Chapter 3 #2
Selene giggled. “Not those silverfish. Sea-silverfish. But look at them…” She gestured toward the growing line of customers, many already laughing and marveling at their magically altered appearances.
“People are drawn to transformation—it’s in their nature.
” Her gaze flicked to Maude. “Except you, of course. You’d rather haunt your apothecary than let anyone see you smile. ”
Maude shrugged. “Once you stop showing up, people stop expecting you to.” She glanced at the crowd and sighed. “I’ll admit, it’s…something. They’re happy, I guess. And Oli…” Her voice trailed off as she watched him chatting animatedly with another customer, his enthusiasm boundless and infectious.
“Sometimes people just need a little magic to remind them of who they might be,” Selene said, her smile never faltering. “Even if it’s just their eyebrows turning green for a night.”
Maude rubbed at her temples. He had gone out of his way to help her, turning what could have been a humiliating disaster into something that actually seemed…
fun. Not her kind of fun, but still. She’d been so wary of his endless schemes that she’d never stopped to consider the why. He didn’t have to do any of this.
She glanced at Selene, her tone softer this time. “You’re starting to sound like him.”
Selene gave her a knowing smile. “Maybe he knows something we don’t.”
Maude turned back to the booth, watching as he poured his heart into every interaction. She didn’t know if she’d ever match his energy—or his optimism—but for the first time, she allowed herself to wonder if maybe he was right.
“Man the stall, would you?” Maude said to Selene, though her eyes were fixed on Oli, who was already collecting money like a gremlin hoarding gold. “And keep an eye on him. If he starts making promises he can’t keep, I am not cleaning up the fallout.”
Selene blinked, her expression briefly flickering with what might have been exasperation. “Fine. But if he juggles potions, I’m letting him deal with the consequences. He could use the lesson.”
“Fair,” Maude muttered, tugging the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder.
Without waiting for more commentary, she turned on her heel and slipped away, heading for the woods.
The cobblestones gave way to dirt, the cool evening air brushing against her face as the noise of the crowd faded behind her.
Her cheeks burned, muscles aching from the relentless smile plastered on her face.
She needed this curse off now.
These woods were hers. Every twist in the path and every shadowed glade felt like an old friend, familiar from years of foraging for the rare ingredients that kept her shop alive. Not everything she ever needed grew here, but what she needed tonight was close at hand.
Her boots crunched over fallen leaves as she moved with purpose, scanning the underbrush until she spotted it—starlight thistle, its dusky purple petals curling like tiny fists.
Perfect.
Maude snapped a few off, careful to avoid the sap that could make her fingers numb for hours.
Next, she found a patch of weeping sage nestled under a jagged rock.
She crushed them between her fingers, releasing their sharp, almost metallic scent.
The last piece was trickier—she needed water touched by moonlight.
She scoured the underbrush for ten minutes before she found a tiny, glistening spring. Maude dipped her hand into the cool water, scooping enough to fill the small flask she always carried.
With her supplies gathered, she found a flat clearing and grabbed a large rock. She closed her eyes and muttered a low incantation, her breath steady as she channeled her magic. The rock shimmered, its rough surface softening and reshaping until it became a small, lopsided cauldron.
Maude placed it on the ground, drew a circle of salt from her pouch around it, and snapped her fingers.
A faint blue flame flickered to life beneath it, heating the water until it bubbled.
One by one, she added the ingredients. The mixture hissed and spat, releasing a faint mist. She stirred it with a stick, muttering under her breath about Oli’s idiocy.
When the potion turned a pale green, she reached out to dip her finger into the concoction, but the rustling of bushes nearby made her freeze.
A tall, broad man burst into the clearing, his jet-black hair sticking out at odd angles, a thick beard swallowing half his face. His wild eyes locked on hers, and for a split second they just stared. Then the bushes behind him rustled again, and his face drained of all color.
Before Maude could even process it, he lunged toward her.
