Page 103 of Kissing Potions and Elves
The evening continues with laughter and dancing, the village musicians playing lively tunes. Isobel pulls me toward the dance floor, eyes bright and playful.
“Come on, Lyrion! It’s bad luck not to dance at your own wedding, you know,” she teases.
The music is vibrant, far less formal than any Elven ball, but also decidedly more fun. Isobel spins gracefully, laughing as I try to match her energetic steps. To my utter astonishment, my parents join in, moving stiffly and awkwardly as they join in the revelry.
Rhystan chuckles beside me, watching them. “Look at them. They’re actually enjoying themselves. Miracles do happen, Brother.”
As we leave the dance floor, Cyran and Brakkus approach, Cyran’s dragonfly-like wings shimmering in the lantern light. Brakkus clasps my shoulder, his smile wide and genuine.
“Congratulations, Lyrion,” Brakkus says warmly.
“We’re happy for you both,” Cyran adds.
Tressa walks up beside her brother, smiling at me. “If I wasn’t so thrilled for Isobel, I’d be upset at you, you know.” She gives me a mock stern look. “She was my best worker. Now, you’ve taken her away and I’ll have to find someone new.”
Isobel blushes beside me, and I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
“Oh, Tressa,” Isobel says. “I’m so sorry, but we have to go on our honeymoon. Maybe I can help out for a bit when we return,” she offers. “Just until you hire someone else.”
Tressa smiles. “Don’t you worry about it, Isobel. I was only teasing. I’m happy for you. Spend your days doing whatever yourheart desires,” she adds. “But if you ever get bored, I certainly won’t turn you away if you miss working at the café.”
She and Isobel laugh and begin talking to Brakkus.
Rhystan clears his throat, drawing my attention, his violet eyes fixed upon something across the village square.
I cock my head to one side. “What are you looking at?” I ask as he straightens his tunic and smooths his short, black hair. Curious, I follow his gaze and find a young human woman I’ve seen once or twice in town.
“Who is that?” Rhystan asks Isobel, his voice filled with unmistakable interest.
“I think she just moved here recently,” Isobel replies. “I can’t remember her name, but I believe she works at the bakery.”
Rhystan lifts his chin and flashes a roguish smile. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He strides confidently toward her, and I chuckle, shaking my head.
The reception winds down slowly, guests lingering around lantern-lit tables, conversation and laughter drifting into the cool evening air. Isobel yawns beside me.
My parents, Rhystan, Hilda, and Errol will be staying at the local tavern inn, giving us the manor to ourselves tonight.
“Come.” I sweep her into my arms.
“Lyrion, put me down!” She laughs. “I can walk perfectly well.”
“But I heard it’s a human tradition,” I murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “For the groom to carry his bride over the threshold.”
“But the manor is so far away.”
I arch a brow. “I seem to remember carrying you the night of the potion mishap, or have you already forgotten?”
A stunning smile curves her mouth. “How could I possibly forget?”
“I didn’t know it at the time, but that was the best thing that had ever happened to me,” I add, carrying her easily through the moonlit village streets.
She rests her head against my shoulder, a soft sigh slipping from her lips. “Me too.”
I nuzzle her temple and whisper, “It was the beginning of our forever.”
CHAPTER 56
