A Sprinkle of Stardust

Chapter 11 - Witness

They said a woman should never trust a Phouka, that he'd lure her in with his words if his forest traps didn't catch her first.

Legends warned against the black shuck, saying that stumbling across him meant sickness and looking him in the eye brought only death.

During Lyrani's youngest days, her parents had been on their guard against the Baubas, a demon who hid in the dark corners of homes and snatched children who had the misfortune of wandering within its reach.

But nobody had ever told her to be wary of kings who strayed from the script even though they came with their own danger.

There were no cautionary tales about a man with eyes like amber that sought Lyrani out when she tried to escape their gaze—eyes that always seemed to be smiling even if his lips weren't. And they were very nice lips.

Stop it, Lyrani told herself. She was not admiring King Nash, not now or last night.

The king wasn't what Lyrani had expected. She had thought he'd be more like Trelle—vain, self-absorbed, and oblivious to his privilege. Instead, he had asked Lyrani to take off her shoes.

He had noticed her pain even when Trelle didn't. Lyrani wished he hadn't, because it wasn't the way things were supposed to be, but another part of her grew warm at the thought.

King Nash had seen her.

Lyrani had been undercover as a maid before, serving pompous and demanding nobles, but never before had she been seen. Nobody had ever remarked on what a good job she had done or even greeted her, let alone shown any concern about her feet, the first part of her to become overworked.

The king didn't have to say what he said. He didn't have to pay Lyrani any notice at all, but he had. Perhaps she was getting too into her maid character, but it was strangely touching.

How could a man who treated those beneath him so kindly be a murderer? It didn't make sense.

Rule number 2, Lyrani. No falling in love with targets.

Lyrani wasn't in love, but she was at the first stage of attraction, where she was comparing the king's eyes to gemstones and thinking about his lips. She'd best stop before she went further, straying past the point of no return into feelings that weren't so easily dismissed.

It wasn't like King Nash's actions had meant anything. He was a monarch. He knew Lyrani to be a maid. He had probably felt sorry for her.

All that said was that there was more to King Nash than Lyrani had thought, and she would find out what it was for the sake of this mission, for Elvenland and the realm.

With that determination blazing through her, Lyrani jumped from the veranda circling her and Trelle's apartment and landed on a lower bough. Beneath the ceiling of dark green leaves, she tiptoed along it, leaving the apartment behind her.

This far along the branch that it was the outskirts of the palace, the forest swallowed Lyrani up, and it was like she was alone in the wilderness.

Her father had brought her to the forest often when she was younger, just the two of them. As much they loved the mountain where they lived, there was something about the forest that beckoned them.

There were always new places to explore and new things to learn. It was a break in the monotony of Irylen, where there were fewer tall trees to climb and little creatures to see.

It was in the forest that Lyrani learned to start a fire. She was nowhere near as efficient as elves with the ability to create fire, like Isarea, but it was a useful skill. She had learnt to skim stones on the surface of a lake and set up a tent in the trees, using the trunk and the branches for support. Then she and her father used to curl up inside and tell stories as they made them up. They were spontaneous and full of plot holes but still good fun.