Chapter 12
Lian
The heat coming from the oven was filling the kitchen with a warm glow, and it felt even cosier because of the heavy rain outside.
I wouldn't like to think about how bad it would be if Eva and Max weren't here influencing the weather and stopping anything too dramatic from happening.
Despite having lived with them for my entire life, I had no idea how their magic actually worked or what they could achieve, beyond the basics of Max being able to sense weather patterns, and Eva being able to influence the weather, whatever that meant.
I looked out of the window, watching the fat drops as they splatted against it.
I didn't know much about farming, but I had to imagine this couldn't be good for the crops.
Or maybe it was. I knew even less about that than I did about the intricacies of the weather.
Not for the first time, I found myself wondering why our parents hadn't thought to teach me how to read the same charts that Eva and Max could.
Surely three heads would be better than two even if I couldn't do the magic?
I pushed the thought away. I was in the kitchen with Pepper waiting for the mooncakes to be ready, this wasn't the time to be dwelling on potential mistakes our parents made. But if I ever had children, and if they happened to be weather witches, then I was going to do things differently.
The thought took me off-guard. I wasn't used to thinking things like that about my parents and upbringing.
It was unfair of me. I came from a long line of weather witches who had done things the way that they had for a reason, I shouldn't be the one to start questioning them when I hadn't inherited their magic.
I looked down at my hands and the cup of tea they were wrapped around. The cup was made of a thinner material than mine were, and was bigger with a handle. The steam rose from it, bringing a fragrant smell that wasn't like when I brewed tea from my own supply. It was different. Milder in a way.
I was curious to try it, and not oblivious to how much it meant that Pepper was serving me tea from her personal supply. There was something intimate about sharing this, and even though I was the one who started the exchange of tea, it made me feel warmer inside than I expected.
Was Eva right? Did Pepper like me?
I ignored that train of thought too and focused on the tea instead, taking a sip. It was smooth and mellow, not unpleasant at all, and actually very drinkable. "This is different."
Pepper smiled at me from the other side of the kitchen. "I know, right? Yours has a slight smokiness that this one doesn't."
I nodded at her description. "It's aged for a long time in the mountains. I prefer the bitter flavour, especially when paired with something sweet."
"Well, the mooncakes should be done baking soon," Pepper said, cracking the door to the oven open and peering in. "No, they're done now. Out they come."
I left my seat while she pulled the tray with mooncakes from the oven and joined her by the workbench.
The mooncakes looked almost perfect. There were darker spots on some of them, but most of the pastry was a lovely golden brown.
They had held their shape beautifully, apart from a few that had split and were leaking their filling.
"Not bad for a first attempt?" Pepper asked, looking at me for guidance, but I could tell that she was disappointed that they hadn't all come out perfect.
I nodded, pointing out a few of them. "Those are excellent and could be shared or sold. The others are, umm, for personal consumption."
Pepper chuckled, a sound that was quickly becoming familiar. She seemed to be one of those people who had a lot of joy in her life. It was nice to be around someone so bubbly without being overbearing or too loud.
When I thought about it, she was the perfect mix of calm and excitable.
"Can we try one?" Pepper asked, already reaching for a knife.
"They're actually best at room temperature and after resting a day," I replied, smiling when I saw her disappointed face. In this instance, I knew exactly how she felt. I was always impatient too. "But we can have one when they're still warm. Baker's privilege."
She raised her eyebrows. "Now you're speaking my language."
"I've been speaking your language the entire time," I pointed out, a little confused by what she meant.
"It's an expression. It means that we're seeing eye to eye, that we share the same opinion," she said, not looking at all annoyed that she had to explain something so basic to me.
"Ah, I understand. Thank you for explaining that. It's hard to become fluent in a new language," I admitted, feeling a little inferior to Eva, who picked it up so much quicker. Max struggled more, but that was mostly his lack of confidence.
Pepper moved the mooncakes on a rack so they could cool, her hands moving with a deftness that could only have come from years in the kitchen. "How many languages do you speak?" she asked curiously.
"Fluently? Two."
"And not fluently?"
"You caught that?" I asked.
She laughed. "It was obvious in the way you said it. So?"
"Four, almost five," I said with a sigh. I was still two languages behind Eva, and she was good at writing too. While I could speak several of them, my writing had a lot to be desired. I would get better at it with practice, but I never seemed to have much time for that.
Pepper gave an impressed whistle. "That's a lot of languages. You're smart-smart."
"Not really. Eva speaks four fluently and nine overall."
"Maybe it just comes easier to her."
"It does," I agreed. But that didn't stop the comments at home about how I should be keeping up with her. That was the difficulty that came with us being the same age. Sometimes I wondered if our mothers had planned to have children around the same time, but I'd never been brave enough to ask.
"Well, I think it's impressive," Pepper said firmly.
"Thank you."
"I only know this language and a handful of words from other languages, but mostly cooking and baking terms." She leaned against the counter, still regarding me with awe. "I'm so impressed. It can't be easy to move around so much and integrate into a new community over and over again."
I let out a sigh. "It is exhausting. That's why I carry some things with me that always remind me of home.
Like these mooncake moulds, or my clay breakfast pot, and I have some hairpins that are very meaningful to me.
" I didn't know why I was sharing such personal stories with her, but there was just something about Pepper.
It felt like she really cared about my experiences, my life.
Me. It was so long since anyone had wanted to know any of these things, that it seemed as if they were spilling out of me now that she had.
Pepper gave me a soft smile. "Well, I hope you and your cousins will stay a long time in Purple Oak. I know I would like it."
