Tag: fantasy

Two ice cream sundaes on a café table beside a rainy window
Of Ice and Flowers

Of Ice and Flowers chapter 2

Autumn
Romantic book cover titled “Ice Cream and Bad Decisions,” showing a young couple sharing ice cream while the woman reads a note with a phone number.

“Hang on, let me check my phone,” Iris laughed as she playfully pushed against Justin, then she reached into her purse. She frowned when her hand closed around a napkin along with her phone, and she became absorbed in it as she stared down at the numbers written on it.

“What’s that?” Justin asked, peering curiously.

“It’s a girl’s phone number,” Iris replied, bewildered. She had wanted to forget that moment in the coffee shop, and had gotten close to achieving it, too. But now that she was looking at a reminder of her meeting with Lotus, she wondered why.

“Ooo, I didn’t know you swung that way,” he teased, ruffling Iris’s hair. “Is she hot?”

Iris batted his hand away. “She’s insanely hot, Justin,” she replied sarcastically. “A real femme fatale, who has a penchant for chai at your favorite cafe. That’s where I met her.”

“See? I told you that you needed to check that place out.” Justin laughed. “Are you going to call her? She sounds like someone I want to meet.”

“I don’t know …” Iris bit her lip. “I mean, honestly, if I did swing that way then I’d be all over her, but …” She shrugged. “It didn’t seem like she was interested in me like that anyway.”

“She wrote her phone number on a napkin for you, Iris. If that doesn’t scream of a desperate bid for attention, then I don’t know what would. At least call her once. Use my phone if you’re worried about safety.” Justin reached into his pocket. “Do it for me? Pretty please? I’d love to see you settled before I graduate.”

Iris gave him a shove. “I’m waiting for the right person, Justin. Lay off, okay?”

“Okay, okay!” Justin held his hands up. “But I have to tell you … Lacie doesn’t like that I hang out with you. She thinks I’m cheating.”

“I keep telling you to break up with her,” Iris muttered, trembling as she unlocked her phone.

“I think about it,” Justin replied more solemnly. “Hell, I’m avoiding her right now. Tell you what, if napkin girl isn’t crazy and if she isn’t a lesbian, then I’ll take her. I’ll dump Lacie and napkin girl will be my responsibility.” He winked.

“You’re terrible!” Iris rolled her eyes, then held out her phone and the napkin. “Can you tell me if I entered the number in correctly? I’m ridiculously nervous right now.”

“Yup!” Justin hit the dial button, then grinned as he handed the phone back to Iris.

Iris’s eyes went wide and she held her phone up to her ear, turning away. She held her breath as she listened to it ring.

“Hello?”

Iris wasn’t sure if she recognized the voice. “Uh, hi! Is this Lotus?”

“Speaking,” the voice replied. “Is this Iris then?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Iris.” She forced a tight laugh. “So, um, I’m here with Justin, and he said that he wants to meet you. Are you available to hang out sometime?”

“I’m available right now. We could meet for ice cream.”

Iris turned to look at Justin. “Do you want to meet her for ice cream?”

“Duh yes!”

“Yeah, we can go for ice cream right now. I guess there’s that place across the street from the cafe. We can get there in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll meet you there. Oh, and Iris … thank you for calling. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

“Yeah.” Iris hung up, then realized that her hands were shaking. She put her phone away in her purse, then balled them into fists to keep them steady. “Well Justin, you’re getting your wish. Are you happy?”

“Ecstatic.” He put his arm around Iris’s shoulders. “I’m envisioning a future of cake batter flavored ice cream for myself. What about you? Peanut butter fudge again? You’re paying, right?”

Iris shook her head. “You wanted to meet Lotus, so you’re paying. Fair’s fair!” she stuck her tongue out, then laughed nervously as she dug through her purse for her car keys.

Image generated using AI, words 100% mine.

Steaming coffee cup beside a frosted window with a purple lotus
Of Ice and Flowers

Of Ice and Flowers chapter 1

Autumn
A woman in a purple dress with floral patterns sits at a café, holding a drink, while another woman in a white blouse stands nearby. The background features elegant decor and greenery, with the title 'Of Ice and Flowers' displayed prominently.

Lotus pursed her lips around the end of her straw and took a sip, her eyes fixed intently on the back of a young woman who was staring up at the menu board of the cafe. Lotus set her iced chai down, and unconsciously gripped the hem of her skirt around her thighs. For a second she closed her eyes.

I found her, Shangri-la!

The woman’s cheery voice began her order, and Lotus wondered how she was going to approach her. Part of her wanted to be blunt, but a sense in the back of her mind said that she shouldn’t approach a stranger cold with an offer like, “Would you like to transform into an animal?” However, time was running short as the barista turned to prepare the coffee, and Lotus had to do something to gain her attention …

The cafe door opened and a breeze rushed inside, billowing through Lotus’s long auburn hair with an unusual warmth then passing on to tickle the back of the woman’s neck. She stiffened, then turned. Their eyes met, and Lotus smiled.

Thank you, Shangri-la.

