Page 49 of Of Potions and Honey
Maybe they had both put in a little more effort today.
“Hey.” Mira adjusted her grip on the basket, suddenly glad that she was carrying it. Would a hug be too forward? With her picnic basket as a shield, she didn’t have to test that. “You look nice today.” She gestured at the headband. “That colour brings out your eyes.”
There was the tiniest delay before Yoni replied. “Thank you.” Another pause. “You’re wearing a dress into the woods?”
A little self-conscious, Mira tugged on her skirt. “Well, it’s not a difficult trail, and it’s getting warmer. And besides, I wanted to dress up a little.”
“For me?”
The incredulous tone made Mira laugh. “Of course for you. Mostly. I also like the dress, and I haven’t had a chance to wear it since I got here.” She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you dressed like that today just because you suddenly,out of the blue, felt like it. There isn’t even any cat hair on your trousers.”
Yoni pointedly looked away and refused to acknowledge the comment. “We should get going, so we get to the spring in time for lunch.”
Despite that, they kept a leisurely pace, one that allowed for a pleasant, slow conversation. Contrary to what Mira had feared, there was no trace of the awkwardness of the conversation in the greenhouse. It was rather like being back at the inn, talking about whatever came to mind. Gardening. The books they were reading. A pie recipe Yoni had been trying out, and failing at rather miserably. Baking, according to her, was a mystery devised to torment humans.
“Matteo seems to manage just fine,” Mira pointed out, “and so does Clara.”
“Yes,” Yoni replied primly, “they have glimpsed some sort of cosmic truth, I’m sure.”
“It’s a pie.”
Yoni rolled her eyes. “It iswitchcraft.”
Mira chuckled. “One of my aunts always says that you can be a gifted cook or a gifted baker, but most people aren’t both. Maybe she’s right about that.”
“Now, you did mention Matteo…”
Mira sighed dramatically. “Some people do get all the talents, and it just isn’t fair.”
“Like writing stories and writing poetry?”
Now it was Mira who huffed and pursed her lips. “I thought I demonstrated that I do not, in fact, have both of those talents.”
“Some might disagree,” Yoni replied lightly. “Perhaps you should try again, just to be sure. A poem about cats maybe, I’m sure it would be very popular next Talent Night.”
“I amnotdoing that again!”
Yoni clicked her tongue. “And disappoint poor Cassia?”
“I only promised the one!”
“Doessheknow that?”
“Don’t you dare bring that up with her!” Mira tried to suppress a grin. “I’ll let her know you said you’d perform it with me. A duet, if you will.”
In an instant, Yoni looked properly frightened. “You cannot do that to me! Fine, not a word to Cassia, you devious witch.”
Mira nudged her with her shoulder. “As you wish, my lady.”
By the time Mira began to feel a little peckish, they were getting close to the spring. That was about the time she heard the voices up ahead. A few moments later, two people came around a bend in the path ahead – a woman with a pinched expression, and a man with red hair.
They stopped talking the moment they saw Mira and Yoni. If Mira hadn’t known better, she would’ve said they looked spooked. The pairs passed each other on the trail with curt nods, and the unmistakeable clinking of glass from the man’s battered messenger bag. He grabbed it a little tighter as he shimmied past Mira with a mumbled ‘scuse me’ and hurried along the path, followed by the woman who threw an odd glance over her shoulder before they disappeared down the path.
Yoni stared after them with something approaching disdain. “What is the matter with tourists these days?”
“Must be in a hurry to get home,” Mira replied. What shedidn’tsay was that she wasn’t at all sure that these people were tourists anymore. Why they were here instead, she had no idea, but it didn’t seem like they were sightseeing; not multiple times on several different weekends at least. Though she didn’t want tospoil her time with Yoni with speculation. She plastered a smile on her face.
“That means we have the spring to ourselves though.”
