Brew 17

Emery sat in front of the shop’s fireplace, the grimoire spread open across her lap, for what felt like the hundredth time, she flipped thought he pages, back and forth, searching. Desperate. There had to be something about the moment when her grandmother and Aria met.

But no matter how many times she checked – nothing.

“Not a single word," she groaned slamming her palm against the table. “No, no, no!”

“And why,” came Toriyami exasperate voice from his chair, putting the village newspaper he had been reading to the side, “are we throwing a tantrum this time?”

“Because grandmother met Aria,” Emery huffed., crossing her arms over her chest. “And yet grandfather wrote nothing about it.”

Growing curious himself, Toriyami walked over and picked up the grimoire. His sharp eyes skimmed the pages. He flipped forward, then back, searching for any hint, any overlooked note. But he found only the same gap Emery had.

“You’re right,” he admitted, frowning.

“I know I’m right,” Emery pouted, sinking into her chair like a sulking child.

Toriyami sighed and returned to his seat, rubbing his temples. “Sometimes I truly worry for you.” For a talented witch, his mistresses surely acted like a spoilt one. It must have been the Alderbranch blood in her veins.

He stared at the grimoire again. Why wouldn’t Blaise write about such an important moment? This wasn’t just personal—it would have been a pivotal event in his council career. An intersection of magical politics and personal lives. Wizards of the past, even the most secretive ones, had documented their failures as often as their triumphs. It was how they taught the next generation.

Then a thought struck him.

“What if he didn’t know?” Toriyami said suddenly.

Emery peeked out from behind the cushion she’d been hugging. “Huh?”

“Please,” he sighed, clearly getting annoyed, “I know this situation is draining, but work with me.” He motioned for her to sit up.

Grumbling, Emery set the cushion aside and perched on the edge of her chair. “Go on.”

“Maybe Blaise never wrote about what happened because he didn’t know what happened,” Toriyami reasoned. “He wasn’t there. Or he wasn’t told.”

Emery frowned, gears clearly turning in her head. “I… don’t hate that conclusion.” She glanced down at the grimoire again, tracing the edge of the page thoughtfully. “From what I’ve read, its clear grandfather loved Aria. Maybe even more than grandmother at first.”

“You don’t think he loved your grandmother?” Toriyami asked gently, surprised Emery would come to such a conclusion.

“I think…” Emery sighed. “I think he grew to love her. I’m not saying that’s bad. Just… different.”

Toriyami nodded. “I get it. You don’t have to explain.”

Emery smiled sadly and squeezed his hand where it rested on the armrest. “I’ve gone from calling my grandfather an idiot to feeling… sorry for him.”

Toriyami chuckled and picked up the grimoire. He flicked through the pages as if hoping something new would suddenly appear. “A wizard, a noble witch, and a hidden fae. Quite the love triangle. No wonder he got himself tied in knots. Sounds like someone else I know.”

Emery stuck out her tongue playfully while Toriyami continued to study the grimoire. She stood to clean up the last of the day’s dishes. As she passed the basket near the fireplace, her eyes softened. Unlike her grandmother’s famously powerful familiars, Emery’s was humble—a hedgehog named Chu.

She smiled, kneeling beside his basket. “Wake up soon,” she whispered, gently stroking his back. Now they were in spring, Emery hoped Chu would have come out of his hibernation by now. “I have so much to tell you.”

Chu rolled over in his sleep, his tiny legs twitching, belly exposed. Emery giggled softly, but her laughter caught halfway.

Her eyes widened. A familiar?

“That’s it!” she gasped, leaping to her feet. “Toriyami!”

“Yes?” he asked warily, not looking away from the grimoire.

“When’s the next full moon?” Emery asked excitedly, hoovering over the back of his chair.

Toriyami raised a brow, looking at the calendar., feeling skeptical of what Emery had planned. “In three days’, time. May I ask why?”

Emery helped onto the back of his chair, making it rock as she jumped for joy, practically vibrating with excitement. “I have to make a call. Mark the calendar—we’ll be expecting a very special visitor.”

She spun and dashed toward her study.

Toriyami sighed heavily. “I need a new job,” he muttered, flipping the grimoire closed.