Chapter 18 #2
Lior was clearly having a hell of a day. Her hair had half escaped from its usual braid, her doublet was thoroughly coated with dust, and the spot between her brows had a pinched furrow like the world was weighing on her mind.
“Twenty books, yeah,” Oaklin said solemnly. “Maybe even thirty. Can you show me to the right section and teach me how to find what I need?”
“But of course! This way,” Lior said with a solicitous bow. “I’d be delighted to help. Magical farming books, right?”
“Yes, please!” Oaklin chirped. At a glare from Sister Talla a few rows back, they added: “To start. I could also use some recommendations for novels, but I have no idea what I want to read.”
“We’ll get you the perfect book no matter how long it takes,” Lior replied with the air of a librarian’s solemn vow. Perfectly professional…except for the way their eyes kept meeting over stacks of books, and the way their shoulders brushed more than might be expected as they browsed the stacks.
“You know, we haven’t had a second date yet,” Lior murmured, gesturing as if she were intently discussing the book in her hand.
“Not for lack of wanting,” Oaklin assured, punctuating the statement with a discreet squeeze of Lior’s wrist. “Farming is a lot.”
“So I hear,” Lior said, cheerfully leading Oaklin to the small section of romance novels. “Let’s find you the next best thing, yeah? Something to remember me by.”
Oaklin flushed, but happily obliged.
They managed to soak up all of Lior’s remaining shift with their questions—much to her delight—and met Sister Talla’s stern expression with a bright smile when they headed up to the desk with their armload of books.
After the entire haul had been recorded into the logs, Lior cheerfully let Talla know she was done for the day and heading out.
Talla’s expression darkened, and they raised a finger at Lior, mouth open to begin a good scolding, but Lior breezed right on past, towing Oaklin along by the hand.
As soon as they were out the door, Lior let out a massive sigh and turned toward the tavern.
Oaklin followed close beside her, books safely tucked in one of their market baskets.
“You are an absolute lifesaver,” Lior said, glancing at Oaklin out of the corner of her eye. “I’m really glad you came by.”
“I wish I could come by more often,” Oaklin said.
They were up at sunrise every day, learning from Granny, planting new seeds, harvesting what was ready for market, weaving spells for pest prevention and moisture retention, foraging in the forest when time allowed.
It was a lot. Their first season as a farmer was going well—possibly too well, their mind whispered—but it was taking up every last drop of energy Oaklin had.
Physically, mentally, emotionally, magically, they ended every single day drained, and on the rare occasions they felt they could take an afternoon off, they spent the whole time sleeping.
But they had missed their new friends. Especially Lior. Maybe it wasn’t too late to set up that second date.
Oaklin summoned a smile to cover their spiraling thoughts. “Aren’t you worried Sister Talla will get after you even worse next shift, after what we just pulled?”
Lior waved it away. “Eh, it’s fine. Sister Talla can’t hate me any more deeply than she already does. I’ll live.”
“Hey, maybe you’ll get lucky one day and she’ll get transferred. She seems like the promotable type, right?”
Lior’s eyes fell shut at the sheer pleasure of the thought. “Oh, Three Above, we should be so lucky. I’ll pray for it.”
Lior held open the door for Oaklin and their basketful of books, revealing the bustling scene of the post-market tavern, busy as ever with ale pours aplenty and late lunches of cool salads and sandwiches, anything that wouldn’t require a cook fire.
It was far too blazing hot outside for that nonsense.
When Oaklin stepped over the threshold, the vibe was very different from their first post-market visit.
Before, Oaklin had been a curiosity, something to gossip about.
Now, they got a few respectful nods, even a wave, as they and Lior made their way over to Ryn and Jules’s table.
“Ah, Lior, I see the jailbreak was successful!” Jules said, scooting a chair out with a shove of their boot. “So glad you could join us.”
Lior flopped into the chair with visible gratitude. “It was a near thing. I appreciated the help.”
Ryn shook his head with a tsk. “It must be hard for Sister Talla, being such a giant wet blanket.”
“What’s her deal?” Oaklin asked with a frown. “Something must have happened to make her so terrible. No one’s awful for no reason, right?”
Ryn put a hand to his heart with a soft expression. “You’re a generous soul, Oaklin. It’s so sweet that that’s your first thought.”
Or a damaged, paranoid soul, but sure.
Jules leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “Talla predates all of us, but word is that she used to be completely different. Always a firecracker, but you know…a nice one. Apparently kids loved her instead of being scared of her.”
“So they say. I’m not sure I believe it,” Lior said with a skeptical tilt to her mouth. “But hey, the Three Above say we should look for the good in everyone, I suppose. Even when it’s really, really hard.”
