Page 26 of Kissing Potions and Elves
LYRION
“Lyrion, wake up.”
Groaning, I burrow deeper into my silken pillows.
“Come on, Lyrion. You need to get up.” The voice floats through my sleepy mind, annoyingly persistent, followed by a gentle shake to my shoulder.
I crack open one reluctant eye, squinting against the dim lamplight.
Isobel stands over me, fully dressed, bright-eyed, and entirely too cheerful. Her long blonde hair is neatly braided, and her apron is already tied firmly around her waist.
Errol hops out of her arms onto the bed beside me and places his paw on my nose.“Wake up, Elf,”he says in my mind.“If you don’t hurry, Isobel is going to be late.”
Gently, I push him away and sit up with a low groan, running a hand through my hair. “Moon and stars, Isobel. It’s still night. What is going on?”
She huffs a soft laugh, tugging at my blanket. “It’s nearly dawn, silly. Come on. We need to get some breakfast, and I have to get to work.”
Work?I lift my head just enough to glare toward the window, where the sky is still a deep blue, faint streaks of pink and orange barely visible on the distant horizon.
I collapse dramatically back onto the pillows with another groan. “Surely they can survive a day without you at the café.”
“No,” she says firmly, pulling the comforter away from me. “They can’t. I’m the one who opens and closes each day.”
I push myself up to sitting, irritation prickling my skin. “Remind me again why you’re working in a café and mixing potions?”
Her cheeks pinken. “Usually Tressa handles the potions. I just serve the tea. Besides, we owe her an explanation before she arrives at the shop.”
Begrudgingly, I throw my legs over the edge of the bed, blowing out a frustrated breath as I lean forward on my knees, resting my head in my hands.
“Maybe it’d help you wake up if I brought you some tea?” Isobel offers, but I wave her away.
“It’s fine.” I yawn. “I’ll be down momentarily.”
The moment she leaves, I glance again at my warm bed, tempted to crawl back beneath the covers and go back to sleep. I usually enjoy waking in my own time, not being dragged awake before the sun is even out. And certainly not to march into the village to sit idly at a café.
“Don’t even think about it.”Errol’s voice fills my mind as he stands in the doorway.“Isobel can’t be late. She needs this job. She nearly starved last winter, and I don’t want to see her go through that again.”
“She—what?” I ask, but he’s already sauntering away, down the hall.
After a quick bath, I change into a fresh tunic and pants, and then shuffle downstairs, rubbing my eyes and stifling another yawn.
When I reach the kitchen, I find Isobel humming as she slices bread, her hips swaying to her own tune. Errol sits beside her on the countertop, watching as she pours milk into his bowl.
The room smells faintly of warm bread and fresh tea, comforting and domestic in a way I haven’t experienced before. Errol takes a few laps of his milk and then stretches languidly, arching his back with obvious satisfaction.
“What exactly do you plan to do all day?”I ask him silently, still groggy.
He flicks his tail, green eyes glittering.“I think I’ll lounge on your bed. The sun seems to hit that area just right in the morning,”he adds.“It truly is the best spot in the house.”
“My bed?”I narrow my eyes suspiciously at him.“Why there?”
He gives me a look filled with exaggerated patience.“As I just said, it truly is the best spot in the house for sunning oneself.”
I glare at the smug feline, realizing he’s annoyingly lucky to be spending the day lazing about while I’m dragged out before sunrise.
Isobel turns, spotting me lingering in the doorway, and her lips curl up in a radiant smile. “Good morning!”
“That’s debatable,” I mutter dryly, as I sink into a chair at the table. I glance around the room. “Where’s Hilda?”
