I actually... like Cyrus. He seems wonderful, but there’s something beneath the surface that I haven’t quite figured out. It irritates me, and I’m not sure if it’s my own jealousy, or if it’s something more serious. It’s definitely something I don’t intend to share with Lucien, however, especially with all his cringy doting.
“Have you ever been to the Temple of Sol?” Cyrus asks Lucien excitedly.
“I have, but it was so long ago, I can barely recall what it looks like,” he replies, his eyes never drifting from Cyrus’ face.
“We should go there one day.”
“We should. We can take everyone with us. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Luna? To go see the temple?”
The bubbles in my glass of ale pop, and form a surprised face I have trouble looking away from when Lucien says my name.
“Sure, it sounds lovely,” I grumble, shocked they remembered I was even there after speaking to each other in hushed tones for so long.
“You don’t sound convinced,” says Cyrus, haughtily, and there’s a strange glint in his eyes.
Is that what it is? Is he full of himself, like Arthur? Is that why Lucien likes him? I glare at him over the rim of my glass, as I take another drink.
“Sorry, I just...”
“I thought you said she was adventurous,” Cyrus remarks to Lucien, with a small tap on Lucien’s shoulder.
The corner of Lucien’s mouth twitches when he looks at me, and I make a mental note to behave more cheerfully before his head explodes. It was the first time Seraphina, Fox, Arthur and I were free at the same time, and Lucien wanted to officially introduce us to Cyrus. I was excited to have them all join me for this awkward occasion. Unfortunately, Seraphina and Arthur are too distracted gazing longingly at each other, and Fox is too busy pacing the pub floor waiting for his girlfriend to show up to have any meaningful interaction with anyone. I’m stuck watching them flirt on my own, and having my jealousy chip away at me, threatening to make me cause a scene. I didn’t think loneliness could feel more intense in a pub filled with people.
“Would you like to dance?” Lucien asks Cyrus, his eyes glimmering each time he looks at him.
Cyrus grimaces. “I don’t like dancing in public, my love.”
I cough, and some ale burns the back of my throat. I raise an eyebrow, and give Lucien a look. He notices, and promptly ignores it.
“So you’ll dance in private?” Lucien teases.
I huff, then giggle, and Cyrus glares at me.
“Don’t flirt so much, Lucien, but dance with Luna, if you’re so inclined.”
I gulp down the rest of my ale, leave the table, and pull Fox with me towards the other dancers. Fox gives me a concerned look, fighting against me, his eyes never leaving the pub entrance.
“I thought you’d be dancing with our favorite elf,” he shouts over the noise of the crowd.
“Which one?” I laugh. “The new one, or the one that’s forcing me to endure him?”
“Ha!” He laughs with me. “Is it just me or does it seem as if he’s not very interested in meeting us at all, and just wants to violate Lucien’s body? I’m surprised they’re still here. I feel like an intruder.”
“I’d be surprised if he were interested in anyone at all. I can’t understand anything they’re talking about, as if he’s purposely excluding us from every conversation just to brag about himself.”
I glance back at our table. Cyrus and Lucien seem unbothered, and are chatting with Seraphina and Arthur. Cyrus is rolling his eyes as Arthur is speaking, but staring longingly at Lucien.
“Fox, they could hear you if you’re not careful.”
“It wouldn’t bother me one bit if they did. Is Lucien serious about him? It’s very strange. He’s great, but he’s so... not like the person I thought he’d be with.”
“It’s Lucien. Who knows what he’s interested in.”
“Luna, don’t be ridiculous,” he grumbles.
“What?”
“He likes you!”
“Of course he does, we’re friends.”
He sighs. “As an actual friend to you-”
“Now.”
“What?”
“We’re friends now, but-”
“Right, whatever. I must inform you that he likes you as more than just a friend. I’d know.”
“He’s not. Lucien is just different.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to say. He treats you differently from the rest of us. He drops anything to be with you. How can you not see that? How can you just watch that disaster happening at that table, and not step in to stop it? This is a disaster, and you’re in denial.”
“I’ve known him longer, so we’re closer.”
“Ugh, you’re both so frustrating. Arthur’s known him the longest, and the two of you are much closer than they are. Surely you’ve noticed.”
“I’m just not as annoying.”
“Who told you that lie?”
I gasp. “Fox! You’re so rude!”
“And you’re being purposely obtuse. You’re absolutely delusional.”
