Chapter 3 - Willow
Willow
The mountain air was crisp, verging on chilly, now that I’d taken a break from herb-gathering.
I leaned back against a large tree, staring at the blank pages of my journal.
Why had I even brought it with me? I was done with my book, so I didn’t need a journal on hand to jot down any bursts of inspiration.
Not that they’d helped anyway. My book was obviously terrible.
I shoved the journal back in my bag, glaring at the manuscript I’d hidden in there too.
I’d put so much work into that story, but the gods had rejected it almost immediately.
I ran my fingers over the faded and well-worn piece of paper they’d sent me, staring at the words written on it.
The story speaks, but the heart is silent.
If that was my reward for all the time I spent writing, for all the nights I lost sleep just to get a few hundred more words in, then it definitely wasn’t worth it.
There was no way I’d put all that effort into a book again, not after that reaction.
I assumed they’d love my book just as much as I did and I hated this gross feeling in my stomach now, like I’d failed something important.
This was exactly why I never should have tried in the first place.
Getting attached to something only ever led to pain.
Which was why the main character in my book succeeded without falling in love.
The opportunity was there when her greatest enemy turned into an ally, and they even had sparks and good chemistry, but she chose her duty as a Queen.
She saved her kingdom from a long war and named a new ruler, ending the story as a powerful woman who didn’t need anyone else.
It was dark and a little tragic, but full of emotion. That apparently wasn’t enough for the story gods though.
“What will it take to get this book out of my head?” I muttered, staring at the bright blue sky. “I just need to get over it and move on.”
“Hard to do when you keep talking to yourself about it,” a familiar voice said.
I jumped to my feet, dropping my bag as I whipped around to see the Demon Lord of all people.
He waltzed up to my tree as if he owned the mountain, dark shadows contrasting with the bright noon sun.
I’d never seen him outside in the middle of the day like this, not to mention all the dragons flying around him like he was some kind of shepherd and they were his flock.
“Are you stalking me?” My heartbeat pounded in my ears. “First my apothecary shop and now here?”
“If I was stalking you, you’d never even see me. I can literally blend in with the shadows and you’re the most unobservant human I’ve ever met. You didn’t even hear me coming up the path.”
“I was distracted.” I let out a breath as I gathered everything that had fallen out of my bag. Pencils, pens, journal, all sorts of stuff that an apothecary didn’t need. “So what are you doing here then?”
“Preventing a rampage.” He frowned at the dragons. “These lizards are chaos incarnate.”
One of those chaotic dragons chose that moment to land on the Demon Lord’s horns like an adorable purple sidekick. The Demon Lord swatted at him, snarling obscenities, which only made the whole thing more ridiculous. I snorted, turning it into a cough when he glared at me.
“What? It was cute,” I said, not even bothering to apologize. “You should thank the dragon for making you look good.”
Not that he had any trouble doing that on his own, but he was kind of fun to tease.
He grinned. “If you think they’re so cute, then you should love that one stealing your stuff.”
I glanced behind me just in time to see a sapphire dragon flying off with the note the story gods had left me.
“Hey! Give that back!” I tried to snatch the note away, but the dragon darted out of reach every time I got close, like we were playing a game. If I wasn’t careful, he’d burn the note to a crisp. I took a deep breath and looked at the Demon Lord. “Mind helping me out?”
His smile turned devious. “Maybe. If you say please.”
It was like he was daring me to say it, to fall on my knees and beg for his help. I’d have refused immediately, but the way his dark eyes roved over me had my throat in a vice grip. Did he realize how attractive that look was?
Probably. But there was no way I actually liked him. This was just a game and two could play at that.
“Oh dark and terrifying Demon Lord, please save my notes from these dragons before all is lost.”
He stared at me for a while before shaking his head. “You really aren’t afraid of me, are you?”
“Only in your dreams. Now can you help me or not?” I nodded at the dragon chewing on my note.
Shadows swirled around him, reaching out to the dragon in question.
The dragon tilted his head, dropping the note in favor of chasing the shadows instead.
More dragons joined in, zooming around the Demon Lord as his shadows zipped around the clearing.
They’d obviously played this game before and loved it.
Even the Demon Lord had a little smile on his face as he watched them.
When he caught me looking, his brow furrowed. “What’s so important about a scrap of paper anyway?”
I caught the note as it fluttered through the air, stuffing it safely in the pocket of my work overalls.
“Nothing.” I snatched up an empty basket I’d brought with me. “I’m going to go pick herbs. Thanks for your help.”
He nodded, following me as I moved to a patch of knee-high feverfern that was a beautiful silvery-green right now.
When steeped in tea or ground up into a tonic, the fern boosted a person’s immune system and helped lower fevers.
It was the most potent at the end of autumn, so we always tried to have a large stock gathered in preparation for winter.
My back twitched as the Demon Lord continued to study me, ever watchful and intense. After a few minutes, he knelt beside me and started picking the ferns too. I sighed, letting my shoulders relax. Of course he’d just been watching how to properly deal with the ferns.
I had to get my thoughts under control if we were going to keep running into each other like this.
“It didn’t seem like nothing,” he said softly, adding the plants to my basket with care. “The paper, I mean.”
