Another witch sat at Layla’s table, brown hair long and wavy. Riven took his seat in the corner, grabbing his lute, which was propped against the chair. He’d offered to be the musical guest tonight, set the ambience, and I’d eagerly agreed.
His fingers deftly plucked a few strings of his lute as he started to sing. All the breath left my lungs. I hadn’t heard Riven sing in a long time. Long before he became famous. I heard his songs sung by others, especially other bards who did their own interpretations of them. But he’d never actually put on a show in Thistlegrove.
He closed his eyes, strumming a gentle tune while the words flowed from his mouth, smooth and buttery. Beautiful. The song was about a lost love. Haunting but hopeful, the ending hinting that the love had come back, that there was another chance.
“Are you going to actually serve the tea or just stand there and look at Riven all night?” Herman said from next to me, flapping his wings. “He is very easy on the eyes, but you have a job to do, you know.”
I startled, realizing I’d leaned my elbows on the counter, chin propped in my hands while I stared at the bard. “Yes.” I cleared my throat and straightened my apron. “I was just about to get started.” Low murmurs and conversation filled the tea shop along with Riven’s rich baritone.
The trays lifted into the air and floated toward each table.
Herman and I spent the rest of the night flitting from table to table, taking additional tea orders, keeping time, and encouraging everyone to switch tables and meet as many new partners as possible. Layla and the woman with the brown hair were the only ones who didn’t move from their tables, sitting in deep conversation.
I couldn’t help the way my gaze kept gravitating toward Riven. His muscles flexed from under his blue tunic, which had laces in the front that showed his hard chest. That same chest that had been pressed against me just a week earlier when he’d tried to save me from that shattering window. I hadn’t let myself think about that moment until now.
Riven was my friend. He was also famous and could have anywoman he wanted. Not to mention he was only here for a month and then would be off again, gone for who knew how long. There were a million reasons why he and I could never be in an actual relationship, and yet, staring at him as he played and sang so soulfully, I was starting to forget every single one, letting myself remember that night so long ago. That night we’d almost kissed.
The song came to an end, and I jolted as everyone broke into applause. Riven stood, his chest glistening with sweat. I supposed playing was hard work. He strapped his lute around his back, waving to the crowd, then shot me a smile that made my knees go weak. His dimples puckered in his cheeks, his eyes sparkling. He was meant to do this. It was clear Riven was in his element when he was playing.
He winked at me, then sat down to start playing again, and I tore my eyes away, forcing myself to wander around the room, pick up empty plates and tea cups. I strayed toward Layla’s table, overhearing her conversation with the other witch. Althea, I believed, was her name.
They spoke in hushed, quiet tones, but I picked out a few pieces of their conversation. Well, conversation was a generous term. Althea talked the entire time, Layla barely having a chance to respond. I grabbed a rag from the counter and leaned down to wipe a nearby table, wondering if the reason Layla hadn’t matched with any others was because Althea was dominating the entire conversation. I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering if I should intervene. If Morty would intervene.
Before I had a chance, the sixth bell rang throughout the village. The night was officially over, and we’d survived without a single hiccup.
Chapter Ten
EMMA
The last couple left for the night, holding hands as they strolled out the door, already making plans to come back for tea the following day. It had been a successful event, and I saw several matches come out of it.
I frowned as I watched Althea leading Layla across the street. I felt a protectiveness over Layla. She was young and impressionable, while Althea was older, could easily manipulate Layla. Rags wiped down tables, and a broom swept the floor.
“Well, that was a success.” I turned to see Riven standing there, lute still strapped over his shoulder.
“I know,” I picked up the rag that finished wiping the last table. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize how important these matchmaking events were.”
They were the entire reason Steeped in Love had gained such a big reputation. Other than the tea, obviously. I’d been foolish to cancel the first one.
“Why did you cancel the first event?” Riven asked, dropping down into a chair. The broom swept behind him.
“I just wanted to get my footing before hosting a big event,” I said. “With the shop acting up and constantly trying to impale me, I wanted to get things sorted out before I dove into something else.” I sat down across from him and realized there was a tea set sitting between us that hadn’t gotten used.
He raised an eyebrow, and I laughed, shaking my head. “The event is over,” I reminded him.
“Maybe we’re having an after-hours event.” He leaned forward.
I looked out the window at Herman flying across the street. He decided to visit his brother and sisters tonight and sleep at Arcane Creatures Emporium. He’d be back in the morning.
Dim candles still lit the shop, flickering from each table, and the fire under the cauldron popped and crackled. This was silly. I really should check in on my father. Although he was probably already asleep.
“Oh, come on. Have a little tea with me,” Riven said, nudging his head toward the shelves with a meaningful expression.
I knew what he was getting at. It would be good to put on a show for the shop. We hadn’t done much other than a few little touches and hand holding. An actual romantic date like this would be convincing.
I reached down and fished my wand from my apron, then touched it to the kettle, which began glowing. Bubbles surfaced as the water simmered. Riven placed the tins into the cups, and I poured the hot liquid over it.
He raised his cup. “Cheers.”
