Page 41 of Tusks, Tails & Teacakes
He nodded. “Everyone thinks I should love to fight.”
The softness of his voice constricted her chest. “Everyone thinks I should have elvish powers, but I don’t, so I get it.”
He lifted his gaze to her. “You told those boys to get lost or you’d turn them into newts.”
“I did?” She shook her head. “I guess I was counting on them not knowing I don’t have powers, or that elves can’t transform people into newts. Not that I wouldn’t have turned them if I could. I hate bullies, and I know what it’s like to feel like you never quite fit in.”
An orc who didn’t relish battle and wasn’t loud and raucous wasn’t what anyone expected. If she was being truthful, Korl wasn’t what Lira had expected.
He didn’t reply but he didn’t look away. Lira tried not to squirm under the intensity of his gaze and the heaviness of the air between them, wondering if she should break the silence. Then he jerked his head to the stove and released a breath. “It shouldn’t burn anything else.”
“Thank you again for fixing it. You really didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” As Korl took a step back with his gaze fixed on the oven door, Lira busied herself with clearing up her work area and quiet settled between them once more.
“Grognick’s beard, that smells good!” Sass walked into the kitchen with her nose lifted. “Are they ready yet?”
Lira had been so consumed with her conversation with Korl that she hadn’t noticed the pungently sweet aroma emanating from the oven. “Not yet.”
“If you have a moment before they’re out, folks might not say no to some of that fancy tea to go with their scones.”
Lira looked up at Korl after Sass had gone. “What folks?”
Twenty-Four
Lira and Korlemerged from the kitchen, the orc holding the swinging doors open for her as she wiped her hands on the front of her apron.
Lira stopped short when she saw that there were, indeed, folks in the great room. She’d expected Sass and maybe Durn behind the bar, but she hadn’t anticipated Tin or the halfling baker Pip.
The door of the tavern was propped open, and Sass stood on the threshold with her hands on her hips, occasionally lifting one to throw a wave or beckon an unseen someone.
“What is she doing?” Lira asked herself more than anyone.
Korl folded his arms over his chest, the quiltedleather breastplate buckling, and then grunted. “I think it’s your scones that are doing most of the work.”
The neatly dressed haberdasher hurried over to her, tugging on the points of his brown tweed vest that contained most of a russet-colored shirt with voluminous sleeves. “What a wonderful idea, dear. Wonderful, wonderful.”
“What idea?”
He beamed up at her, lines spidering his face. “To sell your scones as an afternoon pick-me-up, of course.”
“To sell—?” Lira hadn’t gotten far in her spluttered question before Sass’s throaty voice cut her off.
“Scones and chai,” she corrected, throwing an arm as far around Lira as it could reach. “Three copper bits for the pair.”
Lira opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“I wouldn’t mind trying a scone and some of the fancy tea your friend here has been telling us about.”
This came from Pip, who still had his own flour-encrusted apron tied around his waist and wore the lingering scent of yeast like a signature scent. His sparse, wavy hair stood on end with bits of dried batter speckling it like doughy jewels.
“Oh, I’m sure my scones are nothing like your bread.” Lira felt her cheeks blaze. The last thing she wanted was for the village baker to think she was trying to steal his business.
But Pip’s grin was genuine. “That’s why I’d like to try them. I don’t serve scones or cakes or any of the treats your gran used to bake, and I have no intention to start.”
A breath rushed from Lira as her shoulders sagged with some measure of relief. “If you’re sure.” She shot Sass a look. “We hadn’t planned on serving anything but supper.”
“Aye, but plans change.’ Sass thumped her on the back. “Besides, who can resist that smell?”
