~Aria's POV
I shifted slightly on the wooden stool behind the counter, tucking my hands in my lap. "Do you… Mind if I stay here for a while?" I asked, my voice hesitant. "Before I head back to the hotel?"
Karina's lips curved in that easy smile of hers. "It's fine," she said. "Stay as long as you like. I'll be here."
I exhaled, a quiet relief washing over me, and settled into the stool, letting my eyes wander around the shop. It was cozy, small, but layered with life. Jars lined the shelves, each labeled in neat, looping script. Dried herbs hung in little bundles from the ceiling. The faint scent of chamomile, lavender, and something earthier, perhaps sage, filled the space. Sunlight filtered through the front windows, casting warm patterns on the floorboards.
Soon, the bell above the door jingled, and the shop came alive.
A mother came in, holding the hand of a restless child. Karina crouched slightly, her voice soft and melodic, speaking directly to the little one as she gestured to different jars. "This will help your cough, sweet pea. Not too much, just a pinch each day." The child's eyes widened, and a small smile appeared, melting the mother's tension.
Then a heavily pregnant woman stepped in, wincing slightly. Karina moved with gentle attentiveness, asking questions, bending down to feel her pulse, and suggesting blends of calming teas and herbs to help with the nausea.
I watched, fascinated, how she related to each person, not just as a seller, but as if she understood their worries, their fears. Her voice was calm, her hands steady, her presence reassuring. I realized quickly that this wasn't just about herbs, it was about care, connection.
"Could you… Maybe help me with this one?" Karina said suddenly, passing me a small bundle of dried leaves.
I blinked. "Me?"
"Yes, you. Someone's getting a little pushy with their order."
I stiffened, then stepped forward as a man tried to grab herbs from the counter faster than necessary. Karina's hands rested lightly on my shoulder. "Easy. Calm."
I followed her hands closely, trying to memorize every motion. She moved with a fluid confidence, measuring herbs with delicate precision, her fingers brushing each leaf as if she could coax its essence out with a gentle touch. The shop smelled of earth, flowers, and smoke, faint and grounding, and I felt my tension loosen just a fraction as I pressed chamomile into a small jar.
"Careful, Aria," Karina murmured, leaning over my shoulder. "Not too hard. You want the aroma to stay, not fly away."
I tried again, softer this time, my fingers trembling as I molded the herbs into a compact bundle. The faint scent rose into the air, sweet and calming, and I couldn't help inhaling, letting the aroma fill the little space around me.
She chuckled softly, her gaze flicking to mine with a teasing glint. "Not bad for a first try." she said.
I flushed, not sure whether it was pride or embarrassment,or both.
"Are you sure you've done this before?" she asked suddenly, tilting her head, one eyebrow arched.
I shook my head, swallowing nervously. "No… first time, actually."
Her laugh was light, musical, like the sound of wind through the trees outside. "I thought so," she said, eyes sparkling. "You're stiff, but promising. I like promising."
Minutes slipped by as the rhythm of the shop settled over us. Customers came and went, their needs shifting from herbal teas for colds to soothing tinctures for upset stomachs. I measured teas, carefully weighed the powdered herbs, and handed over packets. My hands grew steadier with each transaction, my movements more confident, though I still felt the slight edge of anxiety that lingered whenever I made a small mistake.
Karina hovered beside me, correcting the smallest missteps with patience. "Chamomile," she said softly, "needs a gentle touch. Don't crush it like you're angry at it. Let it relax in your hand, coax it into the jar."
I nodded, repeating her motion with exaggerated care, pressing the herb slowly, letting its faint scent curl into my fingers. I could feel my shoulders relaxing with every measured step.
"Good. See?" Karina said, patting my hand lightly. "Coughing blends take finesse, but you're catching on. Don't worry… I tease because it's part of learning."
I smiled nervously, inhaling again, savoring the scent, feeling a little pride creep into my chest.
"Okay," she said suddenly, stepping back to examine my technique. "Now tell me, Aria… is this really your first time brewing? Because honestly, you're taking to it like a natural."
I laughed softly, shrugging. "First time for real. I read about it, but… this is my first actual time doing it with real herbs."
Her eyes sparkled, and she leaned closer, lowering her voice just slightly. "See, that's what I love. New people, new energy. You're nervous, yes, but there's fire too. I can see it."
I swallowed, unsure whether to feel flattered or self-conscious, but the warmth in her tone made me relax. It settled somewhere in my chest, like a hand pressed there gently, telling me to breathe. I glanced around, really looked this time, taking in how she moved through her space. It wasn't hurried, wasn't stiff. It flowed. Like the shop was an extension of her body, and she knew every corner of it by instinct.
She didn't just sell herbs. She read people.
A tired mother came in, a child clinging to her wrapper, eyes dull with fever. Karina crouched slightly to meet the woman's gaze, asked questions softly, and nodded as if she already understood. Another pregnant woman followed not long after, one hand on her back, the other gripping the counter. Karina didn't rush her either. She guided her to a stool, pressed a glass of water into her hand, and spoke low and reassuringly. I watched quietly, struck by how natural it all felt to her. No performance but just care.
It made the room feel… held. Like nothing bad could happen here. Or at least, nothing would be ignored.
Then a man stepped forward too fast, his presence sharp and impatient. He leaned into the counter, voice rising. My body reacted before my mind did. I froze.
But Karina's hand landed on my shoulder, firm and grounding.
"You've got this," she murmured, like it was obvious.
I swallowed again and copied her tone when I spoke. Calm. Low. Not apologetic, but not confrontational either. I asked him to step back, just a little. Gave him space without giving in.
He hesitated. Looked at me. Then nodded.
When he moved away, my heart was racing, but I didn't let it show.
Karina laughed quietly, pride bright in her eyes. "See?" she said. "Told you. You might survive this shop. Maybe even thrive."
I chuckled, feeling the corners of my mouth lift genuinely for the first time in days. She handed me another small jar to prepare, teasing, "Don't tell me this is overwhelming. You can handle it, right?"
"Yes," I said, a small smile breaking through, "I think I can."
"Good," she said softly, brushing a strand of fiery red hair behind her ear. "Because the shop waits for no one, but you… You're doing fine. And hey, anyone who survives their first blend without burning it deserves a little pride."
I laughed, inhaling the sweet, earthy aroma of the herb in my hands
I smiled, warmth spreading through me, not just from the tea or the quiet of the shop, but from the patience and easy guidance Karina offered.