“Tell me, Leyna De Ven. Did your friends by chance have a bet in place to determine whether or not you would be brave enough to come in and ask me all these questions?”
Her eyes lit with surprise. “How did you know?”
“I have some talent for mind-reading,” said Serilda. In fact, she was very good at knowing what was in the minds of bored, mischievous children, having spent so much time with them.
Leyna looked properly impressed.
“How much was the bet for?”
“Two coppers,” said Leyna.
“Then I will make you a deal. I will tell you the story of how I came to be in that castle this morning, in exchange for breakfast.”
Beaming, the girl slid into the chair opposite Serilda. “Done!” She cast a winning smile out at her friends, who were bug-eyed to see that Leyna was not only talking to Serilda, but had even sat with her. “They thought I wouldn’t do it,” she said. “Even the adults down at the market are afraid of you. It’s all anyone was talking about once you walked away. Said you had cursed eyes.” She studied Serilda’s face. “They are strange.”
“All magical things are strange.”
Leyna’s eyes widened. “Is that how you read minds? Can you?…?see things?”
“Perhaps.”
“Leyna! What are you doing, bothering our guest?”
Leyna stiffened. “Sorry, Mama. I was just—”
“I invited her to join me,” said Serilda, with a sheepish smile. “I may not be a scholar’s assistant, but I am truly curious about this city. I’ve never been to Adalheid before and I thought she could tell me more about it. I’m sorry if I’m keeping her from her work.”
Lorraine tutted and set another plate of food in front of Serilda—pickled fish and boiled ham, dried plums, a tiny dish full of winter berries. “Not much work to be done today. She’s all right.” But she said this with a warning look at her daughter, and the meaning was clear. She was not to overstay her welcome at this table. “I’ve sent word off to Roland. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear.”
“Thank you. This town is lovely, I’m sad to not visit for longer. I hadn’t heard much about Adalheid, but it seems so … prosperous.”
“Oh,” said Leyna. “That’s because of the—”
“Fantastic leadership,” interrupted Lorraine. “If I do say so myself.”
Leyna rolled her eyes. “Ma’s the mayor.”
“For seven years now,” said Lorraine proudly. “Ever since Burnard over there decided to retire.” She nodded her head toward the man by the fireplace, who was lazily finishing his pint of ale.
“The mayor!” said Serilda. “You seem so young.”
“Oh, I am,” she said, with a bit of a preen. “But you won’t find anyone who loves this town more than I do.”
“Have you lived here long?”
“My whole life.”
“Then you must know everything there is to know about this place.”
“Of course I do,” said Lorraine. Face growing serious, she lifted a finger. “But I’ll tell you now, I’m no gossip.”
Leyna laughed, but tried to cover it up with a cough.
Her mother glowered at her. “I won’t suffer my daughter to gossip about the people around here, either. You understand me?”
Leyna quickly sobered under the intense look. “Of course, Mama.”
Lorraine nodded. “You did say you were heading toward M?rchenfeld, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Just making sure. I’ll let you know what I hear.” She bustled back toward the kitchen.
“No gossip,” Leyna muttered as soon as her mother was gone. “The thing is, I think she might actually believe it.” She leaned across the table, dropping her voice to a whisper. “But I guarantee she and my father started this inn because she loves to gossip, and everyone knows a public house is the best place for it.”
The door opened, bringing with it a crisp breeze and the smell of fresh-baked bread. Leyna perked up, eyes brightening. “And look at that. Here comes the best gossip in town right now. Good morning, Madam Professor!”
A petite woman with fair skin and auburn hair paused a few feet past the door. “Oh, Leyna, when are you going to start calling me Frieda?” She hoisted a basket up higher on her hip. “Is your ma around?”
“She’s just gone to the back,” said Leyna. “She’ll be right back.”
As if on cue, Lorraine reappeared behind the bar, already beaming.
“Watch this,” Leyna whispered, and it took Serilda a moment to realize she was talking to her.
“Frieda! What good timing,” said Lorraine, strangely breathless, when she’d seemed fine a moment ago.
“Is it?” said Frieda, setting the basket down on the bar.
“We have a guest from out of town who is interested in the history of Adalheid and its castle,” said Lorraine, gesturing toward Serilda.
“Oh! Well. Perhaps I can … um.” Frieda glanced from Serilda to her basket. Back to Serilda. Back to the basket. Up to Lorraine. She seemed flustered, her cheeks pinkening, before she gave herself a little shake and lifted a napkin from the basket. “First, I … I brought some cinnamon-pear cakes for you and Leyna.” She pulled out two small cakes wrapped in cloth. “I know they’re your favorites this time of year. And I received a delivery from Vinter-Cort yesterday.” She started pulling leather-bound books from the basket. “Two new volumes of poetry, a translation of folktales from Ottelien … the history of various trade routes, an updated bestiary, the theology of Freydon—oh! Look how lovely this is.” She produced a codex with thick vellum pages. “The Tales of Orlantha, an epic adventure written in verse hundreds of years ago. I’m told there are sea monsters and battles and romance and”—she paused to visibly temper her enthusiasm—“I’ve been wanting to read it since I was a little girl. But … I thought I would let you choose first? If there’s something you wanted to borrow?”
“I’m still reading the book you brought last week!” said Lorraine, though she did pick up one of the volumes of poetry and flip through it. “But I’ll come to the library to choose something new as soon as I’m finished with it.”
“Are you enjoying it?”
“Very much so.”
Their eyes met, both filled with mutual smiles.
Leyna shot Serilda a knowing look.
“Good. Wonderful,” said Frieda, starting to pack the books back into the basket. “I hope to see you at the library soon, then.”
“You will. You’re a gift to Adalheid, Frieda.”
Frieda’s cheeks went scarlet. “I’m sure you say that to everyone, Madam Mayor.”
“No,” piped up Leyna. “She really doesn’t.”
Lorraine shot her an annoyed look.
Clearing her throat, Frieda returned the napkin to the top of the basket and backed away from the bar. She turned to Serilda, a bit of a bounce in her step. “You’re interested in learning more about Adalheid?”
“Before you get her to talking,” interrupted Lorraine, “I’ll warn you, I’ve heard that Roland will be waiting for you at the south gate in twenty minutes’ time.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Serilda. She shot an apologetic look to Frieda. “You must be the town librarian?”
“That’s me. Oh! I know just the thing. I’ll be right back.”