The wine shopping fiasco had officially ended, and currently, Juli was elbow-deep in a paper cone of roasted chestnuts.
She cracked one between her teeth and flinched at the heat.
"Hot, hot, hot—"
"Open your mouth."
Juli's head recoiled, furrowing her eyebrow.
"Huh?"
"Open your mouth. I'll blow on it."
Juli stared at him like he had just proposed marriage.
"…What."
"Trust me, it works. Just open—"
"Elise."
"—your mouth, Juli. Or else your tongue will burn—"
"What do mean blow on it! Like it's a normal thing people do—"
'…Is it not?'
Eli paused and blinked.
Back in the hospital, when Eli was just a kid, Grandma Margaret used to do it for him every time the food was too hot. He was a reckless kid, so the food burned his tongue more often than not.
She'd lean across the tray, cup a hand under his little chin, and blow gently until it stopped steaming from his mouth. It had been such a normal, unremarkable thing that Eli hadn't thought about it in years.
'Huh. I guess that was her thing. Or maybe they don't do that here.'
He lowered his hand.
"…Never mind."
Juli's cheeks had gone pink, just like when he patted her head in front of the faculty building. She swallowed her chestnut with enormous difficulty.
"Never mind? No, no, I'm not letting this go. You just — you were going to—"
Eli shooed her away.
"I said never mind."
"Oh no, no, no, you don't get to—"
She pointed at him with a half-eaten chestnut, brandishing it like a sword.
"—get away with this. When did you start blowing in people's mouths, huh!? List all the names. Right now."
Eli obviously hadn't done that to anyone. The memory of Grandma Margaret had just popped up in his mind.
"Juli. Just eat your chestnuts."
She almost swung her arm and spilled all the chestnuts.
"I can't eat them now! You ruined them!"
"Don't be so dramatic. I didn't even touch it."
Juli huffed hard enough to blow her own bangs out of her face, then shoved another chestnut into her mouth with more savagery than it deserved.
They walked on through the crowded streets in a slightly awkward silence. Juli was chewing loudly, while Eli pretended not to notice that she was still pink around the ears.
A ribbon stall caught his eye halfway down the next block. It had a small wooden display with spools of color hanging from pegs, a dazzling showcase conspicuous enough to demand a second glance.
Eli saw a familiar image when he peered through stall drapes: an old woman knitted silently, living life at her own pace.
He slowed without thinking about it.
His gaze moved across the spools of red, blues, lavender, and locked in on an emerald green near the end of the row.
'…Oh. She'd look lovely in that.'
Eli pulled a length of the ribbon off and held it up against the back of her wrist.
Juli drifted up beside him, still chewing hot chestnuts.
"What'd you find?"
The steam tickled his ears when Juli spoke.
"Ribbon. I'm thinking of buying this for Irene."
Juli tilted her head to look at the color.
"I don't know anything about fashion sense… so can't help you with that."
"I know."
"You know?"
Juli brought up her chestnut-filled fist as a playful threat.
Eli ignored her. He pulled the spool free, went up to the old woman, and asked about the price. This time, he paid without a word of haggling. He had a conviction of not haggling grandmothers and grandfathers. That was his creed!
Juli bumped his shoulder with hers as he tucked the ribbon carefully into the inner fold of the wine cloth.
"I thought you'd scare the living daylights out of her! Thank goodness you still have some kindness."
"Not funny, Juli. I'd pay more if I could."
"Sureee."
Juli laughed, bright and unbothered, and fell back in beside him as they moved on.
Three stalls later, they stopped in front of a small clothing cart with a stack of felt hats piled on top. Juli bullied him into trying every design possible — wide brims, narrow brims, anything she could get her hands on.
That embarrassing wide-brimmed one that Eli tried made him look like a mushroom. He wanted to smash the bottle of wine onto Juli's empty head. He bet it even echoed once the glass struck.
Four stalls later, she bullied Eli, again, into trying a piece of candied apricot. Surprisingly, Elise didn't like sweet stuff, just like him. When his elderly friends offered candy and chocolate, he would flatly refuse every time.
Five stalls later, they shared a skewer of spiced lamb from a smoky little brazier set up in a side valley.
"Here."
"I have wine in my hands."
"I'm feeding you, dummy."
Eli hesitated for a half a second before leaning forward and took the bite she offered. The lamb was good — not his favorite, but it was properly seasoned and tender.
Juli watched him chew with an expression he couldn't quite read, but it felt similar to when they shared the bath…
'No, I'm just imagining things.'
By the time they came back out onto the main avenue, the amber light had turned gold at the rooftops. The shopkeepers along the street were lighting their evening lanterns one by one. A young bard with a lute was singing a slow melody, her voice blending in with the softening hum of the crowd. Somewhere overhead, a woman was calling her children home for supper.
'…Okay.'
Eli had been pacing around town for more than enough. He had let himself get carried away by the tranquility and excitement Florentine had to offer.
'Are you happy, Elise?'
He sighed, knowing there would be no answer. Every time he thought of Elise, an strange ache settled in his heart. If Eli had transmigrated into some bratty young master or a third-rate villain, he wouldn't have felt this deep, lingering guilt.
Elise was just a normal maid. No, a fiercely special one. Every diary log of hers showed determination, immense love, and a will to live for those she cared for.
Eli held up the wine package, the emerald green ribbon hanging out of the cloth, and stared at them for a moment. He remembered what his old billionaire friend, Grandpa Roy, used to say.
'Wine a little, laugh a lot.'
How he wished he could share a drink with Elise.
With another sigh, Eli quietly turned them off the main avenue and into a narrower side street.
The shops on this side street were older.
They passed a shuttered bookstore with its tabby asleep on the stoop, then a cobbler, and then, on the third door, he slowed.
It was a little shopfront, with a streaked window displaying an arrangement of grey lilies, dried lavender, and a single fresh rose at the center. The door was colored green, but the paint had faded into a darker moss color. Above it hung a small sign shaped like a lily, swinging gently from a rusted hook as the evening breeze ran through the narrow street.
Eli stopped in front of it, and Juli halted behind him.
"What kind of shop is this?"
He looked at the sign.
"A flower shop. At least, that part is real."
Juli stepped forward.
"What do you mean?"
Eli glanced over his shoulder, head on a swivel, scanning any possible suspicious movement.
"I need you to trust me. I'll tell you what I can when we're in the clear. For now, just come in with me, let me do the talking, and follow my lead."
Juli studied the side of his face for a long moment.
"Elise," she said, her voice low. "If it's something dangerous, you tell me now."
Eli shook his head.
"It shouldn't be. If anything, they've been waiting for us to drop by."
He paused.
"You're only here because I didn't want to come alone, so behave yourself."
Juli briefly went quiet, then exhaled.
"Alright."
Eli set his hand on the brass handle and pushed the door open. The bell above the door rang a single, tired chime as they stepped inside.