Talia stood in the potato field. Her fancy robes were now covered by a dirt-streaked apron that Lyra said would “help her blend in.” If anything, it just made her look even more out of place.
“Alright, Sparkles!” Lyra said, balancing a chicken on her head like it was no big deal. “Time to plant some potatoes! These little guys are the real heroes of food. Plant ‘em, water ‘em, pray to the potato gods, and BAM! Potato magic!”
“Potato... gods?” Talia squinted at Lyra, trying to figure out if she was serious or had completely lost it.
“Yup! Super chill gods. They only smite you if you plant them upside down,” Lyra said, smiling way too much.
Talia’s eye twitched. “That’s... ridiculous.”
“Relax!” Lyra said, giving Talia a pat on the shoulder. “It’s foolproof. Start digging!”
With a groan, Talia crouched down next to a crate. She picked up a shovel like it might explode. How hard could this be?
Talia stabbed the shovel into the ground. But the hole was shallow. Useless. It could barely hold a marble.
Lyra leaned over her shoulder, tilting her head just like the chicken sitting on it. “Wow, that’s tiny. You planting baby potatoes or something?”
Talia’s face turned red. “I’m warming up!” She jammed the shovel into the ground with way too much force, making a hole big enough for a small tree.
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“Whoa there! This isn’t an archaeological dig,” Lyra teased, taking the shovel from Talia like she was saving it from a toddler. “You gotta be gentle. Potatoes need love, not violence.”
Talia glanced at Lyra. There’s no way this was real. This was Lyra. The Lyra. The genius crafter who turned the ruins of an old shrine into a sword that yelled insults at its enemies during battle. And now here she was, talking about potatoes? No way. There had to be something else going on.
What’s the plan here? Talia glared at Lyra’s apron. Magical potatoes? Secret experiments? Military-grade vegetables? Her eyes flicked to the chicken on Lyra’s head. Is... is the chicken in on it too?
With a huff, Talia patted the dirt. A tiny spark of magic escaped her fingers. Pop! The potato shot into the ground like a missile.
Lyra blinked at the glowing patch of dirt, then grinned. “Speed-farming! Look at you go!”
Talia scrambled to cover up the glowing hole. “I-I meant to do that. Totally on purpose.”
“You’re a potato prodigy!” Lyra cheered, giving her two thumbs-up. “Stick with me, Sparkles, and we’ll take over the potato world!”
Talia groaned. “I think I’m done here...” She turned to leave this ridiculous scene behind—
BOOM!
The potato shot out of the ground like a cannonball, zooming past Talia’s ear.
Lyra, without even flinching, caught it mid-air. “She plants and harvests at the same time! Genius!”
Talia’s jaw dropped as Lyra tossed the potato in the air, whistling a happy tune.
No. No way this was normal. Lyra had to be hiding something. This whole “punishment by exile” thing? A cover. The king wouldn’t just send her here for something as silly as potatoes.
Lyra skipped through the field, her apron flapping and the chicken still perfectly balanced on her head. The potato, the apron, the chicken… All of it had to be a trick.
Talia clenched her fists. Tch. You’re good, Lyra. But I’m onto you. There’s no way you’re just here for farming.
Lyra turned back and waved. “Hey, Sparkles! Don’t forget to pray to the potato gods tonight! They’re watching!”