“Delusional,” I whisper. “Is what I’d be if I thought I actually had a chance with him. Or... if I thought my family would accept him. Delusional is what I’d be if I thought anyone would accept our relationship. So yes, we’re friends, Fox. Just friends. You’re the only delusional one here thinking I’d just step in, and ruin my best friend’s happiness for my own selfish feelings.”
He gives me a surprised look, and continues clumsily dancing with me.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “You’re... right.”
Before the dance is over, Fox walks away to dance with his new girlfriend, Elizabeth, who has just arrived. Lucien joins me before long, and I’m too numb from my conversation with Fox to question it.
“Do you like him?” He asks, hopefully.
“Uh- Who? Fox?”
“No,” he scoffs. “Cyrus.”
“He’s... Yes, I do. He seems to like you, too. You seem to make each other happy.”
“We do!”
“I’m happy for you, Luce.”
“Thanks, Lune.”
It’s late, and everyone has left. Lucien and I return to the potion shop, both convinced it’s still too early to end the night. He grins wide as I pour more wine into his cup, and takes a long drink.
“You seemed to have fun tonight. I’m surprised you didn’t go home with him,” I remark, fighting back my sarcastic tone.
“He was exhausted.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t be for long if you’d join him. Won’t you be seeing him tomorrow, anyway? Why not take advantage of the situation? Have a little fun, while you’re at it.”
Being alone right now would give me the time to think through whatever it was that I was feeling after Fox’s words.
“If I’m lucky. He’s very busy getting settled at the Academy.”
“Ugh!” I groan. “I’m so jealous. I need to find someone. Even Seraphina and Arthur are beginning to make me feel lonely.”
I cover my mouth, embarrassed to have said my thoughts out loud. Lucien holds up a finger to indicate he wants to speak, as he downs the rest of the wine in his cup.
“You,” he says, taking a deep breath and pausing, because he’s already drunk, and struggling to form a coherent sentence. “Will find someone.”
“Your hesitation worries me,” I tease him.
I can almost see the steam curling out of his ears as he thinks.
“Have you spoken to Marcellus?” He asks, setting his cup down on the table.
“I’m not that desperate,” I say, shocked he would even mention him. “Do you think Madam Lyra still keeps her sweets here?”
“I think she caught on when we ate some of her chocolates last time.”
“Damn. I could use something sweet.”
“Oh!” Lucien exclaims. “I think I left some honey cake here.”
“Don’t get my hopes up, Sir Moonshadow.”
“I’m certain of it. One moment. I think I hid it behind a row of potions. Madam Lyra also has a sweet tooth, if you hadn’t noticed.”
He searches through the shelves, and cheers when he finds the paper wrapped cake. He sets it on the table, and it glistens in a pool of honey.
“I wish Cyrus was here,” he says, sadly. “He’d love this. Cake, wine, and a good friend.”
I take a piece of cake, and devour it in a single bite. He laughs at me, and takes a small nibble of his half. We stare at each other, and I wonder if he has any unspoken thoughts rolling around in his head.
“Fox got the feeling Cyrus didn’t really want to meet any of us,” I comment, as I lick the honey off my fingers.
“He’s... very private.”
“Why did you drag him out?”
“I wanted all of you to meet him. You’re my friends, after all. I thought it made sense at the time, but now I’m not so sure. You’re probably right, though. He wasn’t very excited to be there. It was difficult to get him to talk to any of you. I think he prefers places that are more quiet.”
“Places private enough where he can kiss you?” I tease him.
For a moment, I think he’s too drunk to react, until his cheeks suddenly become a deep shade of blue. “I feel like I’m a teenager again. Everything feels new and exciting, and I just want to be with him all the time.”
I chuckle, and lick more honey off my fingers.
“Does he make your heart flutter when you see him?” I ask.
“Yes, he does.”
“Are you thinking of him all the time?” I laugh.
“Y-Yes,” he gets a deeper shade of blue.
“Lucien, I think you’re acting like a teenager.”
“Gods, is that bad?” He asks, panicked.
“No, Luce! Enjoy it while you can, you idiot. It doesn’t happen often... not that I’d know. There might be a time when you’ll miss when everything was new and exciting.”
“That sounds depressing.”
“It’s not. It’s nice to settle down, too. To be so comfortable with someone that conversation and shared kisses come naturally.”
