Violet Thistlewaite Is Not a Villain Anymore by Emily Krempholtz - 40

When Nathaniel woke, Violet was gone. He panicked only briefly before he registered that Daisy had disappeared from the foot of the bed as well. Moments later, the bedroom door opened, and there they both were, a tray of pastries and a steaming teapot in Violet’s hands.

“I should be bringing you breakfast,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his hold around the sudden armful of dog that threw herself onto the bed. “You’re the one who brought down a whole castle. You need more time to recover.”

“It’s been two days, you big worrier. I’m fine, I promise. And besides, we need to get back to real life eventually.”

“Can’t say I see much wrong with spending the rest of my days in bed with you.” He was delighted as ever to watch her blush.

“Flatterer.” She stuck her tongue out at him and settled her focus on the puppy. “Off the bed, Daisy. These aren’t for you.”

Nathaniel sat up and moved his legs to make room for the tray and Daisy, who did not appear interested in going anywhere, and took a scone from the plate. It was one of Guy’s, obviously, for no one else in town used flavor combinations like he did, and peach and basil was one of Nathaniel’s favorites.

“Where did he get the peaches?” Nathaniel wondered through a mouthful of pastry. “They’re not in season for months yet.”

Violet sat next to him, toying with his free hand. “I wanted to talk to you about that actually.”

He turned to her sharply. “You?”

“Me.” She laughed sheepishly. “You’re the one who put the idea in my head, all the way back to that mugwort and the vegetable garden. I knew that my plants were edible and wouldn’t hurt anyone, but I wanted to see how they’d hold up for cooking and baking. Guy has been more than happy to help. Didn’t you wonder how we’ve all been eating strawberry rhubarb and pomegranate and lemon pastries for the past several weeks? None of it is in season! Most of it doesn’t even grow here!”

“I was distracted by the blight,” he said sheepishly. “I never thought twice about it.”

“We’re still learning what does and doesn’t work, but if I grow the fruit from seed, like we figured out that night in the greenhouse”—he grinned as he recalled everything about that night, and she scrunched her nose at him—“then they do provide nutrition like real food.”

“Violet, that’s incredible.” Nathaniel’s mind was whirring. “Think of all the people you can help with that skill!”

“I’m going to the Feldspars this afternoon to ask if I can help regrow their crop. It’s the least I can do. And I was thinking of going back to Silbourne and some of the other places I’ve hurt.” She choked on her words. “I don’t want them to know who I am, but I can try and help them rebuild. I could go in the night and help their crops along, you know? Get a few saplings to fruit-bearing age in the blink of an eye.” Violet’s smile turned nervous. “But I’d like to start with you, if it’s all the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“Get dressed and come with me to the greenhouse? I have something to show you.”

Nathaniel all but tripped over himself as he threw on his clothes and poured himself a cup of tea to take with him downstairs. She laughed at him the whole time—until he kissed her to shut her up.

That worked quite well too, though it did delay them somewhat.

By the time they finally made it down to the greenhouse, the tea had gone cold and Nathaniel’s fresh shirt was irredeemably rumpled, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

“Now what is it?” he asked, looking around as though she might have left him a surprise wrapped in colorful paper and tied with a ribbon. But there was nothing except a pile of fresh-cut sage on her worktable.

“I’ve been doing some more thinking about my magic,” said Violet.

“Have you?” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

“I can pull energy from plants, but if I take it all, then it causes the blight. So I started thinking, what if I intentionally took only a little from a plant? Just enough to…” She reached for the sage and held it tightly in her fist, then closed her eyes. Nathaniel watched as every part of her seemed to come to life, her hair growing lustrous, her cheeks rosy. Magic suited her, as did the bouquet of purple flowers she’d grown from thin air.

“Beautiful,” he said, but she only laughed at him.

“Don’t you see?” she asked, and held up her other hand. The sage had dried up, looking exactly like the bundles he had wrapped and hung from the rafters to eventually use in the apothecary. “Nathaniel, I can help you restock the apothecary. If you can get me live plants, I can dry them for you in an instant, without any of the waiting. Teas, medicines, even ingredients for your alchemical products, as long as they’re plant-based. And if you get me some seeds, I can grow them for you on the spot. And I can use the excess magic I pull from the plants to grow more plants.”

Understanding wove its threads through him. Seeds were much cheaper and easier to procure for most of his ingredients than the entire plant. Growing them was the costly part, for it required so much time, space, and effort.

