Chapter 233 — The Visit That Is Only His

Ren reached Hearthfang shortly after midday with his travel bag over one shoulder and dust along the hem of his outer wrap.

At the trade shelter, a younger merchant asked Ren when the next river goods would arrive. Ren confirmed that his workers had the receiving arrangements. He could have stayed to look over the newest tallies. Instead, he left the shelter with his accounts in his workers’ hands and took the familiar upper path.

At Kael’s residence, the door was open to the afternoon air. Nia stood at the counter, her curls tied away from her neck and her rabbit ears uncovered. Cooked stone grain filled the shallow bowl in front of her, and a pale streak of grain clung to her wrist. Shen was rinsing a board at the basin.

Ren called her name.

She turned, saw him, and left the spoon where it was.

“Ren! You’re back.”

He only had time to set his bag down before she reached him. Her arms went around his shoulders, and he caught her at the waist. She kissed him with such immediate pleasure that his tail gave a sharp movement behind him.

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” she said when they parted.

“Neither did I until this morning. We finished the last account sooner than expected.” He brushed his thumb along her waist. “I thought I’d come before something else found a use for my afternoon.”

“You could have sent word.”

“I could have. I wasn't certain I'd reach you before the message did.”

Nia touched the hair lying against his cheek, smoothing it back, and kissed him again.

Shen approached with a cloth over his arm. “You left the eastern work in good hands, I hope.”

“I did. Soren would send me straight back if I tried to count everything twice.” Ren looked toward the counter. “And what have I interrupted?”

“Nia’s second attempt at a grain cake,” Shen said. “The first one cooked unevenly.”

“It was edible,” Nia protested, catching Ren’s hand. “Come see. Have you eaten?”

“At the lower crossing. One of my men complained that his grain cake was too hard, then ate three of them.”

“I’m trying to avoid that exact problem.”

Shen moved Ren’s bag to the entry bench, keeping it with his traveling things. Nia pulled Ren toward the kitchen.

Her first cake lay on a plate, brown at the edges but visibly thicker in the middle. She broke off a corner to show him its soft center.

“I used the grain left from breakfast. I pressed it too thick and the underside browned before the inside settled. I want this one flatter.”

“He's keeping notes on your methods now?” Ren asked, noticing the small marked scrap beside Shen’s preparation things.

“He’s been doing that for ages. If something changes, he usually remembers which part he changed.”

“I should have guessed. He used to remember what I paid for a herb packet three seasons after I’d forgotten buying it.”

Shen looked over his shoulder. “It was mountain bitterroot. You argued with the seller for nearly half the morning.”

“The roots were good quality,” Ren said. “But he wanted the price of a much larger bundle. I remember you telling me afterward that I could have bought a year's supply of ordinary bitterroot for what he first asked.”

“And you returned the next season to buy from him again.”

“He had better prices by then.”

Nia smiled as she eased the thinner cake into the pan. The edges set without going dark. She turned it once, then divided it after it cooled enough to handle.

Ren tasted a piece while she watched his face.

“It holds together better,” he said. “The grain is mild. I’d eat it with something sour.”

“I used tart fruit mash with the browned cakes before. I was thinking of keeping it separate this time, so people could add as much as they wanted.”

“Then I would take a little with each bite. This doesn’t need much.” He reached for another piece, dipping it into the small bowl of tart mash she brought from the shelf. “That’s better for me.”

Nia tasted the combination and set aside a portion for Shen. Ren ate another piece without waiting for her to ask whether he liked it.

Ren rinsed the original grain-mixing bowl as Nia gathered the remaining crumbs from the preparation board. When she asked about the disputed supplier count, his tone changed.

“Soren is comparing the receiving marks with the seller’s record. We haven’t found the difference yet, and I won't settle it until we do.”

“Will he finish before your next trip?”

“He should. If the marks still disagree, we’ll check the original loading count. I’d rather spend another morning on it than make a man pay for goods he actually delivered.”

Nia handed him the dry cloth. “Then I hope the records agree.”

“So do I.” He wiped the bowl and put it away where she showed him.