The look on his face makes my heart leap. I want to know what it feels like for him to fall in love. Is the feeling as pure and sweet as he is? Is it soft and warm? Does it burn hot and fierce? His face seems filled with fear and excitement, and I’m afraid it’s contagious. I want to fall in love like he has.
I play with the honey cake wrapper, lost in thought. It wouldn’t be appropriate to ask him all these questions.
“Luna, just grab it, and hand it to me,” shouts Lucien up at me, gripping the wobbly ladder with all of his strength to keep it from toppling over.
“Just stop shaking the ladder, and it wouldn’t be such a problem.”
“I’m not shaking it. I’m holding it in place.”
“Gods,” I mutter. “I’m going to die in a pile of glass, covered in healing potions. Over and over and over.”
I snatch up a bottle, and cast a spell on it to make it float onto the front counter.
“Hurry up. I can’t hold this ladder for much longer,” he rushes.
“You seem to suddenly have thin, dried twigs for arms,” I grumble, getting off the ladder.
“Well, Cyrus keeps me busy.”
I choke on a gasp, my cheeks reddening.
“He’s moving out of the Academy, remember?” He reminds me. “So am I! I’ve been lifting so many boxes helping others move out, too. Where’s your mind going?”
“O-Oh!”
“He also keeps me busy with nocturnal activities,” he laughs.
I huff, and take the potion off the counter to the back of the shop, and prepare it to be delivered.
“I’m going out. Don’t let anyone in,” I say, curtly.
“Oh,” he pretends to pout. “You don’t have to be that way. I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing personal, but I’d rather not picture the two of you... ugh, bye.”
When I return, Lucien peeks down from a slit between the ceiling and the attic door.
“It’s just me, Luce. Is Madam Lyra still out?”
“She is.”
“Alright. I’m headed out. I have some studying to do, and there’s nothing left on the list to work on.”
“Actually,” he says, appearing next to me, and causing me to fall back.
“Lucien! What did I say about that?”
“I shouldn’t shadow jump right in front of you.”
“And what did you just do?”
“Luna, you’ve been behaving... unusual.”
I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m stressed.”
“Do you... possibly want to talk about it?”
“No, not really,” I say, overenunciating each word.
“Did I do something to upset you?”
I roll my eyes. “No, Lucien. You know you’re not the center of my life, right?”
“Hmm,” he eyes me, narrowing his eyes. “Well, as it turns out, Madam Lyra has one more potion we need to make.”
He walks over the small box containing recipes for the more complicated potions.
“And what’s that? The list is completed.”
“Elixir of Truth. She has to send it over to the capital,” he says, handing me a blank recipe card.
“Such a thing exists?” I ask, turning the blank card over in my hands several times.
“It’s enchanted,” he mutters. “We can only view it when Selene takes her rest.”
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“Wonderful, so we’re done, because that was last-”
“I memorized the recipe yesterday when she told me about it. I just had no time because I was with...” he giggles. “Well, you know.”
“Wonderful,” I say, placing the card back into the box. “So, do we have all of the ingredients?”
“She was very specific when she mentioned we have to completely lock down the shop, including the addition of silencing charms on the walls.”
“Oh,” I say, excitedly. “Very secretive.”
“Yes, and she trusts us to do the job correctly.”
“Well, then, we can’t let her down. Let’s get started!”
“Whispering petals?” I laugh, pressing my ear to the small jar containing some otherwise normal-looking flower petals. “What’s so special about them?”
Lucien takes the jar from my hand, and pours the petal into the well of a mortar.
“They’re petals from a flower that strengthens vocal cords, and amplifies a speaker’s voice. Often used by singing performers.”
“I see...” I say, watching him crush the petals until they become mush. “And three different types of tears. There must be a large amount of crying during truth-telling. I understand. I’d cry, too, if I had to tell everyone exactly what I’m feeling.”
“Is that right?” he asks, placing the petal mush into the cauldron along with three vials of clear liquids of varying colors.
“Sounds dreadful.”
“As if you’d know.”
“I tell the truth all the time,” I attempt to keep a straight face, then clear my throat to keep myself from laughing.
“You couldn’t even keep a straight face,” he laughs. “You liar.”
“I’m glad this potion isn’t sold in the shop. Can you imagine?”
“Afraid of telling the truth, Luna?”
“No!” I scoff. “I’m afraid of talking about feelings.”
“Hmm,” he hums, taking a taste of the concoction in the cauldron. “It’s about done.”
