Page 25 of Under the Lion Star

“I don’t have many friends, Z,” El smiled. “Unfortunately, I rather like you, so you’re stuck with me a while longer.”

“I think I’m good with that,” I grinned.

“Well, you do have a head injury, so you’re probably not thinking straight.”

I rolled my eyes, earning another quiet chuckle. El walked up the few steps of our stoop and softly kissed my cheek before pulling back. The light from the small crack where I had opened the front door cut a path over one eye, chasing away the shadows of the night around us.

He moved backward down the steps, eventually turning and slipping into the darkness.

Everyone had already gone to sleep when I entered my home, but as I lay in bed with a full stomach and an even fuller heart, I smiled to myself. Confident that today was not the last time that I would see El.

Chapter 6

Leor

The mouse’s corpse was twisted back on itself, eye sockets empty as the creature’s fur absorbed the aqueous humor from where they once had been. Claw marks marred the flesh around the hollow spaces, and blood was dried onto its tiny paws.

“Well, that’s not ideal,” Atlas stroked his hand over his jaw as we studied the dead rodent.

I could only stare at him with a deadpan expression. It certainly wasn’t ideal.

“The other plates?” I asked.

“All fine. Clearly, you’re the only target.”

“Small victories,” I mused.

I’d realized quickly upon my return home that someone wanted me dead. The first meal I ate, I had little appetite, eating only a few bites before retiring for the night. I was awoken by a violent cramping in my stomach and feared that someone may have poisoned my food. Atlas had still been away in Krannar, organizing our troops' return, but Liras had jumped in and caught a few mice, which we used to test my and my siblings' food before each meal.

The silver lining was that neither Orin’s nor Sanna’s meals were ever tampered with, but my death would certainly cause both of them issues.

“We’re going to need more mice,” Atlas sighed.

I nodded wordlessly.

“Don’t they say poison is a woman’s weapon?” He smirked.

“If a woman wanted me dead, I would be,” I scoffed. “This is some cowardly power play.”

“You got any idea of who might want you dead?”

“I imagine the list of people who want to kill a king is never-ending,” I winced at the title, one that still felt wrong.

“To have access to your food, though,” Atlas shook his head. “It’s someone close.”

We continued to stare at the dead mouse on the plate. As much as I loathed the position I had been put in, my death would be catastrophic, serving to potentially out my brother’s crimes. Being king was what I had been raised to do, but I’d been hard-pressed to find any good that came from taking the throne.

“If something happens to me,” I looked at Atlas while his silver eyes studied mine. “You get Orin, Sanna, and Liras out of Galvord.”

He nodded, being one of the few people who understood the gravity of the situation. Atlas was my oldest friend and, until very recently, the only person that I felt was an ally. I had no doubts that if my hopeful assassin were successful, he’d protect my siblings with his life.

Letting out a groan, I ran my fingers through my hair. While the fact that the dish was poisoned was concerning, I had been looking forward to the meal. The stress of verifying the safety of everything I ate weighed on me.

When was the last time I ate something without fear?

My mind immediately recalled the meal I’d shared with Z at the tavern and those her grandmother had provided as I worked on her home. I smiled as I remembered how she never recognized me, even though many others had. Zialda treated me the same she did anyone else, with suspicion and snark. My eyes moved to Atlas, wondering why the only two people I considered friends loved to verbally spar with me.

Guess you have a type.

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