Page 42 of Kissing Potions and Elves
“I’d love that.” A tremulous smile curves her lips, brighter than sunshine after a storm.
A strange warmth blooms in my chest. Stars help me. What am I going to do with this human? It’s as if she has burrowed into my very soul, claiming parts of me I never intended to give away.
And now, I fear, it’s far too late to reclaim them.
CHAPTER 21
ISOBEL
Isit nervously at the desk in Lyrion’s workroom. Soft candlelight casts dancing shadows across the worn pages of the open book before me. The symbols swim on the parchment, twisting and blurring until they seem little more than delicate ink-stained vines.
Familiar shame burns through me as I try to copy some of the letters and they look more like squiggly lines instead of the elegant script I’m supposed to mimic.
“These are awful,” I groan as Lyrion looks at my work.
“It’s alright,” he murmurs from his seat beside me. “This is new, and you’re doing wonderfully.”
It warms something deep within to know that he sees all of my failings and doesn’t judge me for it.
“I always felt so stupid because I couldn’t read or write. So many times I felt like I was playing pretend,” I admit, not quite meeting his eyes. “Worried that I was going to mess up in front of everyone… and prove I don’t belong.” Tears blur my vision,but I blink them back. “And now, I’m starting not to feel that way as much anymore.”
Lyrion takes my hand, his fingers curling around mine, anchoring me.
“You belong,” he murmurs. “Not because you’re pretending, Isobel. But because you care. Because you try. You’re strong, intelligent, and determined. You never give up, no matter how hard things may be. That’s a kind of magic no one can teach.”
His words slip past every wall I’ve built, sinking deep into a part of me I didn’t realize was still so raw. My chest tightens. No one’s ever said something like that to me before. Not like this, not with such quiet certainty. And stars help me, I want to believe him.
“Thank you, Lyrion.” Emotions get stuck in my throat, but I somehow manage to speak around them. “For teaching me to read and for… believing in me.”
A faint smile curves his mouth. “Always,” he murmurs.
A sudden rustle draws my attention to the door, and I glance up just in time to see Errol leap gracefully onto the table. With absolute feline disdain, he bats at the stacked books, sending them cascading to the floor.
Before we can stop him, he flops onto his side and bumps into Lyrion’s half-full teacup, sending it toppling over the edge with a resounding crash.
“Errol!” I gasp in horror, lunging forward to save the parchment.
Lyrion purses his lips. “Was that really necessary?”
Errol gives Lyrion a slow, deliberate blink, utterly unimpressed, and settles himself comfortably in the newly cleared space, tail swishing lazily.
“I understand you prefer clear spaces, Errol, but you need to be more careful.”
I glance between the two of them. “What’s he saying?”
“He says my desk was overly cluttered, and we should be grateful he took the initiative to declutter it.”
I bite back a laugh as Lyrion narrows his eyes at the cat. “Next time, just ask and I’ll move things for you.”
Errol yawns, stretching luxuriously before turning his bright gaze to me.
Lyrion groans in frustration. “No, you cannot supervise her lesson. And I don’t care if you think you can do a better job,” Lyrion mutters irritably. “You’re acat, Errol, what doyouknow about letters?”
Now I’m desperately fighting back laughter as Lyrion continues his one-sided conversation, looking utterly exasperated.
“He just wants to help.” I chuckle and reach across to scratch under Errol’s chin the way he likes. “Don’t you, Errol? Because you’re so good. Yes, you are,” I coo at him. “Such a smart and brilliant feline.”
Lyrion rolls his eyes. “Don’t encourage him.”
