Chapter 16
DORIAN
Dorian found Ivy packing up her guitar near the fountain just as the lunch crowd began to thin. Her tip jar looked healthier than usual, and she wore the satisfied expression of someone whose morning had gone well.
"Good day for business?" he asked, settling onto the bench beside her.
"Better than expected. I think I have enough students lined up to keep me busy for weeks."
"Planning to stay that long?"
"Through the festival, at least. Maybe longer if the numbers work out." She secured her guitar in its case with practiced efficiency. "Diana's been very understanding about the room arrangement."
He tried not to smile too obviously at that. “I need to pick up some supplies, and I thought you might want to come along. See more of what Hollow Oak has to offer."
Ivy studied his face with that careful assessment he was beginning to recognize. "What kind of supplies?"
"Guitar strings, rosin for the bows, maybe some sheet music if the Mercantile has anything interesting." He kept his tone casual. "Plus Freya mentioned she had something for you at the apothecary."
"Freya mentioned me?"
"Word travels fast in a small town. Especially when it involves new residents with interesting talents."
"I'm not a resident. I'm a temporary guest."
"Right. My mistake." Dorian stood and offered his hand to help her up. "Shall we go see what the local merchants have to offer temporary guests?"
The Hollow Mercantile occupied a corner building that looked like it had been transplanted from a fairy tale, all weathered wood and diamond-paned windows. Inside, the shelves were crammed with everything from practical household goods to items that definitely fell into the magical category.
"Dorian!" Rufus Tansley emerged from behind a display of what looked like enchanted kitchen tools. "Perfect timing. That order of guitar strings you requested came in this morning."
"Excellent. And I think Ivy here might be interested in browsing your music section."
Rufus's weathered face lit up. "Ah, the famous songstress. Edgar will be sorry he missed you. He's been talking about your performances all week."
"Thank you. That's very kind."
"Kindness has nothing to do with it. Good music deserves recognition.
" Rufus gestured toward a corner where musical instruments and accessories were displayed.
"Help yourself to anything that catches your interest. We've got sheet music, picks, slides, even some specialty items for magical practitioners. "
While Ivy explored the music section, Dorian handled his own shopping with half his attention on her reactions. She moved through the displays with genuine curiosity, occasionally picking up items and testing their quality with the expertise of someone who knew instruments well.
"Find anything interesting?" he asked when she rejoined him at the counter.
"These." She held up a package of strings that gleamed with subtle iridescence. "Rufus says they're designed for fae magic specifically. Better resonance and durability."
"Good choice. Those will serve you well."
"If I stay long enough to need them."
"When you stay long enough," he corrected, earning a look that was half exasperated, half amused. “Plus, even if you leave, doesn’t mean you should stop playing.”
Their next stop was Freya's apothecary, which smelled like herbs and honey and something indefinably green. Freya herself was grinding something in a large mortar, her copper-auburn hair catching the afternoon light streaming through the windows.
"Ivy!" Freya looked up with a warm smile. "Perfect timing. I have something for you."
"Dorian mentioned you'd said something."
"Indeed." Freya reached under the counter and produced a small silk sachet tied with green ribbon. "A little something for courage. Completely natural, no magical compulsion involved. Just herbs that help steady the nerves and clarify thought."
Ivy accepted the sachet with obvious surprise. "Thank you. What do I owe you?"
"Consider it a welcome gift. From one woman with magical gifts to another."
The casual acknowledgment of Ivy's abilities made her tense slightly, but Freya's expression remained warm and non-threatening.
"That's very generous."
"We look out for each other here. Especially when someone's facing difficult decisions." Freya's gaze flicked meaningfully to Dorian. "Speaking of which, some people need to learn the virtue of patience."
"I'm being perfectly patient," Dorian protested.
"Really? It looks like you're circling like a cat who's spotted something interesting."
"I prefer the term strategic positioning."
"I prefer the term ‘grow up’." But Freya's smile took the sting out of the words. "Some things can't be rushed, Dorian. Especially when trust is involved."
As they left the apothecary, Ivy tucked the sachet into her jacket pocket. "Does everyone in this town make it their business to comment on other people's relationships?"
"What relationships?" Dorian asked innocently.
"You know what I mean."
"Actually, I'm not sure I do. Are we talking about a specific relationship, or relationships in general?"
She shot him a sideways look. "You're impossible."
"I prefer charming."
"Same thing, really."
They walked back toward the square in comfortable silence, the afternoon sun warm on their faces and the festival preparations creating a backdrop of purposeful activity around them.
"So," Dorian said as they paused to watch a group of volunteers hanging lanterns between the trees. "About our future performances for the festival. Any thoughts on what you'd like to play?"
"Something challenging."
"Define challenging."
"Something that requires actual skill instead of just pretty harmonies." Her tone carried a hint of challenge. "Unless you're not up for it."
"Oh, I'm up for it. There's a traditional ballad called 'The Blacksmith's Daughter.' Complex harmonies, intricate guitar work, requires perfect timing between performers."
"Sounds intimidating."
"It is. Most duos won't attempt it because one wrong note or missed cue ruins the entire piece."
Ivy's eyes lit up with interest. "And you think we can handle it?"
"I think we can handle anything, musically speaking." He paused meaningfully. "But do you trust me enough to try?"
"Trust you how?"
"To catch you if you fall. To follow your lead when necessary. To make the music work even if everything else feels uncertain."
The metaphor wasn't lost on either of them. Ivy was quiet for a long time, watching the festival preparations with thoughtful eyes.
"The festival runs all month?" she asked finally.
"Diana and Twyla's brilliant idea. Instead of one weekend event, they spread it out to give everyone more opportunities to participate. Musicians, artists, vendors, everyone benefits."
"And it's working?"
"Better than anyone expected. We've had visitors from three counties, and half the performers have decided to extend their stays."
"Like me."
"Like you." He studied her profile in the afternoon light. "Any idea how long you might stick around?"
"Through the month, definitely. The arrangement with Diana covers that long. After that, we'll see how expenses balance out."
"And if they balance favorably?"
"Then maybe I'll consider a longer stay. Maybe find a more permanent teaching arrangement."
The admission was cautious but genuine, and Dorian felt tension ease where he didn’t know he held any.
"Hollow Oak could use a good music teacher," he said carefully.
"Could it?"
"Definitely. Someone who understands that music is about more than just technique. Someone who can help people find their own voices instead of forcing them into predetermined molds."
"You sound like you speak from experience."
"Everyone has a story about music, Ivy. Some are just more complicated than others."
She nodded, accepting the deflection without pushing for details. "So, 'The Blacksmith's Daughter' it is?"
"If you're sure you can handle the challenge."
"Oh, I can handle it." Her smile was pure confidence. "The question is, can you keep up with me?"
"Only one way to find out."