My arm ached with the effort of scrubbing the window. This grime just would not come off. I’d tried different cleaning potions Mama made, tried good old-fashioned soap and water, tried using every bit of strength I had.
We’d cleaned most of the cottage now—except for the windows, which we still could barely see out of.
I looked up at the cottage. “Are you doing this? Are you not letting us clean the windows as some kind of punishment? We’re trying to fix you up, you know.”
In response, the window swung open, letting in a blast of cold air that hit me in the face. I glared at it. “Forget it. I give up.”
I walked out of the cottage into the forest. The chitter of birds and insects surrounded me, along with the gentle rustle of the leaves. I inhaled a deep breath of the pine and cedar scent, which then reminded me of Draven. How I’d smelled him last night at the tavern when I leaned down to say goodnight to him. I might have specifically leaned down so I could smell him, which made me feel like I’d truly lost it.
I rubbed my arms, his words coming back to me.
“But I can think of far more pleasurable ways to get the tension out than by attacking you.”
I’d spent all last night tossing and turning, a throb between my legs that I’d finally had to take care of with my hand. The entire time I thought about Draven, what it would be like to feel him—all of him. That night on the couch had just been a taste, but it had been enough to ignite a hunger that, no matter what I did, wouldn’t subside.
Which was a problem, given what Helena had told me. I chewed my nail as I thought. I could ask Draven about the accusation, but that would betray Helena and possibly put her in a bad position.
Draven was clearly connected to Witch Superior—at the very least through his parents. And that was just another reason I needed to stay away from him. Witch Superior was the one person who could ruin my family, so we needed to keep as far away from her as possible.
I groaned, rubbing my face. This was a disaster.
“What are you doing out here in the cold?” Auggie approached from between the trees surrounding our cottage. “Did the house kick you out? It did that to me the other day, you know. Just opened the door and pushed me right out into the cold.”
I gave her a look. “That’s because you kicked the door and called it a piece of junk.”
“It wouldn’t open!” Auggie said.
I studied her. “Where have you been?”
She raised her nose. “Just out and about. Making friends. Connections.” She brushed past me, and I stared after her as she went inside, slamming the door behind her.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Auggie, but she didn’t always make the best decisions. I hoped whatever she was up to, she was being careful.
Rustling sounded behind the cottage, and I wandered around to the back, where Adelaide and Mama were working on the garden, both on their knees with dirt coating their hands and smudging their cheeks.
“What are we planting today?” I asked.
Adelaide looked up, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. I hoped my sister would always be this happy, this alive. “We just planted spinach. I had an idea for a spicy sausage, spinach, and noodle soup.”
My mouth watered just thinking about it. Adelaide hadn’t been this inspired in years. She was always the cook when we camped, but she’dmade simple recipes, nothing fancy when it came to combinations, herbs, spices.
“And Mama’s spells are working wonders.” She gestured to the garden, full of tomato vines, peppers, herbs, and a number of different flowers. “Protecting all the plants from the cold weather and pests.”
Adelaide dug a hole in the ground and dropped a seed in. “Mama is working on a new potion to make the vegetables grow faster, and I think I have some ideas for chilled soups once summer comes and it gets hot.”
“I don’t even think we’ll need to get our apothecary shop back up and running,” Mama said. “This soup stand is doing so well, and our to-go soups are starting to take off. Yesterday, old man Veldar came to our house demanding more of that tomato basil soup we made.”
I could just imagine him stomping up here, shaking his cane in the air and yelling for soup. “I guess that’s a compliment,” I said, then frowned, realizing what Mama had just said.
“We’ll need our cart eventually.”
Mama frowned. “Well, yes, we’ll get our cart back, but I think our soup idea is a hit.”
“So you think we’ll sell it on the road?” I asked, trying to understand how that would work. “The problem will be all the ingredients since we won’t have a garden anymore. We could buy everything from the market, but right now our profit is so good because we grow most of our soup ingredients...”
Mama and Adelaide had both stopped digging holes in the soil and were looking up at me with perplexed expressions.
“We won’t sell soup on the road,” Mama said, exasperated. “We’ll stay here in this cottage and sell it at the market.”