She raised her stick in defense. “Listen, Bigfoot, I’ve had a day—”
“Quick,” he blurted, panic dripping from every word. “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”
Maude froze, one eyebrow shooting skyward. “I’m sorry, what?”
“My girlfriend,” he repeated, dragging a massive hand through his equally massive beard. “You’re my girlfriend. Right now. Please.”
Her eyes widened, the cursed grin still plastered on her face as a middle-aged woman stepped out of the bushes, her sharp gaze locking onto the stranger like a hawk on prey.
“There you are,” the woman said, her tone as sweet as poisoned honey.
Maude turned, her stick still raised.
The man let out a casual laugh, though the strain in his voice exposed him. “Ah, you found me!” he said, sliding an arm around Maude’s waist and yanking her to his side. She let out an indignant squeak as he pulled her closer. “My lady here summoned me—very urgent business.”
The woman narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “This is your…lady?”
He dipped his head solemnly. “Yes. Like I told you, I am very much spoken for. Extremely. Happily so.”
Maude sighed. “Oh, yes. Overjoyed.” She jabbed his ribs with her elbow. “Couldn’t be luckier.”
His grip only tightened, and Maude turned her head to glare at him—just as he leaned down, aiming for her cheek. Their lips collided.
Maude’s breath caught as his eyes widened in shock. He jerked back so fast it was a wonder he didn’t snap his neck, then cleared his throat hard, as if that could erase the moment.
The older woman’s shoulders sagged, reluctant acceptance settling over her. But as she turned to leave, she shot the man a sly, lingering smile. “Well,” she drawled, voice low and suggestive. “If you ever tire of…that one, you know where to find me. I’ll even let you call me mommy.”
“Wow.” Maude blinked, her grin somehow stretching wider. “That’s horrifying.”
The man coughed into his fist, gaze fixed anywhere but the woman. “Uh…noted.”
He stayed rooted to the spot, stiff as a board, while she sashayed back into the bushes.
Maude patted his chest. “Congrats, lover boy. You survived.”
His shoulders sagged, arm dropping from her like dead weight. “Saints, what the hell was that?”
“It’s the beard,” Maude said, not even looking at him. “Ladies go wild for it.”
He laughed, running a hand through the offending facial hair. “Apparently, it didn’t work on you.”
Maude rolled her eyes as she turned back to her potion. “It takes a lot more than a beard to hold my attention.”
With a quick spell, she conjured a small cup out of a fallen leaf, dipped it into her potion, and drank more than she probably should have. Warmth spread through her cheeks, and she felt her face finally relax, the cursed grin falling away into her preferred neutral, deadpan expression.
“Oh,” the man said, gesturing toward the cup. “Let me get some of that.”
Maude arched a brow but handed it over. He gulped down the serving without hesitation. Within seconds, his jet-black hair faded to blond, and his beard vanished completely.
Maude stared at him, horrified, as realization dawned. It was him.
The bakery bastard.
She shoved Wesley so hard he almost stumbled into the cauldron. “Why didn’t you tell me it was you?!”
He grinned sheepishly, scratching at his now-bare jawline. “I dunno. Thought the beard might buy me some time.”
Maude groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I cannot believe the guy who sells sugar-coated death traps to children kissed me.”
“Well, technically, you kissed me, so.”
Maude reached for her stick. “Start running.”
He tilted his head, that infuriating grin still in place. “You seemed unusually pleasant tonight. I thought maybe that smile meant you’d finally warmed up to me.”
“You lying snake. You knew I didn’t know who you were.”
His brows shot up. “Why the hostility? What have I ever done to you?”
Maude jabbed a finger at his chest. “You ruined my life!”
He blinked, incredulous. “I ruined your life by opening a bakery? Next to your shop? Do you hear yourself?”
She stormed off, stomping through the underbrush toward Market Square. “Leave me alone before I curse you.”
Behind her, Wesley sighed but didn’t follow.
“Enjoy being miserable!” he called after her, his voice thick with exasperation.
She flipped him off without breaking stride.