Page 14 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
The moment is interrupted as Reid walks up to us. “We’re gathering at the ruins tomorrow night. Bonfire, drinks. You both should come.”
Aurora immediately brightens.
I scowl. Before I can refuse, Reid adds, “It’s a farewell for Geralt. He’s leaving for the capital soon.” Then he’s gone, called away by his mother.
Aurora turns to me expectantly.
“No,” I say firmly.
She raises a brow. “No?”
“Fiora, Lyria, and Maribel will never approve,” I reply.
“It’s ridiculous, Thalric,” she counters. “We’re both technically adults… old enough now to get an apprenticeship somewhere if we wanted.”
“Icould,” I point out. “But you’re not twenty-three yet.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, tipping up her chin. “Well, I will be soon.”
I purse my lips, already knowing how this is going to go. “We’ve already gotten into trouble once this week, Auri.”
“So we’ll just have to be careful.” She leans closer, eyes glittering with mischief. “Just trust me.”
A heavy sigh leaves my mouth. I have a strong feeling I’m going to regret this. But when it comes to Auri, I find it nearly impossible to say no.
CHAPTER 7
AURORA
Fire crackles on the hearth, casting a golden glow across the cozy interior of our cottage. Shadows dance over the polished wooden floors and shelves cluttered with herbs, old books, and bundles of dried flowers. The air smells like rosemary, lavender, and something sweet—fresh cupcakes piled high in a basket on our sturdy oak table.
Lyria drifts toward me, her delicate dragonfly wings shimmering in the firelight. She beams with pride, handing me the basket. “Take these for the celebration, Aurora. I made extra, so you should have plenty for everyone.”
“Thank you, Lyria. I’m sure everyone will love these.”
Her baked goods are always appreciated by my friends. Lyria has an affinity for plant magic, and she often uses it to make ingredients like raspberry and vanilla more potent and flavorful.
“Don’t forget your cloak,” Maribel adds, draping it around my shoulders. “I have a feeling it will rain later, my dear.”
Maribel is hardly ever wrong about the weather. Her water magic makes her especially in tune with the rain.
She turns to Thalric and hands him another basket.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“A gift for your friend’s birthday.” She smiles. “I labeled it from both of you.”
I wince inwardly as Thalric offers her a guilty smile in return. He’s never been good at lying and I’m worried they’re going to figure out something’s wrong.
Sure enough, Fiora eyes me from her seat by the window, arms crossed over her crimson gown, suspicion gleaming in her emerald gaze. “Whose birthday did you say it was again?”
I suppress a sigh, giving her my most innocent look. “Raina’s.”
It’s not entirely a lie. Raina’s birthday is this weekend, and she will be at the gathering, but not exactly at the bakery where Fiora thinks we’re heading. And instead of a birthday celebration, it’s actually Geralt’s going away party.
Fiora holds my gaze a heartbeat longer before reluctantly nodding. “Don’t stay out too late.”
“We won’t.” I smile sweetly.