“How can you just... taste that? Aren’t you afraid of what it might do?”
“It’s not glowing yet, but the instructions say to taste it. It should taste like citrus. It’s quite zesty. And unlike you, I don’t mind telling the truth, and sharing my feelings.”
“Is it potent?”
“Extremely.”
Lucien grabs me by the wrist when I reach into the cauldron.
“What?” I laugh.
“It could be finished any moment now,” he warns.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I laugh.
“If it glows, it’s finished.”
“Then let go of my hand, so I can be quick about it. I could have already tasted it.”
The potion glows brightly the moment it touches my tongue. I stare at Lucien in disbelief.
“I warned you,” he chuckles.
“Gods, this is all your fault. Now, I’m in trouble.”
“The worst part is, we can’t leave until everything is bottled and labeled.”
“You’re not serious. I need to leave.”
“I’m not going to take down the enchantments. It’ll waste too much time to take them down for you to leave, and then I have to put them back up,” he sighs, frustrated. “We can just work in silence, like we have all day, or I can lock you in the closet.”
“Closet.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want to be stuck here all night. You’re helping me.”
I clamp my hand over my mouth to keep myself from speaking, and he gives me a puzzled look.
“You are in trouble, aren’t you?” He gets up, and pours me a glass of water. “Drink. It should pass through your system quickly.”
I down the glass of water, and take several deep breaths.
“Silence, then?”
I nod.
“Are you afraid of what you might say to me?”
I press my lips together, and stare at him wide-eyed.
“Very well. It won’t be any different than it was this morning, when you completely ignored me for gods know what.”
I flare my nostrils, and begin the cooling process of the concoction.
“How long will it take to cool?” I ask.
He sighs, and walks over to a bucket filled to the brim with water. “Not long. We can water this one down. Write some labels.”
He pours the water into the cauldron while I spend some time neatly tearing up some pieces of paper. I scrawl the words ‘Truth Serum’ on each one, and stack them neatly in a pile.
“Five years we’ve known each other, and you’re still afraid of me,” he murmurs.
“I’m not afraid of you, Luce.”
“I suppose that’s comforting.”
I look up at him. He’s stirring the cauldron, while staring into the flames of the fire.
“Why do you... nothing,” I scoff.
“Your heart is always pounding when I’m near you, Lune.”
“You’re such an idiot. That doesn’t mean I’m afraid of you.”
“Then what is it?”
I gasp, and cover my mouth, fighting the urge to speak as the sounds force their way out of my mouth. It’s because I love him. I know I love him. I don’t want to ever admit it out loud, not to myself, not to my journal, and definitely not to him. It would make it true.
“Don’t answer that!” He scolds.
I sigh with relief, as the words settle back inside me, no longer wishing to escape.
“Did Madam Lyra leave you with instructions for how to deal with accidental truth serum consumption?” I ask.
“No, because she was very specific about when to taste it, and didn’t think an accident would happen. You’re in luck, however, because when I was younger, I had the displeasure of watching it in action.”
“Oh.”
I put my pen down, and for lack of something better to do, I straighten out the small pile of labels.
“We’ll need to burn any remaining labels. There’s to be no evidence remaining that these were created. Do you understand?”
I nod.
“It’s Cyrus, isn’t it?” He blurts.
“Lucien, don’t. I-”
“Sorry, don’t answer that,” he says quickly.
I sigh with relief. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, I’m just afraid you won’t like the answer to that. Gods! Lucien!”
He stares, his mouth agape.
“Don’t... look at me like that. How long will this thing last?” I panic.
“Then what is it?”
“Lucien!”
Lucien dips his finger into the cauldron, and licks his finger. “We’re even. Talk to me.”
“You can’t just do that. It’s not fair! You have nothing to hide.”
“I have plenty to hide. Quick, create some rules. Don’t say anything if it’ll risk your life.”
“I have many questions about that.”
“Lune! Agree.”
“Fine, I agree. Nothing life-threatening.”
“Is it Cyrus? I get the feeling you’re jealous of him, but I’m not sure why. He’s always nice, and we’re still spending time together. It doesn’t feel natural, and I’m not sure what’s happening. I feel like I’m losing you, and you’re distancing yourself from me.”
“No! That’s not it at all. I would never do that to you on purpose I just feel like...”
“Finish that sentence.”
The words threatening to spill out are becoming easier to control. The effects of the potion are beginning to weaken. Lucien dips his finger in the cauldron, and shoves it in my mouth.
