Chapter 215 — For You, Not the Kitchen
Ren arrived with three bundles for Hearthfang and a fourth that never touched the trade-shelter table.
Nia noticed while Tovin was checking the seller marks on the larger bundles. One contained narrow woven ties ordered by two basket-making households, another held sealed packets of dried bark for Shen to inspect, and Ren's worker was opening the third. The smaller bundle stayed in Ren's hand.
Nia glanced at it, then returned her attention to the table.
Ren's smirk widened. “You can ask.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“Of course not.”
His dark-red hair was tied low behind him, with a few shorter strands loose near his face after the eastern road. Dust marked the lower edge of his dark trousers, though his boots were cleaner than Nia would have expected after the recent weather. One red fox ear remained turned toward Tovin and the workers while the other angled toward her.
Nia pointed at the bundle. “Is that part of the bark order?”
“No.”
“Then I don't need to ask.”
Ren looked entirely too pleased with that answer.
Tovin pulled one of the woven ties from its bundle and stretched it between his hands. “This is narrower than the last lot.”
“It was supposed to be,” Ren said.
“Pella asked for this?”
“She wanted something that would pass through the smaller basket rim without forcing the gap wider.”
Nia stepped closer when Tovin bent the strip to inspect its edge. The weave was finer than the ties Hearthfang normally used for heavier baskets, but it felt dense beneath her fingers.
“Does it swell much when it's wet?”
“Some,” Ren's worker said. “Not enough to lock the knot.”
Tovin looked at him. “You tested it?”
“The seller did.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Before the worker could answer, Ren said, “I tested six pieces before we loaded them. Two soaked overnight. Four were tied wet and dried under weight.”
Tovin handed the strip to Nia. She pulled against the weave, then gave it back when it held without separating.
“Pella will probably like it.”
“Probably?” Ren asked.
“She'll find something to complain about first.”
Tovin returned the tie to the bundle. “If Pella doesn't complain, she hasn't finished looking.”
Nia laughed as a woman from the upper basket row came down the path carrying an empty frame. Tovin called to her and pointed out the newly arrived ties. By the time she reached the shelter, the space around the table had become crowded enough that Ren moved toward the end post.
Nia followed him into the clearer strip of shade.
The fourth bundle was still in his hand.
Ren leaned one shoulder against the post. “Still not asking?”
“I don't care that much.”
“That is disappointing.”
He lifted the bundle just enough to draw her eyes to it.
“You're annoying.”
“I've been told.”
Nia expected another joke, but the wrapping caught her attention first. It was not the plain scrap cloth, bark paper, or tied leaf normally used for trade samples. The cloth was soft and closely woven, with a narrow cord around the middle and no seller mark, count knot, or tag.
She looked from it to Ren.
“That's not for Tovin.”
“No.”
“Shen?”
“No.”
“Kael?”
Ren gave her a look.
Nia's mouth twitched. “The kitchen?”
“No.”
The speed of that answer made her laugh. “You sound offended.”
“I brought you a riverstone.”
“That was one time.”
“It was a very good riverstone.”
The blue-green stone still sat in the small dish near her sleeping things. She had moved it there after Shen twice examined it near the kitchen and tried to remember what practical purpose she had assigned to it.
Ren held out the bundle. “This isn't for the kitchen.”
Nia looked at his hand before taking it.
“For me?”
“For you.”
Nia loosened the cord and opened the cloth.
A narrow bracelet lay inside.
Several strands of dark fiber had been braided into a smooth band. Two small reddish-brown beads sat near the fastening, with a pale polished bead between them. A blue-green streak ran through its center.
Nia tilted it toward the light. “Shell?”
“River shell.”
“You found another blue-green thing.”
“I have excellent consistency.”
“You saw it and thought of the stone?”
Ren's amber-brown eyes held hers. “I saw it and thought of you.”
Her fingers paused against the polished shell.
Behind them, the trade shelter continued without waiting for either of them. Someone asked Tovin for a cutting knife. Ren's worker corrected the count on the bark packets, and farther along the path a basket struck the ground hard enough for its owner to complain about the loose handle.
Nia ran the bracelet across her palm. It was simple, without elaborate carving or anything large enough to advertise its value across the market.
“How do you know it'll fit?”
“I've seen your wrist often enough.”
“That sounds suspicious.”
“You hand me something nearly every time I come here.”
“So you guessed carefully.”
“I judged carefully.”
“That's what I said.”
