Page 18 of Violet Thistlewaite Is Not a Villain Anymore
He just wanted it togoaway.
“Dragon’s Rest was dying under Shadowfade,” said Pru quietly. “We were holding on out of sheer stubbornness, but always looking over our shoulders in case today was the day he or one of his minions decided to destroy us for fun or use us in one of his schemes. And now that he’s gone and someone wants to settle here and build something new, why would I choose to see anything but hope in that?”
“But she could beanyone,” he said weakly, ignoring the guilt that itched like a too-tight sweater at his twin’s words. “We don’t know her.”
“That doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” Her voice took on a note of warning. “And before you go any further, I knowyouof all people aren’t going to begrudge someone for wanting to start over in a new place. Isn’t that exactly what you did?”
Nathaniel grunted. “Yes, and where did I end up?” He looked around him, gesturing to the apothecary that had been in their family for four generations. The apothecary he never wanted. “Right back where I started.”
“All the more reason for you to be supportive of someone else tryingnotto end up there.”
Pru’s words stung. Properly chastened, he turned his attention to his varnished countertops, swiping specks of the cherry bark he’d measured earlier this morning into the palm of his hand so he could dispose of it neatly.
Pru ducked her head until Nathaniel had no choice but to look at her. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you or dredge up unpleasant memories.”
“Great, then don’t.”
She sighed at him, the long-suffering sigh of someone who had been exasperated with him since they were in the womb, andhe turned back to his paperwork. The jangle of coin turned his head, and he found Pru smirking expectantly, a fat purse in her hand.
“I played a few ditties before the rock goblins came for me,” she said airily, her eyes sparkling. She was going to change the subject, then. Fine by him. Mentally, he swept the conversation back out of sight, where it belonged. There. Nice and tidy once more. “They’re really cutting my shows short—I’m trying not to take it personally. Anyway, add these coins to the count, why don’t you?”
He scowled. “You might have asked if I needed your help here before you left.”
“Nathaniel,” she said dramatically, batting her eyelashes. “Did you need my help here before I left?”
He’d had barely a dozen customers all afternoon, and she knew it by the meager sum in the box. “That’s not the point. We’re a team, Pru. We need to work together.”
“Work together like you telling me you’d received a letter about Mum and Da’s debts?” Nathaniel froze, and Pru’s eyes narrowed in triumph. “I ran into Travers from the bank.”
“I was going to tell you,” Nathaniel said listlessly.
“Were you?” His sister didn’t look convinced. “Or were you going to ignore it and hope it went away on its own?”
“I was not—”
“You can’t just run away from things that scare you,” she said quietly, and suddenly they weren’t just talking about their finances anymore. “I feel it too, you know. I miss them too.”
His new anxiety potion wouldn’t be ready for at least another week, but Nathaniel craved it like a stiff whiskey. He forced a breath through his lungs and turned back to the ledger, focusing on the numbers. “I know,” he said without looking at her. “And I’m not running. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Are you?” she echoed, managing to make it sound like an entirely different question.
“Yes,” he responded firmly.
“Well then, as you said, we need to work together.” She shook the purse she’d earned playing music and shoved it closer to him, smiling a playful, infectious smile that was just soPrudence. This was the magic of his sister, that indescribablethingshe had that he didn’t. She could turn her mood around, could summon optimism like she was turning on a switch. He was as envious as he was annoyed. “And this is me working together with you.”
“I’d still rather you help me out behind the counter every so often,” he grumbled.
Pru clucked her tongue at him. “Oh, come on, Nat. We both know I’m rubbish at the shopkeeper thing. I’ve got a three-night gig at an inn in Westkeep next week—that’ll help, won’t it?”
It was true, Pru’s music brought in just as much as the apothecary these days—sometimes more.But there are too many ghosts in this place when you’re not here, he wanted to tell her.
Instead, he sighed and took the purse, spilling it out onto the counter so he could begin to assess how much was there.
“You know,” Pru added as he counted, “we could put in a few little tables over there in the corner. We already sell tea, and there’s always a kettle going because you’re an addict, so if we get a few people in here to drink it, I could play for them every day. I’m sure Guy would sell us a few pastries we could offer.”
“We haven’t the space. And besides, you’d knock over the shelves with your dancing.” He pictured the mess of the greenhouse the night he’d met Violet. She hadn’t considered for one second that she’d placed those crates too close to the door. Her face had been so shocked when they tumbled, her golden-brown eyes so wide as she blinked those long lashes at him.
“What about the back garden?”
