“You should remember it too, Violette. I learned vampires don't have a heart, so don't be surprised if he stabs you with a dagger in the back,” she warned.
“Speaking of daggers,” Dante cast a glance at Violette, “I'm sure she can get ahead of me.”
Violette met Lamia's gaze burned with questions.
“Never mind, we had a few disagreements,” Violette said with an awkward smile.
“Fine, you two have a lot of secrets, I see. You can keep all of them but one I still want to know. What potion do you want to brew?”
“If you don't know then you are a bad potionist,” Dante arrogantly remarked.
Her face painted in gloom in an instant – Violette would do the same if someone doubted her abilities in the potion field.
“I have a few guesses, but I am not Wisenheimer, Dante.” She opened her mouth again but the sudden sound of the bells interrupted her – a man entered the shop.
Dante's eyes flashed at Lamia as a silent hint she is better to go to her new customer and stop nosing out about their business here.
The witch traced her sight from him to Violette and finally said, “If you need a place to brew your potion you can use a pot over there.” She pointed at a little table near the window and spun on her heels in the direction of the man wandering above the little pots with powders.
Dante carefully watchedas Violette threw more and more ingredients into the black cauldron. Her moves felt clear and confident – she definitelyknew what she was doing. Meanwhile, she tried to not think about him being that close to her, it was making her nervous.
Indeed, the emerging potion wasn't that hard to brew with her skills. When it came to potion making Violette was attentive and concentrated, certain in her actions and wasn't afraid of a failure. She had the same faith in her work as she had faith that if you are really diligent, you'll get anything your heart desires.
“How long does it take?” Dante peeked inside the pot, drawing his brows together.
“Around an hour.” Her eyes fixated at the open pages of the book in her left hand. “Give me a spoon.”
Dante took a long wooden spoon hanging on the wall nearby and handed it to her, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table while continuing to watch her work. The liquid was changing its color inside the pot with every new powder and herb before his eyes, until they locked on her face and he no longer paid attention to the potion.
Violette's serious and collected expression changed as her eyes shifted to him.
“What?” her voice filled with wonder.
“Nothing,” he said simply and then straightened his back. “I'll look around, do your thing.” And he left without spare words, leaving her alone with her best friends – the spoon and thepot.
Violette was replete with excitement as she finally had an opportunity to escape her thoughts about all that was going on in her life. For a moment she could forget about all of it and just do what she truly loved.
A white tendril of Nevar Garras landed on the liquid surface. Violette looked into the book to check the recipe, her fingers reached to the brown bag and she dropped a pinch of Emersus powder in the pot – the liquid inside was slowly boiling, the bubbles that formed on the surface burst one by one. With each new ingredient, it changed color until it turned into a light shade of pine. The slight fresh scent, reminiscent of a breeze, tickled her nostrils.
She was mixing the potion when the sound of steps from behind hit her ears, making her exclaim. It was Lamia – the witch crept up completely silently.
“Oh, excuse me. I thought it's Dante,” Violette exhaled.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” She smiled and then curiously looked over into the pot. “Hm, the potion looks good!”
Violette's face beamed. “Thank you.”
“So you know how to handle a pot and a spoon, I see,” she teased in a kind way.
“I work in a potion shop on the continent.”
“So you're from the continent! Oh, I'd like to go there one day.” The witch leaned with her hand on the table. “It's so interesting to see thewizards and sorcerers community, where magic is…you know, everywhere and not as unusual.”
Violette softly chuckled. “Yes, you have different rules here but it's indeed interesting. And traces of magic still here. It's justdifferent.” Violette quickly glanced at the bubbling pot. “I miss home, but this place isn’t bad. And your house truly looks like something from a fairytale!” She happily looked back at the woman.
“You think so? Are your houses not the same?” Lamia quirked a brow.
“Yes, indeed! It looks more casual – wizards are very neat,” Violette prolonged,slowly stirring the potion, her tone steady and velvety like butter.
