Page 5 of Nanny for the Minotaur

"That's it, little one. Deep breath in..." Lyra's voice carries the same gentle authority she's shown since arriving. Her small hands support Mira's back with practiced confidence as she helps her move just a little, getting her heart rate up safely and slowly. She says the muscle needs more work, not more rest.

I'm terrified of what that will entail.

My fingers drum against my bicep. The rings on my horns catch the light as I tilt my head, studying their interaction. Every healer before this has treated Mira like fragile glass or a problem to be solved. But Lyra...she handles my daughter with a reverence that speaks of genuine care rather than professional obligation.

It took Lyra no time to move her belongings into a guest room in the children's wing. She gets up with Mira and Kai,making sure that Mira gets the herbs and movement she needs. It's only been a few days, but I'm already seeing the improvement.

Like now, as I watch Mira's chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm – no hitching, no struggle. For the first time in so long, she's drifted into peaceful sleep, her tiny form curled trustingly against Lyra's side. The sight stirs something in me I'm not ready to examine.

"Remarkable," I mutter, the word escaping before I can catch it.

Lyra's green eyes flick up to meet mine, a knowing smile playing at her lips. Those gold flecks in her irises seem to dance with quiet triumph. It seems she cares about healing my daughter just as much as I am.

I straighten, adjusting my tunic in a futile attempt to regain my composure. The top of Lyra's head wouldn't even reach my chest if she stood, yet somehow she's managed to make me feel off-balance in my own home. Professional interest, I tell myself. That's all this scrutiny is – appreciation for her skill with Mira. Nothing more.

I won't let myself think about how I was stunned at her beauty the second she walked in. Not how I find myself studying her copper hair and bright green eyes, far longer than I should.

No. I just want the best for Mira, and this healer seems to be it.

But watching her small fingers stroke my daughter's fur with such tenderness, seeing the peaceful expression on Mira's face...it challenges everything I thought I knew about humans. About capability. About strength.

The numbers blurbefore my eyes as I stare at the ledger. Third time I've tried to calculate this shipment's costs. My quilldrips ink onto the page, creating a dark stain that spreads across the careful columns.

"Damn it." I toss the ruined page aside, running a hand over my face.

Through my study window, I catch glimpses of the garden. Mira's silver fur gleams in the afternoon sun as she toddles after Lyra, who's teaching her the names of healing herbs. My daughter's steps are steadier than they've been in months.

I grab a fresh sheet of parchment, determined to focus. The Steelhorn contract needs reviewing before?—

A burst of laughter draws my attention back outside. Kai perches on the garden wall, his gangly legs swinging as he reads aloud from one of his books. His voice carries the animated tone I haven't heard since before Cassandra... I grip my quill tighter.

Even Mrs. Bramble has changed, humming as she arranges flowers – actual flowers – in the hallway vases. The house feels lighter somehow. Warmer.

All because of one stubborn human woman who dared stand up to me in my own home. Who meets my glare with those fierce green eyes and refuses to back down when she thinks I'm being unreasonable about the children's care.

My rings scrape against my horns as I rub them in frustration. I need to get these contracts finished, not waste time watching Lyra's copper braid swing as she demonstrates proper plant harvesting technique. Or notice how her small hands move with such confidence. Or wonder how those hands would feel?—

The quill snaps in my grip. Ink splatters across my vest.

"Get it together, Blackhorn," I growl at myself. "She's the children's healer. Nothing more."

But the warmth spreading through my chest when she smiles at my children tells a different story. One I'm not ready to read.

The familiar thud of Dex's footsteps echoes through my front hall, followed by his booming laugh as he shoves my study dooropen. Only my closest friend would dare to disturb me without an ounce of remorse. "So the rumors are true. The great Theron Blackhorn hired a human healer."

I shoot him a warning glare as he ducks through the doorway of my study, his bronze horn rings catching the lamplight. "Not now, Dex."

"Oh no, we're definitely discussing this." He drops into the reinforced chair across from my desk, the wood groaning under his massive frame. "You? The one who lectured me for an hour about 'maintaining proper standards' when I suggested hiring that human carpenter?"

"That was different." I pour us both a measure of aged whiskey, pushing his glass across the desk.

"Different how?" His green eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans forward. "Because she's pretty?"

The whiskey burns my throat. "Because she's qualified. Mira's breathing has improved more over the last week than?—"

A soft knock interrupts us. Lyra enters with the tea service, her copper braid falling over one shoulder as she manages the oversized pot designed for minotaur hands. My fingers twitch with the urge to help, but I force them still. She'd only scold me again about underestimating her.

"Evening, gentlemen." She sets the tray down with practiced grace. "The kids are napping, and I thought I'd bring you some tea since I was already making some for them."

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