Page 33 of Must Love Scones and Secrets
I took her hand and led her to the fire, then got a blanket from the bed and set it on her shoulders.
“Thank you, Bjorn,” she said softly. “Always so mannerly.”
“My mother would be glad to hear you say so,” I replied with a laugh, then went to the small kitchen area and prepared a kettle of tea, which I hung over the fire.
“Ah, the infamous mother,” Rosalyn teased, her eyes wafting over the undone laces of my tunic and chest before she caught herself and directed her focus elsewhere. “Is she the one who taught you such impeccable manners?”
“Propriety is one of her chief concerns.” I paused, feeling that gnawing ache in my stomach, the half-truth paining me. “What about your mother? Is she a baker, too?”
“Oh, not at all. She’s a Butterfly Maiden.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know…”
“Butterfly Maidens are ambassadors of our pixie culture. They perform the silk dances, play the whisperharp, and perform pixie petal potion ceremonies. She’s a skilled singer, dancer, musician, and more… She was one of the most famous Butterfly Maidens in all of pixie lands. But she doesn’t perform anymore. Now, she teaches young pixie girls the art.”
“You didn’t follow in her footsteps.”
“Absolutely not. I was always in the kitchen.”
“How did she take that news?”
Rosalyn laughed. “Your question tells me you’ve already guessed. She wanted me to be a Butterfly Maiden like her. ‘Rosalyn, you are too poised to sweat over an oven. Rosalyn, you sing too well to waste time making cookies. Rosalyn, you dance too elegantly to be wiping off tables.’” Rosalyn gave a heavy sigh. “Eventually, she saw what my magic can do, so she let me pursue my own adventures. However, I think she always felt a bit disappointed. She greets visitors to our lands and teaches them about our pixie ways, and I… I bake scones in a distant city. We still talk, but I still sense some resentment.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, taking her hand. And I truly was. I knew what it was like to disappoint a parent. Even though my father was only marginally interested in what his children were doing—he was content to let my mother do the parenting while he was busy attending to the kingdom—my mother was another matter entirely. Only Alvar ever managed to stay in her good graces.
Rosalyn sighed, then shrugged. “We don’t live for our parents. We live for ourselves.” She gave me a warm smile, and I could sense she knew her truth was not far from mine. But then, something in the clothing trunk caught her eye, and she hopped up to investigate. “Ooh, what’s this?” She pulled out a small wooden box with intricate carvings. “Storm Stones! Have you ever played?”
“I don’t think so.”
“It’s a game. Perfect for rainy nights like this,” she said, bringing the box back to the fireside.
She opened the box to reveal a collection of smooth, polished stones in various colors.
“The rules are simple,” she explained, setting up the game board. “Each stone has different powers and movements. The goal is to capture your opponent’s moonstone.” She pointed to a stone tinged with white, blue, and a hint of gold. “But the fun part is that the stones have tiny enchantments. When you move them, they do…things.”
“What kind of things?” I asked, intrigued.
“You’ll see,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I’ll help you as we go. Are you up for a game?”
I nodded, settling across from her, Rosalyn arranging the board between us.
“I’ll go easy on you since it’s your first time,” she teased.
My competitive spirit flared. “Don’t you dare.”
Rosalyn laughed. “Ooh, the Master of Horse has pride. I like it.”
I chuckled.
She made the first move, sliding a blue stone forward. Immediately, a tiny wisp of mist rose from the stone, swirling in the air over the board, hiding the other pieces.
“Your turn,” she said.
“But I can’t see the stones.”
“Exactly,” she said with a laugh. “That’s the fun. Either your stone’s enchantment will break mine or mine will overpower yours. We shall see.”
Moving blindly, I shifted a stone. The air above the board cleared a moment to reveal a green stone. A small sprout appeared from the stone, grew into a tiny flower, then wilted away.