Ryn’s mouth twisted into a regretful smile. “Unfortunately not even festival season can thaw Sister Talla out.”
“Ha! The opposite, in my experience,” Lior said. “The more other people enjoy life, the worse she gets.”
“Festival season?” Oaklin asked.
Ryn’s eyes went wide. “Oh, you haven’t heard?”
“They’ve been a farm recluse for the last month; how would they know?” Jules said, swatting Ryn on the arm, then turning to Oaklin. “No offense, lovely.”
Oaklin laughed. “No point in being offended by the truth. If it’s not dirt, bugs, or plants, I’m oblivious.”
Lior’s expression took on a careful hesitance, something awkward suddenly pulling between them. “Still, I’m surprised you haven’t heard people talking about it at the market,” she said. “This village loves its festivals, and it’s a huge selling weekend for the farmers.”
“Plus, the party is amazing,” Jules added. “It’s a huge weekend for a lot of things.”
Lior’s cheeks went pink, but she didn’t elaborate on Jules’s assessment.
Ryn held up two fingers with a serious expression.
“This is actually really important for you to know. We’ve got two festivals coming up soonish: the Midsummer Festival, which is in just two weeks, and the Autumn Harvest Festival a few months later.
The village goes all out. There’s food, games, dancing—”
“And the most interesting part,” Jules cut in. “Finding your midsummer match.”
The accompanying eyebrow dance gave Oaklin a pretty good idea of what that meant, but Ryn filled in the blanks anyway.
“It’s traditional for people to pair up for the festival, especially for the bonfire dance in the evening,” he said, sounding suddenly wary.
Jules nodded enthusiastically. “Things get pretty wild the night of the festival. Even the more buttoned-up folks let their hair down, or at least lighten up their judgmental stares. Even Talla, sometimes.”
Oaklin must have made some kind of expression at that, because Lior laid a hand on their arm with a neutral expression. “Even if you aren’t into the, uh…revelry, it’s still fun to go with a friend and dance all night. It’s a great event. You should definitely come.”
Well, how could they say no to that with the warmth of Lior’s fingers on their skin?
The conversation turned to memories from last year’s festival, including some rather juicy gossip about a certain bard after Jules went onstage to play a set. It sounded like a rowdy night, indeed. A perfect chance for Oaklin to make themself more at home in Mossley’s Rest.
And the perfect chance for another date, if Lior was still up for it. If the monthlong gap between dates hadn’t scared her off.
Once Jules began his second set on stage and Ryn disappeared to the bar to get another drink, Oaklin found themself alone at the table with Lior, who smiled softly as her head bobbed along to Jules’s tune.
“So, the Midsummer Festival,” Oaklin began, trailing off as Lior looked over, eyes lit with hope.
“Yeah?” she asked.
Oaklin gripped their drink so tight it nearly slipped out of their hands. “Do you, uh…wanna go together?”
Lior let out a little huff and grinned down at the table, then looked back up to meet Oaklin’s gaze.
“I’d really love that,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”
Oaklin snorted, looking away to hide their unhinged smile. “Thanks for not minding that I’m a farm recluse.”
“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I brought our first date out to the farm,” Lior said. “It’s not bad that you’re a hard worker, or that you care about what you do. I admire that. I mean, I literally chose a profession that dictates my entire life.”
Lior reached across the table and took Oaklin’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “But maybe you also need someone to remind you about life outside of work too, hmm? You’re more than what you produce.”
“Someone should tell Ryn the same thing,” Oaklin said.
Lior’s gaze flicked up to the stage where Jules was taking a song request from a little girl, beaming when she began to dance along to his tune.
“Jules has been telling him,” Lior said. “He’s just not listening. The most kind and gentle stubborn ass I’ve ever met in my life. If he won’t listen to Jules, then I’m not sure he’ll listen to anyone.”
Oaklin turned their hand over to trace their fingers along the lines of Lior’s palm, delighting in the smile it pulled from Lior’s lips.
Their first date had been a moment of sweetness outside of time, unexpected and messy though it was.
Lior was worth seeing more of. Who knew what a second date together could bring?
Especially a second date at a “wild” Midsummer Festival.
Oaklin let their gaze slide over to Lior, whose mouth quirked into a shy smile.
“Can I kiss you in front of all these people?” Oaklin asked.
Lior grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “Trying to send a message to all the suitors flocking to you like amorous geese?”
Oaklin apparently hadn’t run out of blushes for the day. “Maybe a bit. But maybe I also just want to kiss you.”
Lior leaned in close to speak the next words against Oaklin’s mouth. “Then let’s give them a bit of a show, yeah?”
Yes, the Midsummer Festival was going to be fun.