Shen was busy portioning medicine ingredients, so when Nia suggested taking a walk, he gave her a light outer wrap and checked the fastening at her shoulder. She kissed him, then took Ren's hand as they left.

Warm air lay over the upper passage, although the mountain still shaded the lower turns. A pair of workers carried a wooden frame toward the repairs room. Farther down, a woman was overseeing two men who were trying to move a heavy basket through a narrow storage entrance. She made them set it down and turn it sideways before they struck the frame against the stone again.

Ren waited with Nia until they passed.

They kept walking. Nia told him that Mari's wider red strips no longer slipped so readily through the drying weave, though the workers still needed to compare how evenly they dried. Ren listened, then asked whether they had changed the frame supports as well. She described the damp patch Shen had noticed underneath one screen.

“Someone asked when you were coming back,” she added. “He wanted news about the eastern crossing.”

“I hope he found the trade shelter. Anyone there could have told him more than I could while I was still on the road.”

“I told him I didn't know when you’d return. I was glad to be wrong about how long it would take.”

Ren looked at her and smiled. She kept hold of his hand as they went downhill.

Outside a workroom, a woman sorting dried fruit hailed Nia. She wanted to know whether the softer portion of her last batch had kept its flavor.

“It did,” Nia answered. “The pieces that stayed a little pliable were my favorites.”

“Then I’ll take half down early again. My husband can dry the rest as long as he likes.”

Nia laughed and promised to tell her how the next batch tasted. Ren waited beside her, listening as the woman called to someone inside for another empty basket.

“You know more people each time I visit,” he said as they continued.

“Ayari introduced me to several of them. The markets helped too. I don’t get turned around on these paths nearly as often now.”

“I remember walking you through this section the first time.”

“You were very pleased with how much you knew.”

“I knew where I was going. That counted for something.”

“It still does.” She nudged his arm lightly. “I like walking with you even when I know the way.”

Ren brought her hand closer and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

At the shaded resting ledge, a few households were gathered farther along. Nia chose an open place where the stone had warmed in the afternoon. They sat together while a man passed with a sleeping child on his shoulder and two relatives carrying baskets behind him. The child stirred when someone called from the path, then settled again against the man's neck.

Nia leaned into Ren's side. “You’ve been traveling for days. Are you tired?”

“Some. I’m glad to have somewhere quiet to sit with you.” He stretched his legs, working the stiffness out of one ankle. “The road was kind enough, but the benches at the last meeting ground weren't.”

“Your lodging wasn't any better?”

“The bed was fine. The bench belonged to a seller who insisted everyone sit while discussing prices. It leaned toward the wall, and he wouldn't admit it.”

Nia chuckled, then reached up to move a strand of reddish hair from his cheek.

“I missed you.”

Ren's hand covered hers. “I thought about you on the road. There was a woman selling painted cups at the last meeting ground. I nearly bought one for you. She had a whole table covered in them, with different patterns around the rims.”

“I would have liked seeing them.”

“I thought so. There was a pale blue one with little white flowers. The painting was lovely, but the handle was narrow where it joined the cup. It pulled uncomfortably against my fingers when I lifted it.”

Nia smiled. “You tested the handle?”

“I thought you'd want to use it, not just look at it. I found another with a better grip, but the pattern wasn't as nice.”

“I probably would have spent just as long deciding between them.” She traced a fingertip along the seam of his sleeve. “You'll have to show me the seller's table if we go there together.”

“I would enjoy that.”

She leaned in to kiss him. He drew her closer along the ledge, returning the kiss slowly. When they parted, she stayed facing him, her fingertips resting against his cheek.

“You're different when you're working,” she said. “I used to wonder whether you were teasing me even when you sounded serious. I don't have to guess as much now.”

Ren traced a finger over the back of her hand. “Do I make that difficult for you?”

“Sometimes. But I've gotten to know you better, and I like that. I can see when something matters to you, even if you haven't told me much about it yet.”

“Then ask me when you're unsure.” He looked at her a little longer. “I'd rather you ask than decide I've said something I didn't mean.”

“I can do that.”

Nia settled against his shoulder again. By the time they left the ledge, the shadow from the upper wall had reached the opposite side of the path.