I could feel my chest tightening from the intensity with which she was looking at me. I wasn't good at reading people, but even I could tell that she wasn't just saying this to be polite. She meant it, and that was terrifying.
Eva's words echoed through my mind. It was going to be hard to stop thinking about them, especially when I caught Pepper looking at me.
To take the pressure off, I shifted my attention back to the mooncakes.
"We should cut into one and see if they're any good," I suggested.
They wouldn't be as tasty as if they were left to cool, but I was nervous about how they'd turned out.
Not just because I was teaching Pepper how to bake them, but also because it was the first time I'd made them in Purple Oak, and with ingredients from here, other than the lotus seeds which I'd brought with me.
The way things had been grown and cultivated had an impact on the taste of it.
"Great idea," Pepper said, grabbing a knife and presenting it to me. "You should do the honours, you know how they're meant to be divided."
"Small sections," I said, lining up the knife and cutting eight wedges that were as close to identical as they could be without measuring them. I'd cut enough mooncakes to be fairly certain that I was getting them right though.
The eight pieces looked right, with the lotus paste inside smelling sweet and nutty. Dividing it into many pieces always felt like there was more even if that wasn't true.
Pepper picked up a slice. "Any rules about eating it?"
"Not really," I said. "They're best shared with friends and family."
"I like that." She held my gaze as she picked up one of the sections.
I was transfixed as she raised it to her lips and they closed around the golden pastry of the mooncake.
I swallowed hard, and pulled my attention away before she could notice, picking up my own slice of mooncake.
I tried a bite, chewing it carefully. The sweet nutty flavour of the lotus seeds was a delight and it was just how I liked it.
Mostly firm and smooth, with a little bit of chew but not too much.
"Mmm." Pepper nodded, her slice disappearing in two bites. "Those are delicious! That's such a unique flavour, but I love it."
"Lotus seeds have a lot of health benefits too. They're very good for you," I said, finishing my wedge. Despite the slight changes in ingredients, it tasted like home.
"Why are they called mooncakes?" she asked. "Is it because they're round?" She looked over at the others.
I shook my head. "Traditionally, they have an egg yolk at the centre, so when you cut it in half, it looks like the full moon," I responded.
"An egg yolk?"
"Yes. A...salted one," I said after searching for the right word.
"We didn't do that." She almost seemed disappointed.
"We didn't have any salted egg yolks," I pointed out. "It is hard to use them if we do not have them."
"Do you know how to make them?" she asked.
"You put egg yolks in salt," I said.
"That's surprisingly simple."
I shrugged. "It needs a lot of salt, so we never did it very often. Even weather witches don't have unlimited riches."
"True. But we could try making some?" she suggested.
I nodded. "Eva would like that too. She likes grated salted egg over salad."
Pepper gave me a curious look. "I have no idea what to expect from them.
But that's a good reason to try making them," she said brightly.
"Thank you for sharing with me. And the recipe for mooncakes too.
I don't bake with other people often. I used to, with my dad before he passed.
But since then, baking and cooking has been something I do on my own so this was...
lovely. It was lovely." She reached out and put her hand over mine, making my heart skip a beat in response.
A warmth spread through me. "Thank you for caring about our traditions and for making us feel welcomed and included. It's very thoughtful."
"I'm glad you feel like that, Lian. I want you to feel welcome," Pepper said, smiling at me. She pursed her lips before speaking. "You've got some crumbs on your face."
"Here?" I reached up to wipe my mouth.
"No, more like here." Pepper swiped her thumb down my chin, making me realise just how close she was standing to me. She didn't even need to move closer to do it and was now staring at me with a strange intensity. "You have a lovely mouth, did you know that?"
My stomach fluttered as the comment registered, and what it meant. That was a compliment, a personal one at that.
Compliments, shared tea, and we'd breached intimate topics. Those were the three markers of courtship, so maybe she was flirting with me. Was that true, or did I simply want it to be true? It was hard to tell when excitement and worry were mixing in my chest.
Making connections with people was a fool's errand for people like me who moved around so much.
The last time I had serious feelings for someone, we changed location, and it broke my heart in ways I never experienced before and hadn't since.
It had taught me not to get too close to anyone. It would only end in tears.
The worries were pushed back when Pepper leaned in, her shadow falling on my face. She paused, her lips hovering a breath in front of mine. My senses heightened and then faded as she pressed her mouth against mine. Her lips were soft and smooth, and I felt the kiss in my knees.
It felt nice to be kissed by her. She was gentle, letting the kiss bloom naturally instead of rushing through it and involving hands or tongues. I liked that, it made me feel as if I could take this at the pace I wanted to.
She pulled away, still looking intensely at me. "Was that all right?"
I swallowed hard, my feelings even more conflicted than before. It was nice to have more clarity. The other three markers were always circumstantial, but a kiss was easy to decipher. It was the surest sign of courtship.
And that was exactly the problem. What was I doing getting close to someone? I should be guarding my heart, not letting an attractive woman kiss me. I didn't know how long we were going to be in Purple Oak or when we would inevitably move on.
When that happened, any bonds I forged here would only cause pain. For me and for the people on the other end of them.
"I liked the kiss," I said, feeling like my stomach was twisting into knots. "But we shouldn't do it again."
"Oh." Pepper's smile faded away as she took a step back. She looked upset but didn't lash out. "I apologise for overstepping."
And just like that, the kitchen no longer felt warm and comfortable but oppressive and suffocating. And it was all my fault for not being firmer with my boundaries and my heart.