He really wasn’t going to let that go, huh? I focused on digging up the delicate roots without damaging them, before answering. “It was the reply from the story gods at the festival.”
“And?”
I yanked a root a little too hard, snapping it in half. “And it’s none of your business, that’s what.”
He added herbs to the basket as if nothing happened. My guilt said it all though. He was only trying to help, and I’d snapped at him like a jerk. He was even keeping the dragons occupied while we worked so they didn’t nip at the plants or knock over my basket.
I dug another plant up carefully. “Sorry. The story gods just didn’t like my book, that’s all. They said it had no heart, but it’s fine. I never wanted to be a writer anyway.”
Silence stretched between us as we continued filling the basket, but I could feel his gaze on me like an itch I couldn’t scratch. He obviously had something to say but was keeping quiet for some reason. Once we’d dug up half the patch of feverfern, I brushed off my hands and turned to him.
“Just say it.”
He carefully rearranged the ferns and their roots to fit as many as possible in the basket. “I was just wondering if the story gods were really that harsh or if maybe you took it wrong? Nyssa said they provide guidance to writers, not crush their spirits.”
“My spirits are not crushed.” I scoffed. “And there was really no other way to take it. My book sucks. End of story.”
“I somehow doubt that. What did your Gran say about it?”
I scuffed my boot in the dirt, avoiding his gaze. “Well, she hasn’t read it yet.”
“Okay, what about your friends?”
I bit my lip, refusing to admit I didn’t have any of those. Acquaintances sure, but nobody close enough that I’d let them read my book.
The Demon Lord reached out, lifting my chin so I had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “You didn’t let a single soul read your story before deciding it was terrible, did you?”
“No, that’s what the story gods were for.” I jerked out of his grip, heat burning my cheeks. “What’s it matter to you anyway? You’re supposed to be evil incarnate, but it sounds like you’re trying to encourage me.”
“So what if I am?” He crossed his arms, staring at me. “I think you’re just afraid to let anyone read it.”
I tried to laugh it off, but it sounded hollow even to me.
I winced. “You don’t get it. If Gran read it, she’d feel obligated to tell me it was amazing.
She’s sweet like that and my stories remind her of Grandpa, so there’s no way she’d tell me it was bad.
And the same thing would happen with friends too.
If they said something nice, I’d probably think they were sugar-coating it to spare my feelings. ”
Or maybe I was just too afraid of what their response would be.
A harsh answer from the story gods was one thing, but from Gran?
I wasn’t sure I could deal with that. Not that it mattered.
I was an apothecary. I knelt in the dirt again, digging up each plant with the care they deserved.
This was where I felt most at home, with my hands in the dirt and the smell of fresh herbs in the air.
The Demon Lord leaned down next to me, his voice soft. “I’m not your friend or your family. Let me read it.”
I froze, fingers entrenched in the dirt. He wanted to...read my book? That was ridiculous, why would he care about my story?
Except somebody who didn’t care about me or my story might actually be the perfect person to read it.
He was right: he wasn’t my friend or my family.
He barely knew me, so he shouldn’t feel bad giving me his honest thoughts.
It would be nice to be able to talk to somebody about it and see where I might need to edit.
Not that I was planning on wasting any more time on that story, but it was good to have options.
I wiped my hands on my overalls, getting them as clean as possible before opening my bag.
I’d brought my manuscript with me in case Gran’s curiosity got the better of her and she tried to read it while I was away, which was silly, so maybe I just hadn’t felt comfortable leaving it behind after so many days of having it in my bag.
“Here.” I held the pages out to him with trepidation. “It’s the only copy I have, so be careful.”
His shadows curled around it as if they were extra hands, pulling it to him. He didn’t even look at it before tucking it away and adding the last of the herbs to the basket.
“Really? That’s it?” I asked.
“Well, I can’t say anything until I read it.” Exasperation filled his voice. “Unless you expect me to do that now with you watching me.”
“Uh, yeah, I pretty much do.”
He stared at me, as if trying to figure out if I was serious or not. Honestly, I wasn’t sure either, but the moment I’d handed my story over to him it was like my entire body had filled with anxiety. I wanted to know what he thought as soon as possible, but I was also afraid of knowing it.
What a pickle I’d gotten myself into.
“On second thought, I don’t need you to read it. It’s fine.” I held my hand out for the book, but he took a step back instead. “What are you doing? Give it back.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Not until I read it. You can’t tempt me with a good story and then take it away.”
He was insufferable. I should get out of here before I did anything embarrassing like sit him down and force him to read. “Fine. Just let me know what you think and don’t let anyone else read it.”
He handed me the basket of herbs, leaning close enough for his long hair to brush against me. “I swear, I’m the only one who will touch it.”
My breath caught in my chest. He was even more handsome up close with those long lashes and gorgeous purple eyes.
Like amethysts sparkling in the sunlight.
My pulse pounded in my ears as I grabbed the basket from him, careful not to accidentally brush against his hands.
That was the last thing I needed. Words escaped me, so I just nodded and fled down the mountain.
This was going to be a long few days waiting for him to read my book. I’d have to stay busy with work and hope Gran didn’t tease me too much for giving him my story when I’d refused to let anyone else read it.
No, she was definitely going to tease me about that.
Ugh. He better read like the wind.