The woman paused, then turned to accept her coffee from the barista. She stood hesitating for a moment, then walked over to Lotus’s table. “Uh, hi,” she said with forced cheerfulness that didn’t cover for the awkwardness underneath. “Have I seen you around campus? You look familiar.”

“Probably not.” Lotus rested her chin on her palm. “But I agree, something about you seems familiar. Maybe we’ve passed by each other here before.”

“This is actually my first time here.” The woman raised her cup slightly. “Justin swore it was worth it, so here I am!” Her voice finished on a tight high-pitched note.

“Then maybe it’s fate.” Lotus laughed slightly, but her eyes were carefully studying the woman’s reaction. “My favorite is the chai, both hot and cold. Next time, you should try that.”

“Thank you, I think I will.” The woman’s cheeks were starting to turn red, and Lotus could sense that she was preparing to disengage as her weight shifted backward.

“Do you go to the college then?” Lotus asked. “I want to enroll next semester, but I’m not exactly a brave sort and I don’t know anyone around here. It would be nice to start with one friend.”

“Oh, yeah.” The woman reached down into her purse to pull out her phone, and she stared at the screen without touching it. “I’m sure that Justin and I could give you a tour of the campus. I remember how much the small things help.”

“I would deeply appreciate that.” Lotus reached into her own purse and pulled out a pen, then plucked a napkin out of the dispenser on the table. “Here’s my phone number,” she said as she wrote it on the napkin. “Is Justin your boyfriend?”

“Oh, no. No. We’re not …” the woman shook her head and trailed off. “I’m sorry, but I do need to get going.”

“I shouldn’t keep you.” Lotus held out the napkin. “My name is Lotus, by the way. It’s been very nice to meet you.”

“I’m Iris.” She hesitantly took the napkin. “It’s been nice to meet you, too. I hope that you have a nice day.”

“See you, Iris,” Lotus said with a smile, then turned back to sip at her drink. Iris stuffed the napkin into her purse with her phone, then hurried out of the cafe, awkwardly bumping into the door as she did so.

It’s definitely her, Shangri-la. I found your key.

Author’s disclaimer: Artwork was generated with AI then edited in Canva by me. Words are 100% mine.

Stories

Concept Story – Astra & Corin

Autumn

I’m experimenting with file sharing between devices and also testing out a new compact keyboard (which mostly feels normal except for some of those middle keys), so I wrote this. Because why learn with boring content when you can exercise your creativity?

This is the same idea that I wrote about here with this concept story, only I like the new names better and I am now more mature as a person. 😆

Also, between you and me, the AI generated picture for this story is hilarious. 🤣

Astra hefted Corin on her back, her eyes locked on the boughs of the pine tree above them. She adjusted the four-year-old’s grip around her neck, but his arms squeezed uncomfortably tight. “Hey,” she whispered. “Let me breathe, will you?” She tugged at his arm again. “I’m going to run to that house over there, so you need to be good for me, okay?”

Corin remained silent and his arms stayed stubbornly in place. Astra glanced towards the house and gave herself permission to briefly feel scared that the front door would be locked despite the broken windows, then her eyes went back to the pine tree branches.

“When They start to move away, that’s when I’ll run. They won’t see us, I promise.” She felt the four-year-old’s face press into her back, so she reached to pat his head. “You know that I’d never let anything bad happen to you, right? We’re going to be okay. They won’t see us.”

The thought that Corin believed and trusted her made Astra feel more certain in herself. She wouldn’t fail him, no matter what – she’d find a way to keep her word and preserve the innocence that had been entrusted into her care. She wouldn’t allow herself any other options.

Besides, Corin’s half-brother wouldn’t forgive her if something happened to the child, and sometimes Astra thought that she was more afraid of him than of Them.

“Okay … Okay …” Astra closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, then her hands clamped Corin’s legs against her sides and she jogged as best as she could towards the house. She forced herself to keep her eyes on the ground to ensure her footing through the overgrown grass, rather than checking the sky to see if They had noticed. The clearing felt impossibly long. Her heart beat harder with the fear that she had made the wrong decision with every footstep, until finally her legs strained as she darted up the steps of the house. The front door opened easily, allowing them into safety.

Stories

Concept Story -Cognitive Robot

Autumn

This is what I originally imagined ages ago when I first came up with CR1515 as a character.

Writing currently feels like scraping the sides of a peanut butter jar — I know there’s enough there for a sandwich, but I sure have to work for it.

Every day was a series of tasks as people with tablets watched and took notes. Cognitive Robot 1515 performed as directed, beginning with following basic orders then progressing to solving challenges and puzzles. Sometimes he worked on mazes, word searches, and Sudoku. Other times he was instructed to perform mundane tasks, like placing a wrapper into a lidded garbage can then taking the entire bag out. Always with people watching, always with tablets.

Early on they had attempted to engage him in conversation, but he hadn’t responded to negative inputs in a satisfactory manner. They had completed an emergency shut down, then their eyes had been glued downwards on their tablets as CR1515 rebooted, and someone muttered about working out the bugs.