Ren's tail flicked behind him as Nia slipped the bracelet over her left wrist and drew the fastening closed until the braided band settled comfortably against her skin. The reddish-brown beads looked darker against her wrist, while the polished shell caught enough daylight to bring out the blue-green streak.
When Nia turned her hand, Ren followed the movement.
“Well?”
“It looks better there.”
Heat rose into her cheeks, but she smiled. “That was smooth.”
“I meant it.”
“That doesn't help your case.”
“It usually does.”
Nia rubbed her thumb across the shell bead. “How much did it cost?”
“Do Kael and Shen tell you what every gift costs?”
“Sometimes.”
“Then I admire them.”
“Ren.”
“No.”
She laughed. “You could've started there.”
“I prefer informed decisions.”
“You prefer being difficult.”
“That too.”
Nia reached toward the fastening, and Ren's tail went still.
She caught the reaction before she opened it. “I'm checking how this works, not giving it back.”
His shoulders eased enough to betray him.
“Turn your wrist.”
Nia held out her arm. Ren stepped closer and touched the flattened fastening bead with one finger.
“The loop twists if you pull from this side. Push the bead toward your hand first.”
His hand was warm against the inside of her wrist as he showed her the angle. He loosened the bracelet, then stopped before taking it off.
“You can do the rest.”
Nia slid the bead through the loop, examined the fastening, and secured it again without help.
Ren watched her finish.
“You thought I was giving it back,” she said.
“I considered the possibility.”
“That means yes.”
His mouth curved. “Believe whatever makes you happy.”
Before Nia could answer, one of his workers called from the table.
“Ren. These marks don't match.”
The teasing left Ren's face as he crossed back to the shelter. Nia followed and watched the worker place two bark packets side by side. Their ties were nearly identical, but the marks pressed into the dried bark differed near one edge.
Ren turned the first packet over. “Different drying houses.”
“Tovin was told one source.”
“Don't open either.”
Tovin leaned over the table while Ren checked the lower ties and ordered all twelve packets separated by mark. Seven belonged to one group and five to the other.
“If they're mixed?” Tovin asked.
“They stay mine until I know why.”
“You already paid for them?”
“Yes.”
“Then that's your problem.”
“It is.”
Ren looked toward his worker. “Was the seller still at the eastern shelter when you left?”
“No.”
“I know his next stop. Wrap the groups separately, and nothing from this lot gets offered until I confirm where they came from.”
The worker immediately began rewrapping the packets.
“What about the ties?” Tovin asked.
“Those are clean. Divide them according to the orders.”
Tovin reached for the first bundle, but Ren stopped him.
“Pella's household gets first selection.”
Tovin stared at him.
Nia covered a laugh with her hand. “You learned.”
“I listen.”
“Sometimes.”
Ren's smirk returned while Tovin shook his head and carried the ties farther down the table.
Nia moved aside as the questionable bark was repacked. Ren checked the remaining seller marks, spoke to his worker about their return route, and made sure the two groups could not be confused once they were loaded again.
While he worked, Nia turned the shell bead beneath her thumb.
Ren caught the movement when he looked up.
Tovin eventually carried the divided ties toward the upper path. Once the bark packets were secured, Ren joined Nia near the edge of the shelter and adjusted the strap across his chest. The movement shifted his coat and brought the dark-red length of his hair over one shoulder.
“You're leaving again?” Nia asked.
“Soon. We were already going east, and now I have a seller to find.”
“You didn't have to bring me anything.”
“I know.”
Nia looked down at the blue-green shell. “I like it.”
Ren's expression softened. “I know that now.”
“You didn't know when you bought it.”
“No.”
“So you guessed.”
“I made a judgment.”
“Merchant language for guessing.”
“Exceptionally well-informed judgment.”
“Based on one rock?”
“Based on you keeping the rock.”
Nia looked at him. “You didn't know I kept it.”
“I knew you didn't give it back.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“No,” Ren said, and left it there.
One of his workers called that the loads were ready.
Ren glanced toward the eastern path. “I need to go.”
“I know.”
He started toward the table.
“Ren.”
He turned.
Nia lifted her wrist. “Thank you. I really do like it.”
His gaze went to the bracelet before returning to her face.
“You're welcome.”
Ren checked the straps on the rewrapped bark, spoke once more with Tovin, and left Hearthfang with both workers. At the first stone turn, he looked back.
Nia raised her hand. Ren answered before disappearing around the bend.