Page 17 of Morel Dilemma

“What did you say brought you?” Rylana, feeling she’d been gone from work for long enough, wanted to return to her duties.

“I, oh my. That’s that bakery, isn’t it?” Tharla pursed her lips in disapproval as she gazed at the window, though the cupcakes and cookies on display were perfectly chaste.

“The scones are delicious.”

As the goblins continued down the street, their chant shifted from stag party to boob cake. Something told Rylana that they’d started their celebration early, enjoying liberal libations at the tavern in the next block.

“I… can’t imagine.” Shaking her head, Tharla turned back to Rylana. “Uncle Gavlin asked me to have a chat with you.”

Wariness crept into Rylana. “About what? You don’t want me to do your math homework again, I trust.”

“No, but it’s related to that.”

“Something with the family business?” Rylana guessed.

“Tangentially.”

The word made Rylana think of right triangles, but she doubted her cousin had geometry in mind.

Tharla opened her mouth to go on, but two snickering university students walked out of the bakery. They carried individual desserts in circumspect brown bags, but they were pointing and whispering as they glanced at each other’s purchases.

“Maybe we could talk inside.” Tharla pointed at the diner, though her finger shifted toward the coffee shop. “Or over there. I’ve heard the beverages are delicious. And not inappropriate.”

“They are good.” Rylana didn’t think there was a way to make coffee inappropriate, but she didn’t want to prolong the conversation, so she led her cousin to the shop.

Rylana and Tharla stepped inside to scents of freshly brewed coffee, vanilla, and baking cookies. A chalkboard sign by the door listed a couple of daily specials and proclaimed that rare and exotic coffees would soon be added to the menu for a limited time, noting: Be sure to come back for details!

Rylana opted for a table near the window so she could keep an eye on the diner, not that it was in danger now that the troll curse had been lifted and Jildarin wasn’t signed up for culinary competitions overflowing with scheming rivals. Only their landlord was a concern. And perhaps the elves standing alongside the building with dwarves, arguing over wrought-iron materials they were unloading from a wagon. The future exterior stairs? Another group was using a rope, pulley, and magic to lift stacks of slate tiles up to the roof. Construction of the new seating area had begun.

“Hello, Rylana,” Tezilly said cheerfully, coming to wait on the table personally. Her curly black hair, much more flamboyant than Tharla’s, bounced as she hopped to a stop and peered out the window. A few threads of gray marked that hair, and the corners of her eyes were creased, but her curious expression made her look younger than her years. “I’m not expecting the special shipment to arrive until tomorrow,” she admitted, “but I keep checking for a messenger with news of its unloading. We’ve invested quite a bit in it.” She waved to her gray-haired partner, Brella, who was cleaning the roasting equipment that filled one corner of the shop from floor to ceiling. “I hope everything will be well-received. I’m sure it will be. I can’t wait.”

“Yet you still won’t share any details of it? Even with regular clients?”

“No. It’s a secret.” Tezilly winked. “A latte for you, and…” She stretched a hand toward Tharla. “What can I get you? We’ve got a gnomish espresso machine and can make anything.”

“I would certainly hope so,” Tharla said. “I’ll have a double-shot, no-foam, vanilla-bean cappuccino with a dusting of crushed lavender and rose petals.”

Tezilly’s eyebrows twitched only slightly at this order, though Rylana didn’t think any amount of gnomish magic could produce what sounded like atypical ingredients.

“I’ll see if we can handle that,” Tezilly said.

“The coffee shop on Sunset Hill university handles it without trouble or comment,” Tharla said.

“How much do they charge?” Since Sunset Hill perched in the middle of the richest part of Tranquility, at least on this side of the lake, Rylana had a notion.

“For my drink?” Tharla asked. “Two silver.”

“That’s a lot for coffee.” Rylana knew where one could buy entire bags of beans that would make dozens of cups for that.

“I don’t mind paying for quality service and goods.” Tharla threaded her fingers and placed them on the table, leaning forward intently. “As I started to tell you, my husband and I visited the castle the other day, and your father kept mentioning you.”

Another grimace tempted Rylana’s lips. Once the troll curse had been lifted, she’d had Zames relay a message to her father explaining the mess Vormalt had made in the library, but she hadn’t caught him when she’d visited. Since Rylana hadn’t seen Father since they’d had coffee in this very shop, she didn’t know why he would be talking about her to the rest of the family. He was usually straightforward, so if he had a problem, why wouldn’t he have come himself?

“Was it about how I’m now the partner in a very successful diner with a talented and newly award-winning dragon chef?” Rylana asked, catching the raised voices of an argument in the kitchen.

That sounded like Brella saying, “Nobody is going to a florist to fill an order!”

And were the hushing sounds that followed from Tezilly?