Kael was home when they returned. He stood beside the main table, examining a length of damaged binding cord. Shen had set a fresh coil nearby.

Nia went to him first. Kael put the cord down when she approached, and she kissed him, resting her hand briefly against his chest. He kept one hand at her back while she asked whether the western crew had finished its repairs.

“The binding is sound now. This piece came from the part that split.” He showed her the frayed section and let her test it between her fingers.

Ren greeted him after Nia stepped aside. Kael asked whether his eastern workers were settled, and Ren confirmed that they had tomorrow's receiving instructions. The men spoke briefly before Kael returned the worn cord to the table.

In the kitchen, Shen had started supper: savory watergrain with browned bird and garlic. The redneedle was kept separately so each person could decide how much heat to add. Nia helped carry the food to the table while Ren collected the bowls.

Kael took the stronger portion. Shen chose his mild and added a little sweet finishing ingredient to it. Ren tasted the grain before requesting more browned bird, and Nia served herself from the shared pan.

Kael had eaten this combination often enough that she already knew how much redneedle he liked. Tonight he stirred the darker seasoning into the grain and reached for a second piece of bird before she had finished her first bowl.

“You've asked for this almost every time we've had the ingredients lately,” she said.

Kael glanced up. “I like it.”

“More than the other dishes?”

He considered while he chewed. “It's my favorite.”

Nia smiled. “I thought so. I wanted to hear you say it.”

Shen offered her another piece of bird, which she accepted. Ren asked about the greens, and Shen told him the latest bunch came from the lower garden, where the tender leaves were ready sooner than expected.

Ren tried a few leaves from the shared bowl. “Those would travel well if they were dried properly, though I don't expect the cooked version would survive a cart.”

“The raw greens are easy to find here,” Shen said. “There's little reason to carry the cooked ones.”

“Fair enough. I’m enjoying them here.” Ren helped himself to another spoonful.

Kael told them about a worker who had accused three others of borrowing a missing tool, only to find it beneath his own supplies. Two had lost time searching for it.

“Did he apologize?” Nia asked.

“He did. He's helping them finish their work tomorrow.”

Shen asked what sort of tool had been lost, and Kael described the narrow metal edge used to trim the binding stakes. Ren recognized the type; a maker at the eastern crossing had recently begun forging a version with a broader grip. Kael was interested enough to ask how it handled wet wood, and Ren admitted he had not tested it himself. Their talk shifted to the practical trouble of getting a good edge through spring-softened materials, while Nia and Shen divided the last vegetables.

After supper, Ren carried the dishes to the basin. Nia dried while he washed, with Kael taking the heavier serving vessel and Shen putting away the remaining food. Ren paused over a bowl whose underside had developed a fine rough patch.

“Has this been catching on the shelf?” he asked.

“Only when the bowls are stacked too tightly,” Nia said. “I'll leave it on top for now.”

He passed it to her, and she placed it separately before taking the next dish. They finished without hurrying, listening to Kael and Shen discuss where to store the repaired cord.

When the last bowl was dry, Ren retrieved his travel bag from the entry bench.

“Are you leaving already?” Nia asked.

“I have a place at the trade shelter tonight. One of my workers is meeting me in the morning before we divide the next goods.”

“You're staying in Hearthfang?”

“For tonight. I can come back after the morning work, if you'd like.”

“I would.”

He set the bag down when she stepped closer.

Nia slipped her arms around him and kissed him, lingering after his mouth left hers. He held her at the waist while she straightened the fold of his tunic caught beneath the travel strap.

“Next time you come, I'll try the grain cakes with a different topping,” she said. “You can tell me which version you prefer.”

“I'm willing to test them. Though if you keep improving the cakes, I may arrive expecting a full plate.”

“You already do that whenever you visit.”

Ren smiled and brushed his thumb over her waist. She smoothed the last fold from his collar.

“I liked having you here.”

“I liked being here, Nia.”

He kissed her again before retrieving his bag. At the doorway, she kept his hand in hers until he stepped into the corridor.

Ren looked back from the turn and lifted two fingers in farewell.

Nia returned the familiar gesture, smiling as he disappeared down the passage.