Page 13 of Many Ruined Vows on a Forbidden Frolic

I redirect my attention to the tray of seeds and goop, surprisingly relieved that the moment is over. “I had a good teacher.”

“Right,” Dhek chuckles.

He pats my back, nothing like the seductive charm he’d been giving this whole time. Something about the cordial gesture makes meeting his gaze easier than before.

His eyes dart toward the distance again. Curious, I follow his gaze.

Baskets of lunaplume succulents overflow along the bank. The starseeds have already been removed, but dozens of servant-folk work in tandem to harvest the other materials lunaplumes provide. Little pink spikes are shaved from the crescent-shaped stalks, then each is sorted into separate baskets. Other workers rinse the shaved stalks in the cool waters of Eternal River. The rinsed stalks then get squeezed empty of their sweet syrup into liquid-retaining waterskins made with the fibrous wood of Aevemoon Iris trunks, the rinds tossed in a separate basket.

It’s madness to consider that all of these boons are thanks to the Wise Ones and their gift of the Spiritgrove. Lunaplumes only grow when lunapulp harvested from iris trunks is wrapped in leaves of the spiritvine known as crawling ravenglory and buried in soil treated with lystag manure.

I’m so awe-struck by the beauty of the process, I startle when Dhek clears his throat.

“Are you all right?” I ask, hesitantly reaching for his shoulder and dropping my hand at the last moment.

“I’m sorry, Loreleivnna.” Dhek picks at the wood on the workstation.

“Whatever for?”

“You probably know this, but I used to have an Aevumoon Iris trunk-size crush on you,” he chuckles. When his murky sunshine eyes meet mine, wetness lines the bottoms.

Oh. It’s rejection.

I suppose I should feel a fraction of the anger that I felt when Pikr cast me aside, but my next breath comes easier than all those in the past hour combined.

He glances at Pikr, and so do I, but my Guardian is glaring at his book instead of us. I place a reassuring hand on Dhek’s shoulder and squeeze.

“Wilt not. I’ve always been fond of you, too,” I say. For the next part, I lower my voice. “Besides, I already knew how to prime a wild pumpkin, so you weren’t the only one pretending.”

Dhek’s laughter is real this time, and my heart lightens. My first choice in a political arrangement is a failure, but I won’t lose a friend today. My passing interest in Dhek was a fleeting means to an end. Hopeful, yes, but forced.

“Thank you, Lori.”

Dhek pulls me into a brief embrace, and my gaze accidentally locks onto Pikr. His book lay half-open on his flank, his arms crossed.

The grin that slithers across my lips feels malicious, but I do my best to make it appear like something else, hoping to stoke the grouchy centaur’s ire.

“No worries,” I say as we release each other.

With the heavy expectation removed from the mood, Dhek and I return to work with our own tools this time. His furtive glances toward the river become more frequent.

I clear my throat. “If the wind is calling you elsewhere, I’m happy to finish up here.”

There are few wind-whisperers in Svitaeryl, and most are employed by the palace in one form or another. I don’t believe there’s actually a zephyr whispering his name on the breeze, but hope he’ll recognize my olive branch.

Dhek looks between me and the object of his distraction. “Are you sure?”

“For petal’s sake, go on.”

The smile he gives me then is the most genuine I’ve seen scrunch his triangular button nose all day.

It’s none of my business why Dhek’s so enraptured by a servant, so I don’t bother to watch him hoof off. Half of our pickings are still uncarved. I set a slow pace, choosing to chop them all into halves instead of one by one. It’s a calm autumn day, and having something to do outside without having to sneak out of the palace is never a chore.

A breeze floating up the hill tickles my senses with the smell of wild pumpkins and fresh lunaplumes, like honey and pine. I take another, deeper inhale, and the comforting scent is accompanied by smoldering fire, spiced vanilla, and soft, lived-in leather.

Chapter Ten

Loreleivnna