“Yuck! Lucien! Why did you do that?”
“Talk. To. Me. Lune. I feel like I’m losing you.”
“We won’t ever talk about this night again! That is my condition. Agree to it.”
“I agree. Talk to me.”
“I’m jealous of Cyrus, and I think you’re too good for him!”
“Jealous?” He cries out. “Why would you be jealous?”
He stands to his feet, and leans over the table, mere inches from my face. I want to move away, but I’m drawn to him. I feel a rush of heat on my cheeks, my heart pounding. He looks down briefly towards my chest, then into my eyes.
“You’re doing it again,” he murmurs.
“We won’t talk about this ever again?”
“I already agreed.”
“You swear?”
“Lune, when have I ever lied to you?”
“And we’ll still be friends?”
His face softens. “Of course. That’s all I want.”
Tears begin to stream down my eyes, and he cups my cheek with his palm.
“You don’t have to tell me, Lune,” he says, kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“You also spend more time with him. I feel like I’m losing you, too,” I cry.
“What?” He pinches my cheeks. “You’re jealous?”
“Yes. You, Arthur, Fox, and Seraphina. All four of you are occupied with your relationships, and you’ve all forgotten me! You even take Cyrus stargazing, and he gets so bored, it’s not even fun anymore,” I whine. “He just sighs, and I feel like he’s waiting for me to leave so he can just... attack you with his- his whole body,” I shudder.
“He doesn’t attack me with his body. He usually just wants to go to sleep.”
“Lucien, does he even sit down with you, and have a proper conversation? Every time the two of you talk, he’s saying so many words and they don’t mean anything.”
“Yeeee...” he begins.
I can sense his struggle.
“No.”
“See? He doesn’t care about you, and I’m just watching all this from a distance.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about me. You don’t know everything!”
“Oh, Luce!” I say, in disbelief. “You can’t think that!”
“He’s a bad communicator.”
“If he’s bad, imagine me! I never want to talk, and I’m sure we have more meaningful conversations than the two of you.”
His mouth falls open, and I close it for him.
“I had to give you a truth potion!” He exclaims.
“And... that’s why you’re not in a relationship with me.”
“You’re not in a relationship with me because I’m an elf.”
“First, that’s not enough to deter me. Second, I’d love to be in a relationship with you, but you’re with Cyrus now, and I’m not about to ruin your happiness,” I gasp and cover my mouth.
“Would you really?”
“Well, of course. Have you seen yourself? Have you met yourself? You’re perfect,” I can’t stop myself.
His cheeks darken. “Luna... You’re...”
“And not to mention all the futures I’ve already imagined with you. Waking up at your side after- Please tell me to stop talking.”
“Stop talking. Don’t say anything you’ll regret later,” he clears his throat.
“I already regret everything I’ve just admitted to you, honestly.”
“Why?”
“Tell me not to kiss you.”
“What?”
“Say it!”
“Don’t... don’t kiss me.”
“Why did you hesitate?”
“Because I wouldn’t mind it. Your lips would probably taste like honey,” he says softly, staring at my lips.
“The potion has made us lose our minds! Let’s just finish this up, and never speak of this again.”
In the morning, I struggle through my classes, and get to the shop much later than intended. Madam Lyra is at the counter, happily mending a patch into her cloak when she spots me.
“Luna, you look awful!”
“I imagine Lucien doesn’t look much better,” I say, with a yawn and weary smile.
“Well, now that you mention it...”
“It’s alright. I just had a long day. Some potion preparations will feel like a... like a breath of fresh air compared to my summoning courses.”
“Summoning, bah!” Madam Lyra scoffs. “I don’t know when I’ll ever need a wood nymph or a... a spirit of the forest. In an emergency, perhaps, but by the time I finish, I’d be dead.”
“Luna made friends with a Shadowstalker when she was traveling here from Bellehaven,” shouts Lucien from the back room. “That’s useful.”
“It could be,” mutters Madam Lyra with a shrug. “I hope you don’t mind... and it’s not as if I’m abandoning you two every day, but...”
“Go,” I say encouragingly. “Go see Master Eaimer. I know he’s here for a visit.”
“He’s just such a...” she begins dreamily. “Well of know-”
“Enough excuses,” says Lucien. “We know you know that we know.”
Her cheeks go red. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet with him, Luna?”
