CHAPTER 38: IS THIS LOVE?

I’d like to tell you that Lyra and I took our sudden eviction with grace. That we accepted our loss, regrouped back at the inn, and spent our night considering what our next steps were. Considering the revelation that Isobel was already strong enough to be a decent threat to us, paired with the fact that we may have accidentally pushed her to join with the Demon Lord ahead of schedule, that was the smartest thing we could do–plan for what comes next and prepare for the inevitable.

We could’ve done that. We could’ve attempted to persuade Mr. Shaw to leave the Adventurer’s Guild to train us before the Order of Paladins could get to him. We could’ve left for Eshil and attempted to reunite the Aspian Quartet. We even could’ve used Lyra’s time magic to send us back a few hours to completely undo the mistake we made! Sure, Lyra would’ve been out of commission for a few days, but we had years for her to recover. Point is, we had options!

As Lyra and I stood outside of House Greaves dressed in our finest clothes, each carrying a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other, I considered each of those options well. We did a few 3 and 4-Star Quests earlier to put some money in our pockets, then used it to pay for the gifts we carried, as well as the Bard quartet behind us who’d been singing some love song I wasn’t fully paying attention to.

This whole idea was Lyra’s, of course. After trying and failing to convince her to send us back in time, she somehow managed to convince me that this situation was still salvageable.

"Why put myself out like that when we can still fix this?" She’d said. "She hasn’t formally cancelled the sale, so that means there’s still a chance to win her over!"

Which led us to this moment: standing outside of House Greaves with gifts in hand, hoping Isobel would hear the Bards and come find us, ready to at least listen to our apology and explanation.

To my surprise, the door actually opened after about two hours of this nonsense. Isobel was dressed in her usual all-black attire with light makeup. Her hair was down and slightly damp. It was dark, so I could only assume she’d just finished her nighttime routine.

Isobel was visibly displeased as she looked between Lyra and me. Her arms were crossed, her brow furrowed, and her eyes narrowed. "What are you two doing?"

Lyra and I stepped forward, but she stopped us from climbing the stairs with a hand.

"We’re here to apologize," Lyra said.

"We brought gifts," I added, presenting the items in my hand to her.

Isobel tilted her head. "Poisoned, I assume? I’m sure that would make your lives a lot easier."

"No, they’re not poisoned," I assured. "Unless you’re allergic to tree nuts. Or coconut... Or pistachio."

Isobel snorted derisively before rolling her eyes. "I don’t want gifts from anyone plotting my demise. Besides, I have a busy day tomorrow. I’d rather not be kept awake by sugar." She chinned up at the Bards. "Or singing."

Lyra and I shared a defeated look before leaving our gifts at the foot of the stairs. We weren’t reaching her tonight.

"We don’t want to disturb you, Lyra. Have a nice night."

"You–" Isobel started, but she stopped herself. She winced, a hint of emotion reaching her eyes. Was it anger? Annoyance? Sadness? It’d vanished too fast for me to gain a clear picture. "Do not come back. You are not welcome here."

***

DAY SIX

I didn’t sleep too well last night, and judging by the bags under her eyes, neither did Lyra. Maybe it was because we’d gotten used to the far more comfortable beds at House Greaves, or, far more likely, because we knew we were in such a shit position. More than that, though, there was a pain in my chest that I couldn’t explain. It started when I’d heard her cry by herself, and got worse when she gave us that pained expression last night. What faces was she making now? How much had she cried by herself last night?

After silently going through my morning routine, I rested in the loveseat at the corner of the room as Lyra, as she always did when she was stressed, paced about the room, muttering to herself.

"What’re you thinking about?" I asked.

"This is what she does! It’s what she does! She puts people at her mercy so that she can control them! She loves being in control!"

"Yeah, I know," I sighed.

"I bet you do!"

"I’m not talking about that. Isobel herself alluded to it when we first met. She enjoys being in control of things that happen around her. She doesn’t like being pushed around by the whims of fate. It isn’t necessarily because she’s secretly the Demon Queen. I think she’s just that kind of woman."

"Don’t sound too in love," Lyra accused.

I sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Was that what this was? Love? It would explain why I’d been so lenient with her. Why I’d looked past all of the obvious signs that something was up. Why I saw those little "slip-ups" as cute and not annoying. Love was blinding. Terribly blinding, because I found myself missing all of that. Her little shenanigans during Quests, her arguments with Lyra, her lavender patchouli perfume, her warmth, her presence... God, I missed Isobel.

"Sorry about that," I finally answered. "I’m just... I feel bad. I know she planned on fucking us over, and she should be more open with us, but... she isn’t the kind of woman to do something like that without reason. Isobel has to have a reason for that."

Lyra sighed, sitting at the edge of her bed with one leg over the other. "Lloyd, you know what you saw..."

"I know. I saw the plans. I felt her power. Her actual power. Still, she’s just..."

"You’re in love with her?"

I didn’t answer for a while, allowing her to take my silence as confirmation. Lyra gingerly stood from the bed, grabbed my hand, and led me to sit beside her on the bed. Once I got there, she wrapped her arms around my shoulder, allowing me to rest in hers. Moments like this made me feel like I was a damn child again, but God did I need the comfort. For just a brief moment, the pain in my chest subsided.