Noemi studies me before placing her hand over mine. "Busy, but you're making gorgeous dresses? You've been coming intomy shop at least every other day for the past month. You're in high demand, just like Arabella."
"And your work doesn't come with the risk of cavities," Arabella adds. She pauses. "Although I could stop that with an anticavity potion, if I didn't know someone would take it as permission to sit down and eat every sweet in sight."
"You're welcome," Noemi says proudly, giving her a wink. "Both you and Lissy have been keeping me busy."
Everyone turns toward me.
I swallow and nod. "Yep. Apparently, there are a lot of people getting married."
"Maybe you should raise your prices," Arabella says gently. "You make beautiful dresses, and I've seen what you charge. You could double your prices and still be undervaluing yourself."
I comb a hand through my hair. "Yes, but... I don't want to. Every bride deserves to feel like a princess, no matter how much money she has."
Gods know I couldn't afford one of my own dresses.
Not that I'll need one anytime soon.
Still, if the day ever comes, I hope someone would show me the same kindness.
"But you're working yourself to the bone, Lissy," Lyra says. "You deserve more."
I deserve more than a family curse, too, but I don't say it. I don't want to drag them into those thoughts, especially when it seems like all of us brought our own baggage tonight.
Everyone except Lyra. In her newlywed bliss, she keeps trying to pull the rest of us toward happiness, no matter how hard we resist.
So I change tactics. "Well, I might be forced to raise them soon. If the rumors are true."
"What rumors?" Lyra asks, alarm slipping into her voice.
I take another deep drink and gather my thoughts. "Supposedly, fabric is going to be harder to get. There's talk of tariffs on every textile coming into the Starlit Reach. If it happens, I'll have to raise my prices just to cover the cost."
Arabella stares at me. "Lissy, that's awful."
I shrug. "It happens, I guess."
Except it feels like a punishment handed down to those of us stuck at the mercy of other people's trade deals.
"If it happens," I say, "I don't want to make things worse for the brides who need me."
Because that's the truth. If I have to pay as much as the rumors say, I still don't want to ruin anyone's dream.
Noemi sighs. "Lissy..."
I draw in a breath and push away the melancholy, along with the memory of the orc in her shop. Handsome as he was.
Then I give her a sardonic smile. "Noemiiii," I say in the same tone. "I'm all right. I'll figure something out."
"Right," Lyra says. "Well, we're here tonight, and we're having a girls' night. No one is going to stop us."
"Ahem," says a low, deep voice behind me.
I jump. It's not the same voice I heard in Noemi's shop, but the timbre makes me think orc immediately.
Which is silly. Lord Oakenshade was only visiting. There's no reason he would ever come to June's Tavern.
Aragos, Lyra's newly minted husband and an orc hottie, if you think orcs are hot, which I'm beginning to suspect I do, stands behind me and glares at his wife.
She rolls her eyes. "If you think you can stop me from having a girls' night out, then you don't know the woman you married very well."
