Chapter 10 All Warm and Melty Inside
ALL WARM AND MELTY INSIDE
Minerva woke to the sound of wind howling against the portholes and ice crystals forming patterns against the glass.
She stretched luxuriously under the thick duvet, warm and content, and reached for Zephyr’s hand.
He was already awake, propped up against the headboard with his reading glasses perched on his nose, perusing the daily newsletter that was slipped under their door.
“Good morning, my dear,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “It seems we’re in for a proper winter’s day.”
“Are we still moving?”
“Indeed. The Celestine Queen’s stabilization charms are working so perfectly that you’d never know we’re currently flying through a snowstorm.
” He held up the parchment. “According to The Current, today is a travel day. No stops, no tours. But we’ll be kept busy.
The crew has organized a full day of holiday activities aboard the ship. ”
Minerva sat up, intrigued. “Oh? What sort of activities?”
“Let’s see... There’s a book exchange in the library, based on the Icelandic ‘Jolabokaflod’ tradition.
That’s going on all day. There will be a cookie decorating session in the dining room, a holiday market in the atrium with vendors selling handcrafted goods, and…
” He paused to smack his lips. “This sounds lovely. Staff will be passing by with hot glühwein and mulled cider all day.”
“That does sound perfect for a snowy day,” Minerva said, already imagining curling up in a corner of the library with a new book and a hot drink.
“They’re also featuring demonstrations throughout the day. Ornament making, traditional Yule crafts, that sort of thing.” Zephyr folded the newsletter and set it aside. “I’m rather looking forward to a leisurely day. No rushing about, no cheese emergencies.”
Minerva laughed. “One can hope, but the day is young, dear!”
By mid-morning, the atrium had been transformed into an enchanting winter market. Strings of lights crisscrossed the ceiling, and small wooden booths lined the perimeter, each one draped in evergreen garlands and twinkling with fairy lights. The air smelled of cinnamon, cloves, and pine.
Each booth displayed different traditional handmade wares: carved ornaments, knitted scarves and mittens, beeswax candles, small wooden toys, and lacy paper snowflakes and lanterns.
Cruise ship staff circulated with trays full of charming souvenir mugs filled with hot beverages.
It was difficult to choose between the glühwein, mulled cider, hot chocolate with peppermint, and spiced tea.
At one end of the atrium, a long table was set up for cookie decorating. Guests were free to choose from the stacks of either plain gingerbread men or round sugar cookies as their canvas.
And then it was time to start embellishing!
Children and adults alike clustered around, wielding icing of every color and sprinkles of many shapes and sizes with varying degrees of skill, enthusiasm, and stickiness tolerance.
On the other end of the atrium, Jasper was browsing at a booth with snow globes for sale, each one more intricate than the last. The artist, an elderly wizard with paint-stained fingers, was explaining the symbolism behind various designs.
“This one,” he said, holding up a delicate glass sphere with a tiny jeweled camera surrounded by stars, “represents the act of capturing memories in your mind. The light we save from everyday moments might otherwise fade, were it not for the camera of the imagination.”
Jasper stared at it, thinking of Wren framed between the tree branches, ribbons streaming out behind her. That moment he’d captured only in his head.
“It’s perfect! I’ll take it,” he said impulsively.
The vendor wrapped the snow globe carefully in tissue paper and tucked it into a small box.
Jasper slipped the box into his jacket pocket, his heart hammering.
He wasn’t sure when, or even if, he’d have the courage to give it to Wren.
But having it at the ready felt important somehow as he crossed back over to the cookie table where she was snapping photos.
“I feel like I’ve stepped inside a cheesy Yule card,” Wren mused when he snuck up beside her.
She was enjoying capturing the warm glow of candlelight on so many happy faces.
She pretended she hadn’t noticed Jasper shopping in the snow globe booth.
She didn’t want to get her hopes up. But she’d told him that she collected snow globes, and he seemed to have a spring in his step that he definitely hadn’t had a few minutes ago.
Moreover, he was smiling like he was quite pleased with himself.
“Hey, would you like to decorate a cookie with me?” Jasper asked, then immediately looked embarrassed. “I mean, if that’s not too childish. We could just go browse at the market instead, if you prefer. Or—”
“No, no! Are you kidding? I’d love to do a cookie with you,” Wren said simply. Jasper’s face lit up.
“Great! Let me just tell Bayard where I’ll be for a bit.”
When Jasper returned to the cookie-decorating table, Wren had set their cookie aside. Instead she was helping a small girl who’d gotten frosting all over her hands and was close to tears.
“Here you go, Lisbeth,” Wren said gently, handing the child a wet cloth. “No harm done. And look, you can make that squiggle a part of the design. See? Now it totally looks like snow.”
The girl’s face brightened, and she attacked the cookie with renewed enthusiasm.
Jasper watched Wren, so patient and kind. She made him feel all warm and glowy inside. Part of it was the magical holiday ambiance. But a larger part of it was Wren’s natural charm. She grinned at him now. He noticed she had sprinkles stuck to her cheek.
He reached out to brush them off, then tasted one. “Mmmm! Chocolate freckles are the best.”
“I have no idea how those got there.” Wren giggled. Then she changed the subject. “Have you seen Fred’s new sweater?”
“No?” Jasper cocked his head. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Fred all morning. “Where is the little guy?”
“He’s over there, modeling for his supper. Putting on quite the show! Who knew what a ham that little bird was!”
She pointed toward the knitwear booth, where Fred was waddling self-importantly between the displays, modeling his newest wardrobe acquisition: a tiny cream-colored sweater with an embroidered cheese wheel emblazoned across the back.
He paused dramatically in front of a group of guests, then pivoted on his webbed foot, waddling back around the tiny booth for a second pass.
“He’s absolutely precious,” the vendor cooed, straightening Fred’s collar. “I couldn’t have found a better model for my line. Who could resist such a cute duck in a handknit sweater?”
Fred quacked proudly and continued his circuit of the market, accepting compliments and treats from admirers.
“Just let me know if he gives you any trouble,” Wren said. “Bayard asked me to keep an eye on him while he’s in a meeting.
“Oh, he’s no bother at all,” the vendor said. “I should probably be offering him a salary!”
“All right, then!” Wren turned back to Jasper, who was still watching her with that goofy “I-have-a-secret” grin.
“About that cookie…” He held up a tube of frosting and a bowl of rainbow colored sprinkles. “I hope you don’t mind getting a little messy!”
“Bring it on!” She smiled.