Page 31 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

Nevan shot me another dimpled smile and then led us over to a little stand. I was thankful for the distraction as I fanned myself and hoped he hadn’t noticed how that moment between us affected me.

A short, plump woman placed her hands on the counter. She eyed me warily but smiled kindly at Nevan.

“We’ll take two ciders.” Nevan fished a few coins out of his pocket and dropped them onto the counter.

“Two?” the woman asked, gaze darting to me. “So the rumors are true, then?”

I detested gossip. Unfortunate since it seemed to spread so easily in Fairwitch Isle.

“Yes, for me and Enid.” Nevan put his arm around my shoulder, drawing me in casually. I tried not to stiffen, tried to act like this was all normal for me.

The woman’s eyes widened. “That’s new.”

“It is,” Nevan said, steady and calm, his head held high as he squeezed me into him.

“Okay, then.” She ladled a steaming hot drink into two tin cups, and the scent of spiced apples floated through the air. “You two enjoy.”

I lifted the cup and hesitated but took a sip, a moan escaping my mouth as the combination of sugar, apple, and cinnamon burst on my tongue. “That’s delicious.” I’d never tasted anything like it.

The woman’s face broke out into a full smile—directed at me.

“Thank you, Greta,” Nevan said, pulling me away and back into the street.

The steam from our drinks curled into the air.

“She smiled at me.” I chanced a glance back at Greta, but she was already serving another customer.

“That’s because you said something nice,” Nevan said.

I took another sip of the drink, wondering where this had been my entire life. Any time I’d visited the nearest town, I got in and out as fast as I could, never bothering to try any of the delicacies. Now I wondered what I’d been missing out on.

“You’ve never had apple cider?” Nevan asked.

I shook my head and took another sip, warmth spreading through me. It was early spring, a chill still in the air that the drink chased away.

“You know, I think I have a duty to give you a proper introduction to Fairwitch Isle. We have some of the best bakers, butchers, and restaurants on the continent.”

“And how do you figure that? I thought this place was invisible, that the residents here rarely leave to go anywhere else.”

“It’s true that I haven’t ever been anywhere else,” Nevan admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know quality when I see it. And we have quality here in Fairwitch.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll be the judge of that.”

“You’d never even tasted cider before. I don’t know if I can trust your judgment.”

“You’ve never been outside of Fairwitch. I think I’ll be a better judge than you.”

I left out the part where I was thousands of years older than Nevan, and therefore, I was almost certain I’d win a who was the best judge contest.

“You know what?” Nevan took another sip of his drink. “We’re going to have a taste-off.”

I frowned. “What in the world is a taste-off?”

“Something I just made up.”

The road split for the first time, the cobblestone part of it continuing to wind around the back side of the castle. Nevan led me toward the dirt road that cut through my bog, cottages dotting the land.

I lifted a brow. “And what does a taste-off entail?”