Episode 78 Candy for Days
Candy for Days
Fates save him.
Why did he agree to leave the hotel?
Not that Cerian could ever refuse his grandmother anything.
She’s too intimidating, when she wishes to be.
He clutches the handle of the pail Chef gave him as they walk down the wooden walkway in front of the shops lining Feressa’s main street.
It’s so bright, almost blinding compared to Darlei. He misses the trees.
And people keep glancing their way.
“You should eat one of those,” Arisanna says as she wraps her arm around his. “You’d feel better.”
“People are staring,” he mumbles.
“It must be my wild hair that my elven husband loves so much.” She gazes up at him, her eyes twinkling, and the hint of a smile tugs at his lips.
“He does,” Cerian forces himself to say.
“I know he does. He’s wonderful.” She rests her head against his shoulder as they walk close together while Grandmera studies the windows of the shops they pass.
“You are wonderful,” Cerian says.
A man eyes him warily, and Cerian’s grip on the pail tightens.
“Focus on me, my elven prince. Most of these people are just curious. And I’m probably shocking them by hanging on you like this.”
He snaps his eyes toward her. “What?”
“You looked like you needed some love.” She shrugs, but there’s something hesitant in her gaze. It’s the same look she had earlier when her mother first arrived.
Arisanna really is wonderful. And brave and strong and absolutely perfect.
“You’re growing warmer, my elven prince,” she whispers. “Should I let go?”
“Never.” He shoves his fire magic down, and it cooperates, for the most part.
Being surrounded by humans has put a damper on his heat. At least that’s one positive thing about their expedition.
“Shall I feed you?” she asks. “Because I will if you don’t eat soon.”
Whistling wind. She would, too.
The clopping of horses’ hooves as a carriage passes leaves him on edge.
Why are human cities so noisy?
Without saying anything else, Arisanna reaches into his bucket and pulls out a plump yellow apple before offering it to him. “Eat.”
Stubborn. That’s what she is. She fits right in with the rest of the women in his family.
With a sigh, he takes it from her and bites into the juicy flesh.
Fresh fall apples. They remind him of home and sunny days and brisk nights.
Cook will order a shipment of them from the growers in the farming lands in western Lostariel soon.
And she’ll dry them and can them and make cider and sauce with them.
His mouth waters at the thought. She usually puts him to work peeling, but he doesn’t mind if it means he gets to breathe in that sweet aroma of roasting apples.
“You love apples,” Arisanna says. “I can read it in your eyes. You look happy but wistful. You have pleasant memories involving apples, don’t you?”
She read all that in his eyes? Perhaps she will learn to read his mind in time.
“Yes. Apples mean fall at home in Darlei, though we’ll probably miss the apple processing this year.”
They were supposed to travel to Celesta next week. That seems unlikely to happen now, though. At least not right away. Perhaps they won’t miss the apples completely.
“I should like to visit this shop,” Grandmera announces, and Cerian looks up at a sign full of jumbled letters.
“Feressa has some of the best candy in Nunia,” Arisanna says. “Father always brings some home after he visits. Or Rominy, lately. Father doesn’t travel as much as he used to. He often sends Rominy in his place now.”
Sadness clouds her eyes. How hard it must be to watch your parents grow old so quickly. She’ll live most of her life without them, won’t she? An ache fills his heart over the thoughts she must be thinking herself.
Even if her mother is exhausting.
“Perhaps some sweets will entice Elowyn to eat when she wakes,” Grandmera says.
Cerian struggles not to smile as he crunches into his apple again.
Grandmera could probably convince Elowyn to do just about anything by offering her sweets.
To have an entire shop devoted to them is a foreign thing, but Elowyn would be delighted.
“Come on.” Arisanna pulls him through the door as he tries not to drop his apple.
Around the edges of the store, jars full of more sweets than Cerian knew existed sit on shelves and tables, and along one wall, the shopkeeper’s counter holds a glass display case full of what must be chocolates, based on Tharios’s description of the human confections.
The idea of biting into something soft and encountering something crunchy makes his stomach roil.
Arisanna. Focus on Arisanna.