“If you could help me keep my shelves stocked…”

“Then the money you’re saving on supply would cover the gap in your bank payments, wouldn’t it?” Too casually, she added, “Plus what you’ll make from the increase in my rent.”

It took him a moment to catch her meaning. “Violet, no. You’re already doing more than enough. I don’t want your charity.”

“It’s not charity,” she said firmly. “I’m not going to let you lose the shop when I have more than enough money—taken from the estate of an evil sorcerer who certainly did not gain it lawfully himself, I might add — to help you.”

He prickled with the uncomfortable sense that he was being managed—but no, he corrected. He was being cared for. There was a difference.

Nathaniel Marsh had made a lot of mistakes in his life, but what he had come to realize recently was that good things lay buried beneath the wreckage, and being scared shouldn’t stop him from digging for them anyway. He could grow, he could change. He could learn to accept help when it was offered. Nathaniel was already so different from the man he had been when he and Violet met, and he was beginning to look forward to who he could become. Someone unknown, yes, and perhaps that was frightening, but with the right people beside him, Nathaniel knew he could find it in himself to be excited about change rather than afraid of losing what he once had.

After all, love had nothing to do with holding on tight for fear of letting it escape. Love needed space to grow, to put down roots, to blossom. He was finally giving himself that space, and it was due, in large part, to the witch who had captivated his thoughts and his heart.

“Besides,” Violet cajoled, “once you’re out of this hole, you can hire someone to help you in the shop and won’t need to rely on Pru so much.”

This, more than anything else, decided the matter. “She could finally travel.”

“And you could focus on your alchemy.”

Nathaniel weighed the image Violet painted against the one he wanted for himself and found that the scales balanced almost perfectly.

“On one condition,” he said. “Instead of rent, you let me sell your half of the building to you.”

That caught her by surprise, he could tell.

“You said you moved here because you wanted something of your own. Well, here it is, if you want it.”

For a moment he thought she’d say no. Maybe Rough Around the Hedges wasn’t what she wanted for the rest of her life. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe she had plans to leave someday or—

“Is the greenhouse part of the deal?”

Hope bubbled in his chest like a cauldron about to boil over. “Of course not,” he said sternly. “This is my workspace , madam. I have delicate experiments in here that aren’t to be disturbed.”

She stepped closer, nudging him playfully. “Well, this is a greenhouse and I am a florist, you know. I’m afraid I must insist. Besides, the advertisement did promise it to me…”

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes and huffed as he pretended to consider. “Well, I suppose you could have half.”

“Half?!” Violet gasped, taking another step until their chests pressed together. “You mean I’d have to share? With whom?”

“A rather grouchy alchemist, I’m afraid. He’ll decide to dislike you from the moment he lays eyes on you, but that’s only because he’s a stubborn fool.” Nathaniel hid his smile, but she saw it anyway.

Violet looked him up and down like she was sizing him up. “Do you think I could win him over if I tried?”

Nathaniel wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Violet, he’s already yours.”

She tipped up her chin until her mouth was a breath away from his. “That’s awfully convenient,” she said with a smile he would remember for the rest of his life. “Because he’s stuck with me for good. I accept your offer, Mr. Marsh.”

And she sealed it with a kiss.

So this was what bone-deep contentment felt like, Nathaniel marveled. This was what it felt like to be so in love that all his little anxieties sank into the ground like summer rain. He wanted to bottle this feeling and sell it in the apothecary—no, he wanted to hoard every vial for himself so he could open them whenever he wanted to remember.

Or perhaps that wasn’t right either. Perhaps Nathaniel’s happiness lay in the knowledge that rooted deep in his heart: that it didn’t need to be preserved at all, and he could feel this way forever, whenever he wanted, because that was what it meant to be with the person he loved.

“Dragon’s Rest will be all the better for having you as a permanent fixture,” he declared. “You’ve helped this town bloom into life again, Violet.” His hand crept to her neck, his thumb tracing her jaw. “You’ve certainly helped me see that there’s more to life than just surviving it.”

She clasped his hand beneath her own, holding it to her as she looked up at him with shining eyes. “You’ve taught me that too,” she said. “I want to be more than I was.”

“And you will be.”

He could practically see that weight disappear from her. It wouldn’t be gone forever, he knew. She would feel the burden of her past as surely as he did his, but they would carry it together.

“I love you,” she sighed, and pressed up onto her toes to kiss him.

Nathaniel’s heart soared. “I love you too, Violet Thistlewaite.”

“Thorns and all?”

When he kissed her again, he never wanted to stop. “Thorns and all.”