4. Chapter 4 #3
Nothing about Onyx makes sense. He serves the king, yet the people of Lycar greet him like an old friend returning home.
They don’t look at him the way people in Elvora look at the Shadow Guard.
There are no frightened glances. No hurried attempts to get out of his way.
No whispered prayers asking the gods to keep him moving.
If anything, they seem happy to see him.
The contradiction bothers me more than it should.
He took me from my village and is leading me toward a fate I still don’t understand.
He refuses to answer half of my questions and answers the other half with sarcasm.
Yet he has protected me, and true to his word, no harm has come to me.
The farther we travel into Lycar, the less certain I become of anything.
What I do know is that the world seems much bigger than I thought it was.
And maybe I don’t know nearly as much as I always believed I did.
* * *
By the time we reach the center of town, my understanding of Solaris has been thoroughly and rudely overturned.
Lycar is thriving, but not in the traditional sense.
Not exactly—but it’s not dying either, and they have something that Elvora severely lacks—hope.
Somehow, that feels far more dangerous than despair.
Because hope means the stories might be wrong.
Hope means there are truths I do not understand, and that I may have judged an entire continent based on fear—and I’m not ready to decide what that says about me. Not yet, anyway.
Thankfully, the scent of food saves me from thinking too deeply.
An inn stands near the center of town, an old wooden sign hanging haphazardly over the window, advertising: Otto’s Inn: Bed & Breakfast. I stare at it for a moment, shifting my eyes to the warm golden light spilling through the open windows.
Laughter drifts from inside, followed by the smell of fresh bread, roasted meat, and stew.
The smell is rich enough to make my body remember it needs food to survive.
My stomach growls so loudly I nearly die from embarrassment and turn my head, hoping Onyx didn’t hear it.
Beside me, a sly smile crosses his face, but he says nothing.
“You heard nothing,” I say, my eyes shooting daggers at him, not ready for another sarcastic remark from him.
“I hear everything. You sound like you’ve missed more meals than eaten them.”
“You know what? I actually hate you, Onyx.”
“No, you don’t.”
Unfortunately, he sounds entirely too confident about that…
and he might be right. I hate him, but I don’t exactly hate him.
The more time I spend with him, the harder it is to dislike him entirely.
For taking me? Yes. That’s completely justified.
But general character flaws—I can’t say I can judge him based on that.
Yes, he’s a sarcastic asshole. But he seems to be a good man otherwise.
Then again …. I know looks can be deceiving.
The front door opens before we reach it, and a broad man with a thick gray beard steps outside. His grin widens the moment he sees Onyx. “Well, I’ll be damned. Look who the cat dragged in!”
The man pats Onyx on the back as his eyes twinkle with genuine happiness, as if he’s greeting an old friend. For all I know, they are old friends.
Onyx sighs. “Hello, Otto.”
“Ah, hello Onyx! I thought that ugly horse looked familiar.”
The man laughs loudly, then his gaze lands on me as one eyebrow climbs.
I flush with embarrassment, because I know that look.
Curiosity. But not fear, and that makes my heart calm down a little.
Curiosity is easier to accept than condescending stares and whispers.
No one here has blinked an eye at my silver hair, and I appreciate that more than I ever thought I would.
“Hello! I’m Lyra.” I greet him enthusiastically, because he has the kindest blue eyes. The kind that look as if he genuinely enjoys company and doesn’t know a stranger and that is exactly what I need right about now.
Otto looks delighted as he grins widely. “Well hello, mistress! What are you doing with this creature?” He jabs a thumb in Onyx’s direction while chuckling softly. Onyx does not seem amused—no shock there.
“I keep asking myself the same question. I’ll let you know when I have an answer.”
His grin widens. “I like her already, Onyx. She has fire!”
“I don’t care,” Onyx mutters.
“Hmmmm…interesting.” Otto scratches at his gray beard, eyes twinkling mischievously as he watches the stare-down between Onyx and me.
Heat floods my face, though I’m not entirely sure why.
I play it off by running a hand through my silver curls, attempting to detangle what I’m sure is a mess.
Otto steps aside and gestures dramatically toward the entrance.
“Come inside before you both freeze to death. You can glare at each other over supper.”
When we step in, warmth spills across my skin as we cross the threshold.
And despite everything—despite the unanswered questions, despite the man beside me who still refuses to tell me where we are going, despite the fact that I am being delivered to a king who apparently wants me badly enough to send soldiers after me—I feel something I have not felt since leaving Elvora.
I feel relief.