Thoughts of his vine slipping beneath that towel distract him until Arisanna looks up at him with knit brows.
Whistling wind. He’s growing warmer, and his heart is racing. That was perhaps unwise.
Chocolates. With nuts inside.
The thought disgusts him, but it tempers his heat.
“I’m not sure if I should ask what you’re thinking or not.” A hint of amusement colors Arisanna’s voice, and he takes another bite of his apple so he won’t have to answer that.
The shopkeeper stands behind the glass case, and while he doesn’t seem thrilled to see them, he keeps his thoughts to himself.
Out of habit borne of years of training, Cerian feels for the plants nearby that might answer his call if necessary, but Feressa seems to be a town full of dead wood, and the walls of the shop are quiet when he reaches out to them.
Apparently, only his desire for Arisanna is strong enough to call growth from dead plants at the moment, and the fear nudging at him hinders his focus.
He has no reason to believe they’re in danger, and Grandmera looks relaxed as she lifts jars to peek at the candies inside. Most of them are filled with colorful sticks and drops in every shade imaginable.
“What would you recommend, my youngling?” Grandmera asks Arisanna in Nunian.
“Well, I’m partial to gumdrops and truffles, but I’m not sure Elowyn would appreciate the same things I do.”
Grandmera chuckles. “Elowyn will try anything once.”
“Oh. Well. Perhaps a sampling of all different types, then?” Arisanna lets go of Cerian’s arm. The loss of her touch leaves him feeling untethered, but he does his best to focus on her.
Not in a towel this time.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but we only take Nunian coin here,” the shopkeeper says.
His tone belies his words about rudeness, and on instinct, Cerian angles himself between the man and Arisanna.
Whistling wind. Hopefully, that didn’t seem aggressive.
Arisanna starts to answer, but Grandmera interrupts her. “We are fully prepared to offer the appropriate remuneration for your delights, my good man. Everything looks exquisitely crafted.”
“Yes, well. I was just making sure before you handled all the candy stores.”
“A wise precaution. Arisanna, go ahead.”
Arisanna looks a little uncertain as she tears her gaze away from the man, or what she can see of him around Cerian, but she reaches for a brown paper wrapping and begins opening jars and adding myriad treats until the little bag is full. Then she starts on another one, much to his surprise.
How much candy does she think Elowyn needs?
After filling the second wrapping and a third one, she proceeds to the counter and eyes the display before rattling off a rapid succession of requests that the man quickly fills. The more she orders, the less wary the man appears, and Cerian’s heart swells watching her.
She’s probably buying more candy than the man typically sells in an entire day. She truly is amazing in every way.
His plant magic prods him, and he shoves it back, trying not to let his panic show. All Arisanna’s efforts would be for naught if he started growing vines around the man’s shop. Of course his magic shows up when he doesn’t need or want it.
“That should do it.” Arisanna nods, and the man sets her haul on a scale before naming his price.
The number means little to Cerian.
“I may need your assistance to count the proper coinage, my youngling.” Grandmera opens the pouch of Nunian coins Father collected before they traveled here for the binding ceremonies. She must have retrieved it from Father before they left the hotel.
Arisanna rummages in the pouch for a few coins whose faces mean nothing to Cerian before setting them on the counter. “Keep the change.” She smiles as she gathers the packages the man tied off with strings.
“Thank you, Your Highness. Please, stop by again soon. I’ll have more of the coconut chocolates your brother always asks for waiting for you.”
“He’ll love that. Thank you.” Arisanna gently sets the packages on Cerian’s apples in the bucket and steers him through the door into the bright sunlight again. Then she turns to Grandmera. “Forgive me for spending so much. I’m sure my father will reimburse—”
“Nonsense. That about-face was well worth the coins it cost. Thank you, my youngling.”
“We’ll be eating candy for days,” Arisanna says sheepishly.
“Elowyn will be delighted.” Grandmera smiles and squeezes Arisanna’s shoulders as a train whistle sounds in the distance, and Arisanna’s entire face lights up.
“Father’s here,” she whispers before tugging Cerian toward the station.
Whistling wind. Not another train.