Page 44 of Ashes, Apples, & Amorous Orcs

The words hang between us like a trap I've walked into without seeing the snare.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I approach the hives, dreading what I might find. The bees should be settling for the night, but something feels wrong. The usual gentle hum that greets me sounds sluggish, disconnected.

I lift the outer cover of the affected hive with trembling fingers. The bees inside move with the drowsy confusion of creatures fighting off sleep. Not dead, thank the gods, but clearly compromised. They cluster together in loose formations instead of their usual precise patterns, wings fluttering weakly.

"They're drugged," I whisper, more to myself than to Liora. "Someone used smoke to sedate them while⁠—"

The acrid scent hits me then, lingering beneath the sweet honey smell. Smoke, but not the clean burn of my usual calming blend. This carries an edge of something harsher, more chemical. I follow the scent to my work area where my smoke canister sits exactly where I left it, but the metal still holds warmth.

"They used my own equipment." The words come out flat, drained of the anger I should feel. "While I was at the festival, someone came here and deliberately contaminated my stock."

Liora's face hardens as she examines the canister. "This is beyond petty gossip. This is sabotage."

I begin methodically separating the compromised jars from the untouched stock, my movements precise despite the tremor in my hands. Each ruined batch represents weeks of work, months of building relationships with my bees, seasons of perfecting the delicate balance that creates exceptional honey.

"You need to report this," Liora says, watching me work. "At least try to figure out who⁠—"

"No." I don't look up from my sorting. "It doesn't matter who did it."

"Izzy, someone deliberately tried to destroy your livelihood. That matters."

I set down a jar of ruined wildflower blend, finally meeting her concerned gaze. "What matters is that someone in this town felt comfortable enough to sneak onto my property and sabotage my work while I was defending a man who couldn't be bothered to choose me when it counted."

I won't sell compromised product, won't risk my reputation on honey that might harm someone. But I also won't stay in a place where I'm seen as enough of a threat to warrant this level of malice.

"I'm leaving anyway." I return to my sorting, each movement final. "I won't rebuild here under suspicion or instability. Some things can't be fixed."

Footsteps crunch on the dried grass behind us, heavy and familiar. Liora glances over my shoulder, then back at me with knowing eyes.

"Well," she says, standing and dusting off her skirts, "I think my work here is done. Those tinctures won't bottle themselves."

She squeezes my shoulder once before heading toward town, leaving me alone with the sound of approaching footsteps and the weight of everything I'm about to lose.

CHAPTER 28

DRAVEN

"Isolde." I take in the half-dismantled apiary, the open jars scattered across her work surface, the way she won't quite meet my eyes. "What's going on?"

Her hands pause in their methodical sorting, fingers tightening around a jar of honey that looks wrong somehow—cloudy where it should be clear. "I'm leaving."

The words hit like a physical blow, but I force myself to listen as she continues.

"Someone tampered with one of my hives. Contaminated several batches of honey." Her voice stays level, professional, but I catch the tremor beneath. "Drugged the bees while I was at the festival."

My jaw clenches. While she was defending me to a crowd that didn't deserve her protection, someone was here destroying her work. "Who⁠—"

"It doesn't matter." She sets the jar aside with careful precision. "It's not your problem anyway. Why are you here?"

The question cuts deeper than any blade I've faced in the wild. Because I've made it not my problem, haven't I? I've spent weeks treating her like a duty instead of a choice, an obligation instead of⁠—

"I'm here to apologize." The words scrape my throat raw. "I should have spoken up sooner. Should have made it clear that Vaelis was never an option, that you—" I stop, struggling with words that feel too small for what I need to say. "I should have chosen you from the beginning."

She glances up then, hazel eyes searching my face for something I hope I can give her. I move toward the hives without waiting for permission, checking the outer covers the way she taught me weeks ago. The bees inside move sluggishly, their usual precise formations disrupted.

"Draven." Her voice stops me mid-motion. "This cannot be another moment of intensity followed by absence. I won't survive that again."

The honesty in her words cuts through every excuse I've built, every justification for the distance I've maintained. I straighten, meeting her gaze directly.