Page 60 of Kissing Potions and Elves
I wring my hands in my skirts as a fresh wave of guilt sweeps over me. That’s exactly what I did to Lyrion, isn’t it? My potion mix-up makes him want to kiss me against his will.
Rhystan hands me the cup, his expression softening. “Try to relax, Isobel. Anxious feelings can interfere with the spell.”
Great. No pressure... “I’ll try.”
He sits in the chair across from me and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His expression is calm and friendly. There’s something about him—a charming aura that would normally put me at ease in any other circumstance.
“Alright.” Rhystan grins. “Out with it. What’s troubling you? Whatever it is, you need to get it out so you’re not so tense.” He gives me a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t worry. I can keep a secret.”
“I just… I want this to work.” I let out a shaky breath, fingers gripping the cup tightly. “I feel terrible about what I did to Lyrion. I want him to be free of all this.”
Rhystan cocks his head to one side. “To be honest, I think this whole thing has been good for him in a way.”
“How so?”
“Usually, my brother is oblivious to the world, always scribbling in that notebook of his. He’s never exactly unhappy, but... I’m not sure I’d call him happy either. Now, though, he’s different.” Rhystan sighs. “I personally think your positive energy is good for him.”
Hope sparks within. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely.” Rhystan gestures to the cup in my hands. “Now, what do you say we give this a try?”
Cautiously, I drink the potion. The taste is a bit sweet and tingly on my tongue, like chocolate mixed with peppermint.
Rhystan instructs me to lie back on the couch. “Now, close your eyes. I’ll guide you through your memories. I need you to focus on what happened the night you made the potion for my brother.”
Closing my eyes, I lie back on the chaise.
“Think back to that night,” Rhystan instructs. “What were you doing when you first saw Lyrion?”
“I was cleaning up when he knocked on the door even though we were closed for the evening. He was so insistent that he needed something for his headache. And I was nervous because he’d never really noticed or spoken to me before. I’ve had feelings for him since the first time he walked into the café.”
My eyes fly open, mortified. “Oh, stars, why did I just say that?”
Rhystan chuckles. “It’s the potion. We need to get to the core of your memories. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” He grins. “Though this does confirm your questionable taste in men.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Lyrion,” I protest even though I know Rhystan is only teasing.
“Youdidn’t grow up with him,” Rhystan jokes. “Perpetual cloud over his head in the mornings, that one.”
A smile crests my lips. “I think that broody handsomeness is what caught my eye when I first saw him.” I gasp, clapping my hand over my mouth, horrified at my admission. “Heavens above, I can’t seem to keep my thoughts from just spilling out.”
Rhystan chuckles again, waving off my embarrassment. “It’s alright. The potion can loosen your tongue while you’re recalling your memories,” he reassures me, eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a thing.”
I narrow my eyes. “Swear it.”
A grin tugs at his mouth as he rests one hand over his heart. “You have my most solemn vow.”
I’m not quite sure I believe him, but there’s nothing to be done for it now. Besides, there’s just something about him that makes me want to trust him. Talking to him is like speaking with an old friend that loves to tease you every now and then.
As he guides me to recall that evening, we finally get to where I was mixing the potion.
“Despite my nerves,” I begin. “I was doing my best to match the symbols on the jars and in the potion book.”
He frowns. “Why were you matching symbols instead of reading the labels?”
“Because I can’t read.” The admission spills from my mouth before I can take it back. Swallowing hard, I look down at my hands.
Rhystan’s expression softens. “There’s no shame in that, Isobel. Many people cannot read. If you’d like, Lyrion and I could—”
