, a breeze drifted through the hollow. The glowing moss surrounding the clearing brightened faintly, while the nearby flowers slowly unfurled beneath the fading light. For the briefest moment, the berries themselves almost seemed to pulse softly beneath the rain. The clearing seemed to be holding its breath, as though patiently waiting—not for companionship, but for something more.
Then Gabe reached towards one of the thorny vines. “I wonder if?—”
The bramble immediately snagged his sleeve. He frowned and attempted to free himself, only for another thorn to catch his cloak. As he shifted to disentangle that one, a third hooked itself around his wrist. The more he tried to escape, the more thoroughly the briars seemed determined to imprison him.
Within moments he had somehow become entangled amongst the raspberry bushes. He glanced down at his predicament before solemnly meeting my gaze. “I appear to be losing a battle against a raspberry.”
The absurdity of the declaration struck me completely unprepared. A laugh escaped before I could stop it. The sound rang through the clearing, bright and unrestrained, mingling with the soft patter of rain upon the leaves overhead. It felt foreign upon my lips, as though it belonged to another girl entirely—one I vaguely remembered but hadn’t seen in a very long time.
The laughter faded almost as quickly as it had come. I stilled. For a long moment all I could do was stare at him. I pressed my hand to my chest, as if the gesture could contain the strange ache suddenly tightening my ribcage.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed like that—not politely to reassure a customer, or mechanically because social convention dictated it. A real laugh, spontaneously given. Years had passed since I had heard such a sound emerge from my own lips.
The realization settled over me with startling force. How many other pieces of myself had quietly disappeared while I wasn’t paying attention?
Across from me, Gabe’s expression had softened into something I couldn’t quite decipher. Not amusement—though traces of it lingered around his mouth—but something gentler, almost reverent. As though he instinctively understood that whatever had just happened carried far greater significance than a man becoming trapped in a berry bush.
Slowly, his lips curved upwards. “You have a lovely laugh.”
The warmth already lingering beneath my skin deepened until it felt as though my cheeks had absorbed all the color from the surrounding berries.
Before I could think of a response, a shimmer of movement caught my attention. Both of us turned. Thebriarthorn berriesglowed softly amongst the leaves, their crimson surface threaded with veins of silver light. The surrounding vines stirred despite the absence of wind, while the scent of rain and wild raspberries intensified until it seemed to fill every corner of the hollow. Magic pulsed through the clearing, subtle yet unmistakable, like the steady rhythm of a heartbeat.
The berries had ripened.
My thoughts drifted back to Grandmother’s words as I stared at them. These particular berries respond best to harmonious emotions. I had assumed companionship alone would be enough, yet the berries had remained stubbornly dormant until my laughter, until genuine connection had passed between us.
