Chapter 14 Peace offering
“Y-yes… this… this wound,” she stammered. “I don’t know… it just disappeared. Perhaps the magic of that blade had something to do with it."
Sweat prickled along her skin, and her head began to spin. How could she be so bad at lying?
Eli studied her for a moment longer before finally saying, “I’ll go fetch firewood. Do not leave the cottage.”
His response stunned Lyriel.
She watched him close the door, then let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Sinking to the floor, she clutched her chest as her heart raced. That wasn’t what she had expected. She had thought he would question her further, call her an evil spirit or worse. The relief that washed over her was far beyond words.
When Eli returned, he dropped the firewood by the side and closed the windows, as it was already dark outside. He walked over to the bed where Lyriel was sleeping, his gaze softening. She looked so innocent, like a child.
He bent over to her level and removed a few strands of hair from her face.
“Goodnight, Lyriel.”
The next morning, Eli woke to the sharp sting of smoke clawing at his throat. He coughed, eyes snapping open. He looked around for a while, utterly confused about what was going on.
His heart immediately leaped to the worst possibilities. He pushed himself off the bed and instinctively stumbled toward the kitchen door. The moment he swung it open, a wave of gray smoke rolled past him, and he froze.
There, in the middle of his kitchen, stood Lyriel. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes watery from the smoke, and in front of her, his frying pan sat on the mud stove. Whatever was inside had burnt so badly that even the frying pan itself had started to burn.
She stared at it sadly, sorry that such a fine pan was now useless.
Eli blinked once. Twice.
He wasn’t sure if he should shout… or cry.
“Lyriel!” he yelled, rushing over to the stove and throwing the frying pan to the floor with his bare hands. Lyriel looked at him, surprised and worried about his hands.
“Don’t use your bare hands, it’s very hot!” she panicked.
Eli looked at her, expecting some kind of explanation for his burnt pan.
“What are you doing?”
She didn’t look at him at first. Her small hands tightened around the edge of the table, then she whispered, barely audible, “Cooking… a peace offering.”
Eli stared, utterly confused.
“You’re always shouting at me. I thought… if I made you breakfast… maybe you wouldn’t send me away.”
Eli’s jaw clenched, not in anger at her, but at himself. At how fragile she sounded. At how she looked like a child caught in a storm she didn’t understand.
She actually thought he’d throw her out?
Is that truly how she saw him?
He shut his eyes for a moment, breathing out slowly so he wouldn’t snap. He approached her, keeping his voice gentle even though frustration simmered under his skin.
“Lyriel… that is not cooking,” he said, pointing at the blackened lump. “That is… burning. You didn’t just burn the food, Lyriel. You burnt my pan!”
She blinked up at him, guilt swimming in her eyes.
“But since you’ve already ruined it,” he sighed, “I’ll make breakfast.”
He carried the ruined pan outside, disappointed at the universe for putting him through this. He set up firewood and started preparing soup, chopping vegetables with practiced motions. It calmed him. It always did.
But then he heard soft footsteps behind him.
Lyriel.
She sat beside him on the ground without a word, folding her legs neatly. He didn’t tell her to help. He didn’t even look at her. But she watched everything he did, eyes wide and attentive. When he added spices, she leaned forward curiously and when he tasted it, she mirrored his expression.
Eli watched her, amazed at her curiosity. He never expected she would like cooking. Finally, he handed her the spoon.
“Your turn,” he muttered.
Her face lit up as if he had just handed her the moon. She stirred the soup slowly and winced as the steam touched her hands. Eli took the spoon from her and continued stirring the pot.
“How are you able to stir it confidently without feeling the steam?” she asked curiously as she sat down on the ground, keeping a safe distance between herself and the pot.
“Years of practice,” he replied, all his concentration on the food.
Lyriel looked at him, then grinned to herself. She desperately wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if she should. For some reason, Eli looked happy and normal that morning, unlike his rude self. It made her doubt if he would actually send her out as Mira had told her… at least not anytime soon.
“So…” she began, smiling widely at Eli, “Do you accept my peace offering?”
“No. You practically burnt my pan,” he replied, and Lyriel’s smile faded instantly.
“So… what does that mean?” She fiddled with her fingers.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Will you send me out of your house?” she asked. Eli turned to look at her, furrowing his brows.
“What makes you think I would send you out of my house? Is it about the pan?”
“No, it’s just that… you’ve been very rude to me and absent from home. It was very obvious that you don’t… you don’t want me in your house.” She looked down at the floor, appearing as innocent as possible. If she must remain in Eli’s house, she definitely had to be a good girl and win his heart.
Eli sighed and returned to stirring the pot and adding more spices. Lyriel pouted, thinking she had finally angered him, but his next words surprised her.
“You really want to know where I go every day?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m curious to know!” Lyriel leaned forward.
“Well, I can’t tell you,” Eli smirked when he saw her frown. “But I have a royal banquet to attend next week. You can come with me if you want to.”
“A royal banquet?!” Her eyes lit up. It sounded familiar, she must have read about it somewhere in the library at Eloria. It must be some kind of party done at a royal palace.
“At a royal palace!?” she exclaimed again, her heart refusing to believe what her brain was thinking.
“Yes,” Eli replied simply.
But she screamed suddenly, startling him.
“No way! A royal palace? I would meet your king and queen?”
Eli watched her glow with excitement at the mention of a royal banquet. She was far too innocent to be thrilled about something that would only draw danger closer, far too trusting of someone like him. But what choice did he have? The path ahead was set, and he could already see the ruin waiting for them. All he could hope for was her forgiveness… someday.
“…but I don’t even have a dress!” Lyriel’s voice fell, only just realizing she’d been wearing Eli’s clothes for days.
Eli burst out laughing, catching her off guard.