I got over that too.

Right. That’s what this was. Imogen couldn’t let this fantasy go on any longer as she rolled her eyes. “Or you make him nervous.”

“Because he likes me,” Jaron insisted as he emphasized his teasing with a smolder.

”Or, get this,” she said, smiling as she shook her hands in front of herself, her grin immediately falling, “he may not like being put on the spot.”

Jaron laughed, stacking the cups off to the side. “I dunno, I think you’re just jealous that–” Imogen cocked her hip, putting her hand on her side, snorting herself. “Sure. If that’s the rabbit you want to chase today, just make sure it doesn’t get in the way of your job. Why don’t you help organize the back once you’re done there?”

“You don’t want my pretty face up front today?”

Imogen tilted her head at him, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. “Are you asking me if I want customers today?” She paused, putting a finger on her lip. “Hm.” She let a moment pass as if her question held any of the significance that warranted such a lengthy pause. “You know, Jaron,” she said, nodding slowly, “you should be up front. Give the door your best smile.”

He snorted, waving her off. “It’s like you have no faith in me.”

“Is it that obvious?” Imogen asked with a grin. She nudged him as she passed. “Just make sure you’re ready to go. We open in five.”

Jaron rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. It can’t be any worse than yesterday, can it?”

Imogen stopped abruptly. Her eyes flicked back to him with faux seriousness. “Do you like testing god?”

“When it suits me,” he said with a wink. Imogen took in a breath, shaking her head as she finished cleaning off one of the machines on the back wall. Jaron leaned down on the counter, crossing his legs behind him as he watched the streets slowly come to life, cars lazily drifting by as the street lights went off one by one, each one taking a bow as the morning sun took its rightful place on stage.

“Do you think he’ll be here today?” he asked barely above a whisper.

Imogen looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. “I’m beginning to think you’re the one that likes him. Careful, wouldn’t want people thinking you can catch feelings.” She held her nose as if the concept itself stunk before snickering to herself. 

Jaron snorted, looking back out towards the door, a slight tinge of red on his face. Sure, maybe he wanted to get to know the guy, but that was all it was. He let out a sigh, pushing himself up off the counter to flip the sign to Open. He wasn’t one to pine over someone, he thought to himself as he peeked his head out to look down the sidewalk. No sign of him–oh, no, he meant anyone yet, yeah.

He closed the door again, brushing off his hands before he cracked them in front of himself. “Time to get down to business,” Jaron said to no one in particular as he hopped the counter.

Just because he had noticed that Tobias had come in almost every day for the past two weeks since he started working these early shifts meant nothing. He had a unique look to him! Wiry and tall, with perceptively kind eyes, as if he could read someone like a book but without even a crease or dog-ear on the pages as he went through their life story. It seemed silly now, Jaron realized, comparing him to an old librarian type when Jaron was the one attempting to judge a book by a cover himself. 

But he just couldn’t help it! Tobias carried himself like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders–like if he stopped for one minute, it would all collapse in a messy heap at his feet. Jaron sighed, furrowing his brows as he leaned against the counter again. It wasn’t fair for a man to carry the world alone–what a lonely thing that was, the heaviness of a responsibility only one man knows. If only he could do something to help–then maybe Tobias’ face might not wrinkle up as much as it did in the few moments Jaron saw of him a day. Jaron stood back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh–maybe he’d get him that eclair for free today. Sure, it wasn’t much, but sometimes even little things could make a big deal, even if they seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

A nervous energy ate at him as he rocked back and forth on his heels. God, he hoped he came in today–maybe they could say more than just the usual pleasantries, maybe he could even get a how’s the weather out there started.

“So, you haven’t,” Amarinda said with a quirked grin pulling at her lips. She went to haul Tobias up to his feet while he struggled to keep his drink from spilling, his knees creaking beneath him. 

Tobias blinked to himself, shaking out his foot that had fallen asleep as he leaned against Amarinda. She stole a sip from his cup, puckering her lips suddenly. “It’s only cider–”

“Was it supposed to be hot?”

“Well, it–”

Roden took a sip of his. He pursed his lips, nodding to himself slowly. “I’d say it’s still hot.”

