Page 24 of Kissing Potions and Elves
LYRION
The evening air carries the faint scent of herbs and sweet blossoms through the window, mingling with the subtle crackle of logs burning low in the hearth. We’ve just finished cleaning up my workroom when Hilda’s voice floats up from below, announcing that dinner is ready.
Isobel smiles. “I’m going to change into something… not covered in glitter.”
My lips twitch as I glance at our reflection in the nearby mirror. We’re covered head to toe in shimmering dust. “I think I’ll do the same.”
She walks toward the door, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll see you downstairs in a bit.”
I nod as she walks away. Sighing heavily, I clench my jaw. This potion is becoming most inconvenient indeed. I cannot believe I kissed her again. Even now, the urge to pull her close and taste her lips once more is difficult to ignore.
Stars above, I’ve got to get a hold of myself. I’ve faced down arrogant nobles and political intrigues without faltering, yetthis clumsy, earnest human completely unravels my composure without even trying.
When I reach my chambers to change clothes, awareness prickles my senses as I detect a familiar presence nearby. Glancing down, I notice Errol, his fluffy tail swishing lazily behind him, green eyes glowing with amusement.
“It’s polite to knock, you know,” I grumble.
The cat lifts one paw, inspecting it with exaggerated casualness.“Doors are suggestions, Elf. I simply choose to ignore them.”
I arch a brow. “Manners would dictate otherwise.”
“Manners are also suggestions.”He tilts his head slightly.“Besides, this is my manor now, too. It’s only fair that I inspect my chambers.”
My brows rise. “Your chambers?”
“Obviously,”Errol purrs.“Isobel’s are nearby, so these are mine—to ensure your… intentions remain honorable.”
My cheeks flush at his pointed insinuation. “My intentions are entirely honorable,” I protest.
“Oh, yes,”Errol drawls, eyes glinting mischievously.“That passionate kiss I witnessed in your workroom earlier practically screamed ‘honorable intentions.’”
“That was the result of that disastrous kissing potion Isobel gave me.” Indignation burns through me as I tug a fresh tunic over my head with a bit more force than necessary. “Nothing more.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”Errol leaps gracefully onto my bed, making himself comfortable among the soft cushions with a loud purr.“I have eyes, Lyrion. Excellent ones, as a matter of fact. And you, my dear Elf, are smitten.”
My heart gives a startled, uncomfortable jolt. “Smitten? That is preposterous.”
“Is it?”Errol’s whiskers twitch.“I’ve caught you watching her with that lovesick, dreamy expression more than once. Frankly, it’s embarrassing.”
“I most certainly do not have a ‘lovesick, dreamy expression.’” I cross my arms, glaring at the feline currently rearranging my bedding to suit himself. “And kindly cease fluffing my pillows.”
“These are my pillows now.”
“You can’t claim everything in this house, you spoiled ball of fur.”
“Of course I can. I’m a cat. It’s what we do.”
I sigh heavily, running a hand through my hair. “You are utterly impossible.”
Errol stretches leisurely across the bed.“And you are utterly transparent. If you truly wish to court my mistress, you’ll need my approval first. Keep treating her well, and you just might earn it.”
“I’m not courting her,” I deny. “I am simply… being courteous.”
“Mmm. Very courteous, indeed, if that kiss was anything to judge by,”Errol says pointedly.“Don’t worry, Elf. Your secret yearning is safe with me.”
I narrow my eyes, even as heat flames my cheeks. “You’ve got it wrong, cat.”
“I think not,”he purrs smugly.“Now go feed me. I mean… us. My mistress awaits.”
