Page 11 of Ashes, Apples, & Amorous Orcs

The realization settles over me like cold water. Despite all my interest in Isolde, despite the pull I feel toward her quiet strength and gentle competence, I can never have her. Thornak spoke truth—village life is good for her. She deserves the warmth of community, the security of belonging somewhere people value her presence.

And I would want to take her away from all of that. Keep her for myself.

CHAPTER 7

ISOLDE

The hives hum with satisfied contentment, their earlier agitation replaced by the steady rhythm of productive work. My girls have finally accepted their new home, and the lavender samples I collected this morning confirm what my nose already told me—the honey will be exceptional. Rich, floral, with that distinctive sweetness that makes merchants willing to pay premium prices.

Time to secure my business.

The Guild Hall dominates the center of Harvest Hollow like an ancient oak among saplings. Stone foundation blocks rise to meet timber walls marked with carved insignias—hammer and anvil for the smiths, needle and thread for the tailors, wheat sheaf for the farmers. Each symbol tells the story of hands that built this town from wilderness, and the brass plates beneath them gleam with the patina of decades.

Exposed oak beams stretch across the building's face, their dark wood contrasting with cream-colored plaster between. Hanging lanterns cast warm pools of light even in daylight, and the heavy wooden door bears the guild's master seal—a circle containing all the trade symbols, unified under a single banner.

I pause before entering, smoothing my skirts and checking that my hair remains neatly pinned despite the morning's work with the bees. The embroidered vines along my cuffs catch the light, tiny flowers worked in golden thread that took me three evenings to complete. First impressions matter, especially when requesting permanent trade agreements.

The door opens with a satisfying weight, revealing an interior that speaks of quiet authority. Long tables stretch across the main floor, their surfaces scarred by years of guild meetings and trade negotiations. On either side, rows and rows of shelving full of records. The air carries the distinct scent of beeswax polish and old parchment, with undertones of pipe tobacco and leather.

At a small wooden desk near the far window sits Granda Oltar, his silver beard catching the afternoon light as he examines what appears to be one of Maddie's honey cakes. The pastry looks tiny in his weathered hands, golden crumbs scattered across the desk's surface beside an open ledger.

"Isolde Briar." His voice rumbles like distant thunder, deep-set eyes studying me with the weight of decades. "The beekeeper who's caused such a stir."

I approach his desk, noting how he moves with deliberate authority despite his age. His traditional dwarf garments bear subtle guild markings—a silver pin shaped like interlocked gears, embroidered trim that speaks of rank and responsibility.

"Granda Oltar." I incline my head respectfully. "Though I'm curious how you know my name. We haven't been introduced."

"Sunday post arrived this morning." He gestures toward a pile of letters on the corner of his desk. "Fascinating reading. Your arrival, your bees, your dramatic rescue from evil wolves." His mouth twitches beneath his beard. "Mrs. Penwhistle has quite the flair for storytelling, and I suppose The Whistle caught wind of it."

Heat climbs my neck. "I see gossip travels faster than seasonal trade routes."

"In a town this size, gossip is the primary form of entertainment." He takes another bite of honey cake, chewing thoughtfully. "Though I suspect your business here involves more than social calls."

"You're correct." I clasp my hands behind my back, straightening my shoulders. "I'd like to discuss permanent trade agreements with Harvest Hollow. Not just festival vending permits, but long-term contracts for honey supply."

Granda Oltar sets down his pastry and leans back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. His gaze sharpens, transforming from casual interest to professional assessment.

"Permanent arrangements require different considerations than seasonal permits." His fingers drum against the desk's surface. "Stability, reliability, community integration. Tell me, Miss Briar—what makes you believe Harvest Hollow needs a permanent honey supplier?"

I open my mouth to respond, but a different voice beats me to it.

"Harvest Hollow already has a honey supplier."

I turn to see the elven woman from Maddie's bakery striding toward us, her hips swaying with the kind of calculated confidence that comes from years of commanding attention. Vaelis. Her silver-blonde hair glows in the afternoon light streaming through the Guild Hall windows, and her structured burgundy dress whispers against itself with each step.

Granda Oltar nods slowly, his weathered fingers still drumming against the desk. "Miss Thandor speaks accurately. We maintain contracts with three regional suppliers currently."

"I already have an established relationship with Harvest Hollow through Maddie's bakery." I keep my voice level, though something about Vaelis's presence sets my teeth on edge. "My lavender honey has been featured in her pastries for several seasons."

Vaelis settles herself against the edge of a nearby table, her movements fluid and deliberate. "Exploiting family ties for business gain seems rather... opportunistic."

Heat flares in my chest. "I was born here in Harvest Hollow. I love this village as much as anyone else who lives here."

"How touching." Her smile carries all the warmth of winter frost.

I force myself to focus on Granda, whose deep-set eyes watch our exchange with the patience of someone who has witnessed decades of such territorial disputes. "I could be your sole supplier. You wouldn't need to coordinate with multiple vendors, manage different delivery schedules, or worry about quality inconsistencies."

"Traditional honey suppliers serve us well," Vaelis interjects, examining her perfectly manicured nails. "Not everyone wants those... silly flavor infusions."