Page 62 of Noble Charms

“I've no clue where this came from,” Morgan said. “I thought maybe you'd done something. ‘Spiced up’ his morning tea or the likes.”

“Spiced? With what?”

Morgan's lips thinned; his only answer. Aria hadn't a clue what he meant. Cinnamon, perhaps? It would fit the snowy days.

Aria said, “I think it's to do with Virginia, but I know not. Maybe this is what happens after he uses his Sun God gifts?” The safe he threw into the street—tossed like a newspaper, and not like a tonne of steel—had taken four craftsmen to remove. Noble, when he noticed their presence, rushed out to help, but they'd already gotten it onto their cart and departed to make the repairs. Or head to the dump. It belonged to them now.

Aria and Morgan walked side-by-side as they journeyed down the avenue. Noble, ahead, stopped to pet a puppy with a fluffy, wagging tail. Morgan said, “Maybe seeing Virginia like that was the closure he needed.”

“I hope so. She's something else, huh?”

Morgan said, “She was smart but…unkind.”

Aria chuckled. “You've a way with words, Morgan. You sure you're not one to learn the bardic arts?”

“I'll leave that to my love.” Morgan smiled as he said it, gazing up at the final vestiges of leaves that fell into the street.

Aria’s heart did a little jig across his ribs. “Whoa. Love? You love Romy?”

“Sometimes you meet someone and it's just instant…” Morgan said, waving a hand as he explained. “It's instant love.”

Noble's deep laugh, ahead of them, seemed to make a point. Aria snorted. “Sometimes it's instant disdain.” He said, “You know, I couldn't stand him when we first met.”

“I’ve heard. Noble told me about you years ago, when we first met. ‘This elven snob with the nice hair.’”

Aria's cheeks warmed beneath the cold near-winter air. “Right.” He searched for a topic change. He and Noble had not gone out to any events this week—the fuss with Virginia took the wind out of the sails for a time. “Perhaps it's time we get back out there.”

“Oh?”

Aria adjusted his grip on the bake as they stepped down a curb, and crossed the avenue, careful to dodge any carriages. “Well, it's been a week. Noble will never find a wife sitting at home with me. Have we gotten any other invitations?”

“Tomorrow is Romy's thing.”

“Could he procure a date for that?”

“It's last minute,” said Morgan. “And I doubt he'll want to try. He'll just come with you, I'm sure.”

“Ah, actually, I won't be⁠—"

Noble rushed up to them as they stepped back onto the safety of the sidewalk across the lane. “Hello.”

Aria was careful to shift the baking dish away from his sticky fingers. “What do you want?”

“To walk with my dear friends the rest of the way to Romy's beautiful new abode.” Noble tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat and fell in step beside Morgan.

“Well, we were talking, and you interrupted,” said Morgan.

“Talking? About what?”

Morgan gave Aria a look. “Romy's housewarming soiree tomorrow.”

Noble snapped his fingers and said, “That's right. We'll need to stop somewhere to get a gift. On our way back tonight?” He smiled down at Aria and said, “I'll pay for the thing if you pick it out.”

“Certainly,” said Aria. “My favorite kind of shopping, that is.”

Noble laughed, and Morgan said, “Aria, you were…” He met Noble's eyes, paused, and shrugged. “Never mind. Let's hurry up. I'm sure Romy is famished after her moving day.”

The pottery store was dark and narrow, with a single window at the front that faced away from the sun. Combined with the incense the seller burned near her seat, the dim, smoky atmosphere seemed a drastic change from the loud and vividly colored rooms of Romy's new home nearby. It was a single detached structure—very rare for New Hieroph—made of gray brick, and pressed close to three other homes nearly identical in style. It'd been built, at one time, for an extended family of orcish nobles to share. They'd since moved on, and Romy was the third owner to take over the place.