Page 223 of A Taste of Vanilla

“Why?”

My brain stalls, the question unexpected.

I look down. “The region floods in the spring,” I say slowly. “The river overflows because the mountain snow melts too fast, so older trade routes move inland. There are raised markers here.” I point to tiny dots along the road. “Those are old stone posts from the first kingdom. Most carts follow them unless they’re smuggling.”

Warren is quiet. Then, he nods. “That makes sense.”

The words take a moment to process in my brain.

That makes sense.

Marley’s gaze flicks between us. Oliver leans back, biting his lip.

“Hot,” Dev whispers, and Lisa kicks him under the table.

I clear my throat. “Right. Roads. Flood roads. Extremely practical.”

Warren points to the mountain range. “The Widow’s Teeth.”

My face warms. “Yes.”

“Why are they shaped like that?”

“Because I was dramatic when I was twenty-three.”

“No.” His brow lowers slightly. “I mean geologically.”

“Geologically.”

“Yes.”

“Warren.”

“You drew the range in sharp alternating ridges. That usually means tectonic compression or a broken volcanic chain, but the river flow suggests snowpack, not volcanic drainage.”

Marley rolls her eyes. “Oh my god.”

Lisa smiles into her drink.

I stare at Warren, because there is no universe in which Warren King just asked me about the tectonic plausibility of my fantasy mountain range and I’m expected to remain completely normal about it.

“I change my mind,” Oliver chuckles. “I think he fits right in with nerd church.”

“You had doubts?” Marley asks, surprised.

“I thought his personality was bread.”

“I…” I look down at the map. “They used to be taller.”

“Used to be?” His head tilts slightly.

“In the lore. The mountains were part of the old border between the northern giants and the southern kingdom. There was a magical war. Half the peaks collapsed. So now they’re jagged, unstable, and full of caves.” I point to a narrow pass. “That’s why trade caravans avoid this route in winter, even though it’s shorter. Too many rockslides.”

He studies it. “Good.”

I blink. “Good?”

“Yes.”