Tea Party
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WREN HAD BEEN PREPARING since dawn.
She'd cleaned the treehouse thoroughly, arranged fresh flowers (actual flowers, not magic ones) in a gourd bowl, and set up the burl wood island with her best teacups and saucers. It was a beautiful day, and she'd opened all the windows to let in the warm afternoon breeze.
But the real preparation had been the new plant. She'd been experimenting with different seeds, looking for something special to serve Sara, when she'd found it in her collection.
Pie plant.
The warmth had felt... complex. Layered. Like a complete meal in one seed.
She'd planted it that morning in her kitchen garden, watching with growing excitement as it grew.
The stalk was thick like rhubarb, with broad leaves. And as it matured, a flower bloomed at the top, eight petals spreading out like... wooden spoons?
No, wait. They were spoons. Wooden, smooth and sturdy, each one supporting a small savory pie. She could see steam rising from them—meat pies, vegetable pies, cheese and herb pies. Each one was perfectly cooked and still warm.
"Well that's remarkable," Walter said, watching from his perch. "But where are the sweets?"
As if answering, the center stamens sprouted upward, forming a second smaller layer. These held tiny sweet pies of fruit, custard and chocolate. Like a tiered serving platter. Then the stamens curled together at the top, forming a handle.
"It's a tea tray," Wren breathed. "It grew an entire English high tea service!"
"Brilliant!" Walter approved. "Miss Sara will be delighted."
At precisely three o'clock, Wren heard hoofbeats at the gate.
Sara arrived on a borrowed horse, her face flushed with excitement. "I've been looking forward to this all week!"
The dandelions greeted her curiously but let her pass when Wren waved. Sara dismounted and looked around, eyes wide. "Wren. This is amazing."
The property had filled in beautifully over the past two weeks. Organized sections, thriving trees, the stream with its water lilies and small pond, the wash drum rotating gently. Everything green and alive and impossible.
"Come inside," Wren said, unable to contain her smile. "I made tea. And I have something special to show you."
They settled at the island counter. Wren poured tea—from a tea tree pot, naturally—and brought out the pie plant.
Sara gasped. "Is that... are those pies? On spoons? Growing from a plant?"
"Pie plant. Watch this." Wren lifted the entire structure by its handle. The tray held steady, all the pies perfectly balanced. "It's a complete tea service."
"That's incredible!" Sara reached for one of the savory pies, a small meat pie that fit in her palm. She bit into it and her eyes closed in bliss. "Oh my gosh. It's good. Really good. Still warm!"
They ate their way through the savory layer, trying each variety. The meat pie was rich and flavorful. The vegetable pie had a perfectly seasoned filling. The cheese and herb was creamy and delicious.
"This is my new favorite thing," Sara declared, reaching for the sweet layer. "How is this even possible?"
"Magic pun logic." Wren selected a fruit pie. "I'm still figuring out the rules, but apparently pie plant means literal pies."
"And it made spoons and a serving tray. That's so thoughtful!" Sara tried a chocolate pie and made happy noises. "You could sell these at festivals. People would go crazy." She took another bite and sighed happily. “Forget that; these could be an entire shop by themselves. You’d be rich!”
Wren smiled wryly. "It’s not the production of things that worries me, it’s the management.
I don’t have time to manage all the inventories of things I can grow.
I mean, who would run the shop? I would have to rent a place, or buy it, and hire someone to run it.
” It wasn’t that she couldn’t learn to do those things, but it felt like a big step.
"Still, it would be worth it." Sara tried another sweet pie, custard this time. "This is the best tea party I've ever been to."
They talked for hours. Sara shared town gossip about who was courting who, which businesses were thriving, the latest scandal about a merchant caught watering down his wine. Wren told her about the various plant failures, the snapdragon disaster, the money plant disappointment.
"I keep a journal now," Wren said, showing her the leather-bound book. "Tracking what works, what doesn't, which plants produce ongoing crops versus one harvest."
"Smart. You're building a whole system." Sara looked around the treehouse. "You've done so much in just two weeks. It's impressive."
"I'm still learning. Every day there's something new to figure out."
"Well, you're doing it right. Half the town shops indirectly from you now.
Madame Lin won't stop talking about your silk.
Mei told me she's getting requests for your linens and GreenHam.
" Sara grinned. "And you've got Viktor Andersen and the Marshall competing for your attention. That's quite the achievement."
Wren felt her face heat. "They're not competing."
"Wren. Please. Everyone sees it. Viktor's being charming and helpful. Jin's being protective and intense. They're absolutely competing."
"Jin's just doing his job."
"Jin lit your lantern at the festival and looked at you like you were the only person there. That's not just doing his job." Sara's expression turned more serious. "Be careful though. Viktor's... complicated. And Lyra's getting worse."
"Worse how?"
"Erratic. Angry. She showed up at my shop yesterday demanding I tell her everything you'd said about Viktor during the festival. When I said we didn't talk about him, she accused me of lying." Sara frowned. "There's something off about her lately, more than just jealousy."
Wren thought about the scene at the festival. The wild magic, the fury in Lyra's eyes. "Jin told me to send word if she causes problems."
"Good. Don't hesitate." Sara finished her tea. "On a happier note—Mei-Lin asked me to invite you to her birthday gathering next week. Small thing, just friends. She really likes you."
"I like her too. She's funny."
"And you're good for her. She needs friends who aren't intimidated by her mother." Sara stood reluctantly. "I should head back before it gets late. But thank you for this. It was perfect."
Wren packed up the remaining pies and walked Sara to her horse.
"Come back anytime," Wren said. "Really."
"I will! And you come to town more often. Don't hide out here." Sara hugged her. "You're part of the community now. Act like it."
Wren watched her ride away, feeling warm and content. It was nice to have friends.
She went back inside and looked at the pie plant tray, now empty but still beautiful. She would definitely be replanting that one! Unless, like rhubarb, it kept regrowing from the roots? What a wonderful possibility.
Then she sat down with her journal and wrote:
Pie plant—MAJOR SUCCESS. Complete English tea service. Savory and sweet pies, complete with spoons and a carrying handle. Possibly one-time harvest? Will monitor. Note: This is easily my favorite discovery so far. Sara loved it. Perfect for entertaining.
She closed the journal, smiling.
Two weeks ago she'd been alone, terrified, barely surviving. Now she had a thriving farm, successful trades, real friends, and apparently two men interested in her.
And a plant that grew an entire tea party.
Life was getting interesting.