“Hot enough,” Tobias finished, tipping his hand from side to side. 

Amarinda looked between the two of them and then at Jaron who didn’t bother with the argument; he sat his cup on the table, pushing himself up to join Imogen. His eyes never left her. “Is this a new dress?” he asked.

Amarinda clapped her hands together, smiling at him and then at Imogen. “I told you he’d notice!”

Imogen ducked her head down, chuckling into her hand before she pulled her braid over her shoulder. She twirled with the end of it. “It–is. Amarinda said that maybe I should splurge given… who I’m with now.” She smiled gently at Jaron who took her hand in his. 

He looked her over appreciatively, grinning back at her. “Gotta say, Drylliad looks good on you. You should do it more often,” Jaron said, nudging her side playfully. “I’ll put it in as a necessary expense.”

And she could only laugh, hitting his arm lightly. “Oh, don’t do that, you already fight with the regents enough–and after everything…”

Jaron put his hand to her cheek, tilting his head. “Imogen, the kingdom will heal itself in time, a few fancy dresses here and there won’t hurt Carthya, no matter how silly it may seem. It gives the tailor something to do! That’s one person helped!” He grinned at her, running the fabric on her sleeve between his fingers. “Besides, the regents wouldn’t be caught dead in last week’s fashion, even if the dust is still settling–and I think if they have a problem with it, we can enact a silk tax. I think they’ll love it. I have been getting bored.” Jaron caught Roden’s eye as his general grimaced, pushing himself up from the floor.

“If I find another assassin in the castle, I’ll kill you myself and they can take notes on how it’s properly done,” Roden grunted out at him.

Jaron laughed. “Great! Professional on the job training! We’ll save the job market one assassin at a time, won’t we?”

Roden hit him with his shoulder as he passed. “If that’s what we’re calling it these days.”

Imogen grinned, stepping back with Amarinda as Jaron continued to poke at Roden. “Thank you, really,” she said, looking up at her.

“What for?” Amarinda asked after blinking out of her thoughts.

“For one, you’re not like…” Imogen trailed off, gesturing broadly as she watched the two boys rough house while Tobias tried in vain to pull them apart, claiming outrageous things like don’t put pressure on a broken leg and if you don’t rest, you can’t heal. Right, like that meant anything. Imogen snorted, biting her smile back.

Amarinda cocked her hip, crossing her arms with a chuckle. “I mean, I can certainly make an effort…” 

Imogen laughed, leaning into her. “I think it’s nice to have someone reasonable around here that’s our age.”

“You don’t want to gossip with Mott?”

Imogen raised an eyebrow. “Amarinda, you have not gossiped till you’ve gossiped with Mott–overhearing even a little bit of what he knows would have the saints in a tizzy.” 

“Is that so?”

“Trust me. At Farthenwood…” Imogen trailed off, shaking her head–letting nostalgia mask over the uglier parts of her time there. “Let’s just say you wanted to keep your name out of his mouth.”

Amarinda laughed. “Him? I’d never guess!”

“He had to know everything going on there, it only made sense.” Imogen chuckled, taking in a breath as Tobias finally got Roden and Jaron to sit down once more. “But… it really is–nice to have a friend here–someone who likes these…” she paused, pulling at the dress with a snort, ”girly things. I can’t exactly go to one of them.”

“I don’t know… Tobias has taken pretty well to the finer things,” Amarinda said cheekily.

Imogen laughed. “Okay, let me rephrase, someone who already knows what they’re talking about.”

Amarinda smiled at her, sighing. She nodded slowly. “Then I should thank you too–because it’s been nice to talk about petticoats, blouses, and even shoes again rather than… war strategies and the memories of those we’ve lost.” She took in a breath, her expression evening out as her thoughts drifted for a second time.

Imogen put her hand on her arm, smiling at her. “Then let’s indulge. Jaron’s right. We can’t live in mourning forever or be scared to enjoy the life we fought for.” She chuckled. “You live so long conserving and protecting what you have, too scared to ask for more, but it… it is necessary, isn’t it?”