“And cut into your private time? Why would I do such a dreadful thing to you? I’ll meet him eventually.”
“The task list is on the-”
“You’ll cover lun-”
“Of course!”
“And dinner?”
She sighs. “And dinner. But only for the two of you. The others don’t work here, and they don’t run my shop perfectly for me while I’m away.”
“Our names should be on the sign,” calls Lucien.
“Oooh, imagine it, Madam Lyra!” I exclaim, excitedly, enjoying the look of shock on her face. “Treeleaf, Moonshadow, and Masters.”
“Oh, the two of you! You’re cheeky. You’re lucky I tolerate you.”
She gets up from her seat, disappears into the back room, and reappears with her cloak and a small wrapped package. The door shuts before I get the opportunity to ask her what it is. I enter the back of the shop, hang up my cloak, and take down my apron, scanning the task list as I tie up my hair. Lucien’s face catches my eye, and I freeze in place. Something is different about it.
“Do you like it?” He smiles, and flutters his eyelashes at me.
“Like what?” I ask, looking over the task list.
“My... hair...” he blushes.
“Your-”
It’s all gone. His hair... His beautiful locks are much shorter, only reaching the back of his neck.
“LUCIEN! What happened?” I cry out, reaching out for it.
He winces, and laughs.
“I cut it, obviously,” he says, brushing my hand away.
“I can see that! But why?”
“I thought it was time. I haven’t been able to care for it properly, and it was getting too long. Does it look alright?”
“Oh!” I cry out, sadly. “How could you do such a thing? You didn’t have to cut it so short. If I’d known you were going to do that, I’d have volunteered to care for it myself.”
I run a hand over his head, and I’m surprised at how odd he looks.
“It’s just hair, Luna,” he pushes my hands away. “It’ll grow back. I’m sure it’ll reach its full length before the end of our examinations.”
“That’s not soon enough,” I pout, returning to my work.
“You’ll be fine.”
It’s a quiet, lazy morning in the shop, and Lucien and I are able to get most of our tasks completed without many distractions. Lucien seems to be moving around faster, and I wonder how much his hair actually weighed, but he no longer seems to glide across the floor, it’s more of a scurry.
“It wasn’t Cyrus, was it?” I ask, stirring one of the pots with a Whirlwind spell and a large ladle.
“What about him?”
“Did he make you cut your hair?”
He stands over my shoulder, and I turn back to look at him, pouting when he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. He bites his lip to keep from smiling. It drives me mad how hard he makes me fight the urge to kiss him.
“I didn’t know you were so attached to my hair. Should I be worried we won’t be friends anymore? Are you friends with me or my head?”
I roll my eyes, and return to my pot.
“No, Lucien,” I scoff. “It’s just hair.”
“Oh, good,” he chuckles. “I’ll find you when it becomes too much effort to care for next time.”
I wipe my hands off on my apron. Lucien does the same, and, staying an awkward few inches away from my face the whole way up, we get to our feet. I reach up to touch the ends of his hair, and tut.
“What about all your jewels?” I ask, searching his hair for them.
“I keep them on me. They’ve just been... refashioned,” he says, waving his ring-covered fingers at me, and pulling out a chained necklace with charms.
“I suppose I’ll just have to keep your lucky feather, then. At least until you have enough hair to wear it.”
“I was going to let you keep it, anyway.”
“Really? Don’t you need luck if you’re going to be chopping your hair off for some boyfriend you just got?”
“Luna, my friend, you sound a tad bitter.”
“I’m not bitter. I’m just mad that you cut off all your hair.”
Of course I’m bitter and jealous. I’m not an idiot.
“It’ll grow back, and you’ll laugh at yourself for getting so upset about it in the first place. I didn’t even cut it that much.”
“I’m not upset,” I pout. “And you did! You can’t even braid it in that state.”
He taps my nose with his finger, laughs, then carries on with his work.
We spend the rest of the morning working quietly with each other until lunch, when we’re forced to sit together and talk.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean... to be so stupid.”
“It’s fine, Lucien,” I murmur.
“Is that really how you solve all your problems? Just ignore them, and hope they go away? I’m sorry.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “I forgive you.”
“Forgive me? For what, exactly?”
“For...” I smirk at him. “For stupidly cutting all your hair. Especially for someone like Cyrus. If you ask me, you either have the wrong boyfriend if he doesn’t like your friends, or you have the wrong friends if they don’t like your boyfriend.”
