My father came to my side, shifting from foot to foot, hands wringing. I looked between him and Morty, my eyes widening. He knew what Morty wanted to talk about, and whatever news she brought was making him anxious.
“What’s going on?” I let Herman loose, and he flapped his pink wings and swooped upward, landing on my shoulder.
“Emma,” Morty said brightly. “Take this.” She shoved the tea cup she was holding at me, and the scents of basil, strawberry, and lemon rind wafted to my nose. Some of the liquid sloshed over the side of the cup and splashed onto my slippers.
I inhaled deeply and took a sip, already feeling a calm wash over me. Morty made the best tea, not just in our village, but in all of Thaloria. Tea that merchants traveled all the way to Thistlegrove to buy and sell across the realm.
I wrapped my hands around the warm cup and took another sip, letting the delicate flavors balance on my taste buds. “Okay,” I said. “You brought my favorite tea, which you’ve never done before. Now tell me what’s going on.”
Morty placed her hands on her slim hips, bright gold bracelets jangling on her wrists and gleaming rings adorning her fingers. My father nodded at her, and my stomach twisted, though I wasn’t sure why.
“This is also for you.” Morty handed me the rolled parchment, her green eyes bright with excitement, her dark brown skin glowing. For a witch pushing seventy, Morty had the youngest-looking skin I’d ever seen, wrinkle-free and smooth except for right around the eyes.
I set down my teacup on a nearby shelf and took the parchment, unrolling it and reading. The more I read, the less I understood. Morty and my father silently watched.
I finally got to the bottom and shook my head, more of my auburn curls falling loose from my bun. “This doesn’t make sense,” I said. “You want to retire, and you want me to take over Steeped in Love?” It had to be a joke, though I wasn’t sure what the punchline was.
“Emma?” Herman echoed, disbelief in his voice. “You want her?” He pointed a talon at me.
Morty raised her small, pert nose. “I still get a cut of the profit. Since you probably can’t afford to outright buy it from me. A twenty percent cut will do.”
I blinked a few times. “That’s not what I asked. I don’t care about the profit. I care about the fact that you want to pass on the most esteemed tea shop in the realm to me.”
Steeped in Love was a special shop, one that brought tourists from all across Thaloria. Morty Hallow made tea—and love matches. I wasn’t sure how it began, but Morty had started hosting singles nights, paired with her special tea. Over the years it became known as the place to go if one wanted to find love. Morty was so good at brewing magical tea that calmed everyone’s nerves, allowed them to let down their walls so they could be their authentic selves. She always knew exactly the right flavor to serve someone. It would be devastating to Thistlegrove to lose such a popular business.
I rolled up the parchment, handing it back to Morty. “What about Layla?”
Morty’s niece who worked at the shop.
Morty scoffed, waving the parchment in the air. “That girl doesn’t know what she wants. I can’t hand over my tea shop to her. She’s not ready. But you”—she pointed the parchment at me, and I took a step back—“well, you know how to run a business. Look what you’ve helped your father build. He’s told me so much about all the systems you’ve implemented, how well you keep things running. That’s what I need at Steeped in Love. Plus, you’ve trained in potions. That’s the perfect affinity for tea brewing.”
I pressed my hands to my chest. “I can’t take over Steeped in Love.”
I shot a look at my father, one that said “can you believe her?” I expected him to return the look, but instead he stroked his jaw, and I realized this was what he’d been nervous about all morning. He knew Morty wanted to give her shop to me.
“Why not?” he asked from beside me, and I rounded on him.
How could he ask that? He knew why I couldn’t take over a tea shop.
“You’ll be right across the street.” He gestured out the window. “It’s not like you’re going far.”
“I can’t leave,” I said again, exasperation filling my voice. My father needed me, even if he didn’t realize it. “I can’t leave you all alone here.”
“Actually,” my father said, “I think I’ll be just fine. I can hire someone. Someone with an animal affinity.”
I frowned. Who would remind him to take his tonics? Who would find his wand when he misplaced it? Who would make sure he wasn’t snacking on those greasy beef chips that were so bad for his heart?
“You’ll be right across the street.” My father gently took my arm and lead me to the window. “You can visit all the time. Check in on me. But we can’t lose Steeped in Love.” He gestured to the shop with its green-and-beige awning that hung over the windows. “It brings tourism to Thistlegrove. Valuable business we depend on.”
Morty raised her eyebrows. “What do you say, hon?”
My stomach twisted into knots. They couldn’t be serious.
“Oh, just do it.” Herman rolled his eyes.
I gazed around the shop at all the animals watching our conversationwith rapt attention. The three-headed snakes, the bats, the griffins. Even the fish had stopped flitting around their water tank, instead staring at us.
It would be nice to not get bitten. Or scratched. Or burned. It would be nice to actually use the magic I’d been trained to use. Potion affinities were excellent for tea shops or breweries. I assumed I’d inherit Morty’s grimoire with all her tea spells.
