Page 45 of Under the Lion Star

“Gods willing, it will be soon.”

“Atlas,” I chided.

“Either way,” he waved me off. “I’ll get this guy out of the castle.”

With far less caution than one should have, Atlas hefted the crate under his arm.

“Where are you going to put it?”

“Out in the fields,” he smiled. “Same place I hid those bodies for you. Now that I know the mysterious Z is my– is Zialda, I should probably thank you for killing them.”

“They were scum,” I scowled.

“You’ll hear no admonishments from me!” He called as he exited my bedroom.

I smirked and sat in the armchair to finish lacing my boots, but not before checking under the cushion to ensure there were no further surprises of the reptilian variety. A quiet laugh escaped as I imagined how much harder it would be to sell my plan if I had to warn my future wife that she might sometimes discover snakes in our bed.

Chapter 13

Zialda

The aroma of specific potions had always appealed to me. Leaning over the pot, I let the steam fill my lungs, inhaling the hints of lavender and citrus. The thick, creamy liquid bubbled inside the cauldron, each pop releasing more of the intoxicating scent.

“You’re going to give yourself a headache,” Nima chided, nudging me with her hip and shooing me away.

She stripped the leaves from the stalks in her hands, sprinkling them into the solution until it reached a roaring boil. Aunt Stella peered over our shoulders, eyeballing the concoction before giving us both an approving nod.

My gaze followed her, catching on Marcy, who froze with her hand outstretched over a basket of cookies that Grandma had left with us earlier. My cousin smiled sheepishly, pulling her hand back to her lap and easing back onto the chair she was kneeling on. Her eyes darted between her mother and me, but I stifled the laugh.

“She’s as bad as Mera at that age,” my aunt muttered.

Nima and I chuckled knowingly. Neither of us had been much better in our younger years. For better or worse, food was how my family displayed affection, and I, for one, thought it was great.

Finding a freshly laundered rag, I cleaned and lined up the glass containers along the countertop next to where Nima worked. Aunt Stella kept a crate of corks beside the door, but none had been separated by size, so I did my best to eyeball which ones would work for the potions we were creating that afternoon.

All of our movements were familiar, learned from years of working together. It was a typical weekend for Nima and me. Without a word, Aunt Stella set a funnel next to my carefully arranged vials and corks while Nima put the final flourishes on the potion.

I hadn’t seen Leor since the ball, where I did my best to help him communicate with the guests like an ordinary elf. He had failed spectacularly.

Should I have felt elation over the fact that I seemed to be one of the few people he spoke to with more than grunts and one-word replies? Probably not, but I did all the same. After all, it was further evidence of our friendship, which was a bright spot in my life despite the hiccup of him hiding his role as king.

The thought of whomever he chose as his wife feeling threatened by my presence made my stomach flip. I wouldn’t necessarily blame her, but I rather liked Leor and would hate to lose his companionship because of someone else’s jealousy. I just hoped that whoever he married, he would learn to open up to.

Nima had been bewildered to learn that El was actually our new king, and Grandma’s immediate reaction was to offer herself up as a potential wife. Aunt Stella laughed so hard that she cried, something about how only I could find myself in such a situation.

“Knock, knock,” a voice called through the doorway as it opened.

Pullam let himself inside, stopping first to hug Marcy before pulling Nima into his arms. My sister’s partner had studied with her at university, although while she had devoted herself to herbal medicine, Pullam focused on bookkeeping. They made a good team, and I knew that as soon as Nima was ready to open her apothecary shop, Pullam would ensure she couldn’t fail.

“How’s it going, Alda?” He asked, grabbing a cookie from the basket Marcy had been trying to pillage earlier.

“All good here,” I wiped my hands on my pant leg and secured the last few corks into the containers that Nima had filled. “Just got to load these up, and we’re good to go. Thanks again for playing escort.”

“Always,” Pullam smiled.

He was objectively handsome, with dusky purple hair and deep blue eyes. More than anything, he was good to Nima, never once showing that he was intimidated by her intellect as other men had.

When I told Nima about what happened the second time I met Leor, she insisted we both avoid wandering the rural roadways alone. Since then, she always walked with me when we visited Grandma or our aunt. Most of the time, Pullam came along as well, which did ease any lingering fears I felt over the near miss from months earlier. He had been a soldier for several years before receiving an exception to return to Galvord as he attended university.

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