“I guess I have the wrong friends.”
“Lucien!” I gasp, feigning shock. “You’re such a traitor.”
“You said it was one or the other.”
I play with a grape, rolling it across my plate several times before eating it. There’s an awkward silence and tension in the air as we sit there grasping for words to say to each other. I know he knows. I watch him open and close his mouth several times until he looks dejected. Is this my last chance, and I’m casting it away for the sake of not embarrassing myself? Is it his last chance, and he’s struggling just the same?
“You wouldn’t really choose him over us, would you?” I ask with mild concern.
“You’re so serious,” he murmurs, amused. “Should I be worried?”
“No, I jus...¦ I worry about you.”
“Luna, it’s just hair,” he sighs.
“You’re not wrong, but... how am I supposed to find you in a large crowd now?”
“I don’t know. Are the horns, red eyes, and pale, blue skin not enough for you?”
“You’re right, I can just look for your insanely large ears poking out above the crowds.”
“They’re not... that large are they?” He asks, covering his ears with his palms.
“I don’t know,” I hum. “After seeing Cyrus’ ears, I’d think you could hear the heavens.
“Dammit, Luna,” he sneers.
“Your ears are perfect, Luce.”
“That’s right. Yours are just too short.”
“Of course. Only one of us could be...”
“You can say it. I’m perfect.”
“I hate you.”
“Will you please, for once in your life, focus!” Shouts Lucien at Arthur. “I can’t spend the rest of the day teaching you this spell. I have to meet up with Cyrus before he leaves the city.”
“S-Sorry,” mumbles Arthur. “I just...”
Arthur stares around the room, tapping his foot nervously on the floor. His eyes settle on me.
“Luna, how does one know if someone is ready to settle down?”
Lucien and I exchange a puzzled glance, then hide our smiles.
“Is this about Seraphina?” I laugh.
“Fuck, is it obvious?” He rubs his face roughly with his hands, and runs them through his hair, making it stick out at all angles.
“It seems she’s always at the forefront of your mind lately,” I sing, glancing up at Lucien, who is trying to hide a smile.
“I want to marry her.. I think. What if she says no?”
“Arthur, you live together. She tolerates you better than anyone else. She hasn’t killed you despite being within such close proximity, with plenty of opportunities. I think she’ll say yes.”
“Do you think she’ll like this ring?” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a gold band with an emerald surrounded by diamonds.
I walk over to get a closer look, continuing to polish the silver knife in my hands.
“It’s delicate, and colorful, just like she is,” says Lucien.
“She’ll like it,” I say. “And not because it’s breathtakingly beautiful, but because she already likes you.”
He shoves the ring into his pocket when the shop door rings. Seraphina walks into the back room after greeting Madam Lyra. Madam Lyra has long given up trying to keep them out of the shop, only warning them that she won’t tolerate any slacking on Lucien’s and my part if they distract us.
“Arthur, are you ready for dinner?” She asks.
“Y-Yes,” he says, quickly getting to his feet.
“Was he a good student today?” She asks Lucien.
“The worst,” replies Lucien, seriously.
He fusses with Arthur’s hair, forcing it to lie flat. Arthur glares at him. Lucien struggles to remain serious, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Arthur pushes Lucien away, but misses him each time, as Lucien gracefully dodges him.
“Arthur! I told you not to give Lucien a hard time,” she whines. “Are the two of you coming?”
“No, no, noooo,” says Lucien. “I've got too much to do.”
Seraphina looks at me questioningly.
“I’m also busy with the same. Madam Lyra will make us scrub cacti again if we fall behind on work again.”
“Let’s go then, Arthur. We’ll talk about your lessons with Lucien later.”
When they leave, Lucien and I burst into a fit of giggles.
“She’s going to be stuck with him forever. Poor Seraphina,” laughs Lucien.
“I don’t know. He’s been... better lately. Almost likable, and... tolerable?”
“It’s as if he’s a new man.”
“I guess he’ll really be Arthur Ainsley soon. That has a nice ring to it.”
“It does,” he says, returning to his work of crushing some dry herbs into a fine powder.
I return to my polishing, when Lucien’s ears twitch. He rushes to the attic of the shop, vanishing into a curl of smoke. I focus my energy on integrating our work areas, as if I’d been on my own. When I’ve polished my last knife, someone walks into the back of the shop, and watches me. I peek up, and smile.
“Yes? Did Madam Treeleaf need something?”
