The Enchanted Greenhouse(119)

“I’ve been working on another specialty for that.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll have to wait for dessert. I’ve been experimenting with that too.”

She grinned. “That sounds interesting.”

When they finished and cleaned from dinner, he brought out a plate from the icebox. It was underneath a napkin embroidered with pink and purple flowers—a gift from his father who had brought it from Alyssium. Birch had learned to embroider while he was recovering from the illness that had sent him there, a weakness in his heart that only specialist doctors were able to cure. The flowers were lopsided, but it was still pretty.

Yarrow set it in the center of the table and then, with a flourish, he lifted the napkin.

“You do like drama—” she began, and then stopped and stared.

They were chocolate-covered orange slices, each slice perfect and plump as a jewel, with smooth-as-silk chocolate encasing half of them. She felt a lump in her throat. She hadn’t known he’d been listening when she talked about oranges weeks ago. He’d barely liked her then. In fact, she was certain he hadn’t.

All of a sudden, it felt like her family was here with her, even though they hadn’t yet written back to the letter she’d sent—it had been picked up by a passing sailor weeks ago, but no boat had returned with a response. Still, here was a bit of home.

Terlu blinked quickly.

“You don’t like them?” he said, concerned. “I know you said you remembered candied oranges from your Winter Feast, but then I thought with your story about the orange tree…”

“It’s perfect,” she said. “You’re perfect.”

Yarrow snorted.

Standing, she crossed to him. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. She drank in the warmth of him as her hands moved around his neck to tangle in his hair. He whispered her name as he moved to kiss her neck and her ear.

Much later, they ate the chocolate oranges.

And they were indeed perfect.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Snow fell lightly on the sea.

It was five days after the chocolate oranges, and Terlu was in the middle of sorting through Laiken’s journals in the sorcerer’s tower when she spotted the sea serpent out the window of the workroom. Grinning, she pulled on her coat and hurried down to the dock.

If the sea serpent was back, Marin and Ree wouldn’t be far behind.

She waved when they came into view and then watched as Marin steered the ship toward the dock. Ree the myrtle was scurrying up and down the rigging as if he were born to it.

“Welcome back to Belde!” Terlu shouted as Marin tossed a line around one of the dock pilings, then hopped off the boat to secure the knot.

With a wide smile, Marin waved back as Terlu trotted down the dock to greet her.

“Any letters?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes, one,” Marin said, as she pulled a letter out of the bag at her side, “though it wounds me that you aren’t happy just to see me.”

“And me!” Ree shouted.

“Of course I am. It’s great to see you both,” Terlu said, but her eyes were fixed on the letter. It was tied with a multicolored ribbon—red, yellow, and orange, matching the paint on her family’s home. She took it, lifted it to her nose, and inhaled. She could smell it on the paper, the faint odor of citrus and salt water. Home. She wanted to tear it open and read it right now. No, she’d wait until she had a moment alone. She’d waited this long; she could wait a little while longer. “Thank you.” She clutched it to her chest.

“Not a problem. I was coming here anyway.”

“You were?”

“Told you I’d be back in time for Winter Feast, remember?” Marin said. “I keep my promises. Especially when they’re paid for with rubies. I’ve got your gardener’s usual supplies, as well as a few special additions.” She stepped aside as the ship began to disgorge people: a couple with a child, all of whom had soft tawny fur and tiny antlers poking out of their hair, as well as an elderly woman with silvery scales instead of skin. “Refugees from Alyssium. You’ve got room here, right?”

“Yes, of course.” The words were out of her mouth before she even thought about them, but how could she say no? Especially since they were looking at her with frightened, tired, hopeful eyes. And there were only four of them. Surely, they could fit four more on Belde, couldn’t they, especially when one was a child? She greeted the new arrivals and directed them up the road toward where Birch, Rowan, and the others were, and she hoped they didn’t mind that she’d just said yes to four more residents. “Third cottage on the right,” Terlu said. “You’ll find some people who should be able to help you find a place to stay.”

The more, the merrier, right?

Unless they were going to cause problems with all the magic use. It wasn’t just her anymore. It was all the talking plants, as well as several of Yarrow’s cousins and his aunt Rin, who’d helped fix the cracks in the glass.

As the new arrivals left the dock, Terlu lowered her voice so they wouldn’t hear. “Only thing is whether they’ll be comfortable living near an enchanted greenhouse. There’s a lot of spellwork here…” She trailed off, careful not to say who was casting it.