Page 16 of The Minotaur's Nanny Bride

MAYA

I'm elbow-deep in grinding fortisia leaves when the bell above my shop door chimes softly. Ellis shifts against my chest, nestled securely in the woven sling I fashioned from an old shawl. He makes a tiny snuffling sound before settling back into his nap, his warm weight both comforting and distracting.

"If you're here for the fylvek elixir, I already set some aside for you," I say without looking up, recognizing Lyra's light footsteps. My hands continue their rhythm—grind, scrape, collect, repeat—the dark green paste slowly filling the stone mortar.

The expected rustle of Lyra approaching the counter doesn't come. Instead, I hear her lean against the nearest shelf, the wood creaking slightly under her weight.

"I'm here for you," she says, her voice carrying that particular tone she reserves for when she thinks I'm being stubborn about something.

My hands pause for just a moment before I resume grinding with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. "I'm fine."

Lyra snorts, the sound entirely unladylike and perfectly her. "Are you?"

I finally glance up at my friend. Her copper-red hair is braided today, little sprigs of zabilla woven through it—likely from tending her healing garden this morning. Despite her petite frame, Lyra has always carried herself with a quiet confidence that makes her seem larger. Today, her bright green eyes study me with uncomfortable intensity, like she's trying to read something written beneath my skin.

A long pause stretches between us, filled only by Ellis's soft breathing and the scrape of my pestle against mortar. The morning sun streams through the shop windows, catching dust motes in golden beams that illuminate the rows of jars and bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. The familiar scent of my life's work—earthy, green, sharp with medicinal potency—usually calms me, but today it can't quite settle the strange fluttering in my stomach under Lyra's gaze.

"So," Lyra finally breaks the silence, pushing away from the shelf to approach the counter. "When exactly were you planning to tell me about your new little companion? The entire market district is buzzing about how Maya Silverleaf is suddenly caring for a baby."

Ellis shifts again in the sling, as if sensing he's the topic of conversation. One tiny hoof kicks out, catching me in the ribs.

"He's not mine," I say, setting down the pestle and wiping my hands on my apron. "This is Ellis. I'm helping his uncle out."

"His uncle?"

"Dex. Dex Ironhoof. Maybe you know him." I'm hoping she doesn't for some reason.

Lyra's eyebrows shoot up nearly to her hairline. "Dex Ironhoof? As in, the merchant? The one with the shop near the west gate?"

I nod, gently adjusting Ellis in his sling so Lyra can see his face. His tawny fur is soft against my fingers, his baby horns barely more than nubs beneath my touch. "His sister passed away in childbirth. The father was already gone. Dex is all he has left."

Lyra steps closer, her expression softening as she peers at the sleeping infant. "Poor little one," she murmurs, reaching out to stroke one finger along his cheek. Ellis stirs, his gold eyes blinking open for a moment before closing again.

"Dex was at his wits' end when I met them," I explain, finding myself smiling at the memory despite everything. "He couldn't get Ellis to eat or sleep. The poor thing was screaming his lungs out in the middle of the street."

"And you swooped in to save them both?" Lyra's lips quirk into a knowing smile.

"I just showed him how to hold the baby properly," I say, defensive for reasons I can't quite articulate. "It's temporary. Just until Dex finds a proper nurse."

"Dex Ironhoof," Lyra repeats thoughtfully. "You know he's Theron's closest friend, right? They've been inseparable since they were young."

This stops me short. "Theron? Your Theron? The grumpy minotaur with the trading house?"

"The very same." She smiles, her hand moving to rest on her slightly rounded belly in an unconscious gesture. "They're practically brothers. How did you not know this?"

"I don't exactly run in merchant circles," I say, blinking as I process this new information. "And why would Dex never mention it? I've been helping with Ellis for over a week now."

Lyra shrugs. "It's not like you two have met. Maybe he doesn't know we grew up together, either."

I nod, surprised either way. Karona isn't huge, but what are the odds?

She looks around. "Are you expecting any orders?"

I shake my head. "Just filling for right now— What are you doing?"

She locks my front door, flips the sign, and grabs my shoulder, turning me. "Then, come on."

I follow Lyra to the back room of my shop, the familiar space where I mix my more complex remedies. Ellis is still asleep against my chest, his tiny hooves occasionally twitching as he dreams. The room smells of dried herbs and powdered minerals, with bunches of rirzed hanging from the ceiling beams and jars of labeled powders lining the shelves.

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