I get to my feet, and bow politely at the stranger, taking in his messy appearance, and a shining dagger at his waist.
“Where’s the elf?” He snarls.
“Elf?” I ask, innocently. “What elf?”
“Don’t play dumb. Where did you hide him?”
“I don’t know what you-”
He shoves me aside, forcing me against the sharp edge of a counter, and running out into the garden through the back door. He’s angry when he returns, and knocks over the work table, sending all of the herbs and tools flying. I curse internally when I see he’s broken my favorite measuring scale.
“You better find out where he went when I return!” he shouts at Madam Treeleaf.
“You better save your threats for the city guards, then!” She shouts back. “Leave this shop immediately.”
I rush to the front of the shop, and watch him as he runs his hands along the shop shelves, leaving behind a trail of shattered glass behind him. When the door closes behind him, Madam Treeleaf glances at me, huffs, then pushes past me. She pulls her cloak over her shoulders, and stops at the door.
“Do not open this door for anybody,” she warns, holding a finger up to me. “Do you understand? I’ll be back.”
“Alright. I’ll clean this mess up.”
“Thank you.”
After I’ve swept up the glass, and the mess of powders and silverware, I pull the invisible cord attached to the seamless attic door, and make my way up the stairs with a cup of tea, and a small plate of cookies.
I find Lucien sleeping soundly under the warm light of the window, and I almost don’t want to wake him. He looks comfortable and angelic on his makeshift bed where he now sleeps, (since he’s no longer welcome in the Academy). His ear twitches, letting me know he’s already heard me come in.
“How much damage?” He asks, not opening his eyes.
“He stupidly went for all the cheap potions,” I say, with a weary smile, setting down the cup of tea, and cookies on his nightstand. “You’re not going to slack off for the rest of the day, are you?”
He sits up, puts his arms around me, and pull me down next to him. I prop myself on one arm, and look down at his smiling face.
“I brought you some tea,” I grin.
“I saw.”
“And some cookies from the bakery. Your favorite.”
He turns to the plate, then looks back at me, and opens his mouth.
“You’re not really expecting me to feed you, are you?”
“I’ve had an awful day,” he whines.
I sigh dramatically, and take a cookie off the plate, setting it on the nightstand. He opens his mouth, his cheeks flushed, and I can feel heat radiating off his body.
“I’ve always wondered,” I say, holding the cookie just far enough out of his reach. “How dark elves sleep with those horns. Doesn’t it bother you? Or are they just short enough for them not to interfere with your pillow?”
He smirks. “And why are you thinking about sleeping dark elves?”
“I’m not sure,” I say, taking a bite out of the cookie, and placing the rest of it in his mouth. “I suppose you could sleep on your side, but I’ve seen other dark elves-”
“Luna,” he sighs. “They can be shaped if it’s a bother.”
“Shaped?” I gasp.
“Yes. The only place they hurt is where they meet the head. We can feel pain there.”
“I see,” I say, tapping the base of his horn, until he brushes my hand away in annoyance.
I stare out the window in search of distraction, finding a shop owner across the way sweeping the walkway in front of his shop with a broom that looks like it’s seconds from falling apart. Lucien reaches over me, and takes another cookie off the plate. He eats one, stuffs one in my mouth, and takes another into his hand just before lying back in his bed again.
“You’re daydreaming again,” he states. “What about?”
I look down at him, and smile, as I watch him eat yet another cookie.
“Hmm,” I say, finishing off my own. “I’m just tired. My spells have been quite difficult.”
“Do you need help?”
“I’ll be fine,” I sigh, settling down at his side.
“Are you sure?” He asks, putting one arm around me, and pulling me closer.
“I’m sure,” I say, fighting the urge to nuzzle up against him.
“Are you sure, Luna?” He asks more seriously.
I look up at him, and the look of worry on his face makes my heart race. He smiles, and I know he can hear my heart pounding in my chest. I wish he wouldn’t insist on toying with me.
“I’m absolutely sure. Once I’ve given up, I’ll just send a letter to Master Eaimer.”
“Really? Master Eaimer? Why would you do that when I’m right here?”
“He’s better at teaching.”
Lucien’s expression softens, and his gaze falls to my mouth. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” I laugh, sitting up, now staring at his lips.
I feel hot and uncomfortable, and I need to leave before I do something I’ll regret.
“Try not to slack off all day, alright, Luce?”
“I won’t.”