Aelindra Moonwhisper's Arc

Chapter 2 of 9

Three days after the honey bun, the shorter officer came back alone. No gray coat this time. A plain wool jacket, hair damp from the rain, a bunch of yellow wildflowers held stem-down at his side. Aelindra saw him through the front window and felt her stomach drop. The small rain cloud drifted down from the rafters and stopped at her shoulder before she could call for him. "Trouble," the cloud said. "He's off duty." "Worse." The bell jangled. The officer stepped inside the vined shop and set the flowers on the counter beside the golden register. He said his name. He said he'd been thinking about her all week. Then he asked how long she'd lived in town, where she'd trained, who her family was. Easy questions with no easy answers. She wiped flour from her hands and smiled the way her mother had taught her to smile at ambassadors. She said she'd trained abroad. She said her family was complicated. He laughed. He asked which bakery abroad. He asked what her surname was. He leaned on the counter like he had all afternoon. Behind her, the mossy oven gave one soft hum, and she felt sweat start at the back of her neck. She reached for a honey bun on reflex. The cloud drifted in front of her hand. "No," he said, low. "Same trick twice. He'll notice." She pulled her hand back. He was right. If she softened this man again, the man would wonder later why he kept forgetting his own questions, and a curious officer was worse than a smitten one. She had to send him away without magic. She had to do it now. Aelindra picked up the flowers and set them gently back in his hands. She told him she was flattered. She told him she wasn't looking for company, not this year, not with the shop so new. She kept her voice warm and her eyes steady, the way she'd watched her mother refuse suitors at long tables. His face changed twice. First hurt. Then something harder. He asked, quieter now, why a woman who gave away free bread to strangers wouldn't sit ten minutes with a man who asked politely. He said he'd come back when she had time to answer his questions. He said it like a promise. Then he left, flowers and all, and the bell rang behind him. She locked the door and pressed her forehead to the wood. The cloud hovered near her ear, silent for once. She had refused him without magic, which meant no one would come sniffing after a second enchanted patrol. She had also made an off-duty officer feel small in his own town, and he had walked out remembering every question she'd dodged. The oven hummed again behind her. She would have to bake through the night now, before he came back with the coat on.