From then on, the only words spoken to him were instructions.

But CR1515 was a learning robot, and he was learning about more than the tasks given to him. He listened to them talking to each other, about him, about their homes and families, about their thoughts and emotions. He absorbed every word, then accessed the file at night when he was alone in his charging station to replay it and wonder. The lab was the only world he knew, but they lived somewhere bigger that intrigued him yet seemed too distant to experience himself.

The days began to feel strange, as if the tasks weren’t the main purpose of his existence anymore, as if something else was supposed to happen instead. But what? He was content with each completion, content to silently listen, and content to recharge when the day was through. That indefinable notion that had infiltrated his algorithms had formed a hollow space inside of his circuitry, and he kept its existence silently to himself.

Every day continued to be a series of tasks as people with tablets watched and took notes. He tracked the passage of time with no attachment to the number, and continued to learn.

Runemaster

Runemaster 3.1

Autumn

Malachi was all that anyone ever talked about. Lyra spent the next couple of days listening as women buzzed about him, excitedly conversing about how the Runemaster was helping to heal the sick, cure bad habits, and comfort the broken hearted. Lyra still hadn’t seen him since he had asked her to repair the hem of his cloak, and the smallest part of her was starting to feel left out.

She was among the broken hearted, wasn’t she? Why didn’t he care enough to provide his services to her?

Lyra knew that he had tried, and she had chased him away. Otherwise, perhaps she would be contributing her two cents about Malachi, instead of silently listening to everyone else talk about him. Why had she done that?

He must have taken it personally, she thought to herself. She had been rude and dismissive with him every time they had crossed paths, and after she had gone out of her way to drop off the cloak at the boarding house rather than wait for him to pick it up himself, he had good reason to think that she was avoiding him. Rather, because she had been avoiding him.

Lyra was beginning to regret it.

What was it about Malachi that everyone liked? It hurt to be left out – at least, that was what she told herself. She imagined that he was constantly surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans, all laughing and hugging him as they thanked him for his latest spell, and her chest grew tighter. What would have happened if she had let him stay when he had asked? What if she had listened to his reassuring voice and let him cast his runes for her sake instead of acting so defensive … then she could have found out what it was that everyone was so enamored with, instead of being left to guess.

But despite her growing curiosity, she was also extremely anxious about running into him again, certain that she had given him good reason to dislike her.

Another evening came around, and Lyra found herself working late in the dressmaker shop, sewing lace onto a pretty blue dress by the light of a lamp. She hated walking home in the dark, but with the garment due to be picked up early the next day, she didn’t have the luxury of waiting until the morrow. The stars were out by the time she stepped outside and locked the door behind her. She walked down the empty street and looked up at the pale moon, then despite feeling silly over it, she couldn’t help but wonder if Malachi was looking up at that moment as well.

Lyra halted when she thought that she had seen a flicker of movement beyond the line of trees, but after staring for a moment, she decided that it was simply a trick of her eyes. But her nerves were now shot. Her mind had begun to race with fears, and she was helpless to make it stop. She picked up the pace, determined to make it home as quickly as possible, wishing that her house wasn’t so close to the forest. There was no one around to judge her for hurrying.

Unexpectedly, there was a small cough, and her head snapped around to find Malachi crouched a few feet away just off the side of the road, almost completely hidden in the darkness. He made no move to approach her, but merely sat quietly and calmly, as if in a deep reverie.

“The stars are rather lovely tonight,” he said softly.

She swallowed hard. “W-What are you doing here?” she demanded, trying to hide her fear. The last thing she wanted was for Malachi to know how much she was trembling, so she took a step back, hoping that the darkness would shield her from his gaze.

He tilted his head, but Lyra couldn’t see his expression as he replied, “Perhaps I am here to show you a star that you haven’t yet seen.”

She took another step back, wishing to get home and lock herself inside.

Why was she always fleeing from him?

“I’ve seen all the stars,” Lyra replied, her voice quivering. “I’m sorry Master, but I’m on my way home. I just … was surprised by you, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” Malachi’s tone was almost teasing, and Lyra’s eyes widened in surprise. Had he been playing with her? Her hands were sweating and she had to remind herself to breathe.

“Yes …” she hesitated, then asked timidly, “Do you like the trim on your cloak?” She felt about ready to faint now, wondering why she had spoken the question out loud when she was so terrified of a negative response – when she was already so close to the edge of what she could handle. She felt compelled to cover up her nervousness, and began babbling, “I put in a lot of extra care when I sewed it on. I hope that my stitching is adequate … and that you feel that you got your money’s worth.”

She watched as the stranger tilted his head again, the pale moonlight illuminating his features in an otherworldly light. He said nothing as he looked at her, then finally asked, “May I read your fortune, Miss Lyra?”

Lyra wanted to say “no” and be done with him, but instead she found herself stepping forward and nodding. She had spent a couple of days listening to everyone else gush about how wonderful Master Malachi was, and she thought that if she rejected him once again, she would be permanently left out. She wanted to see the Runemaster’s work for herself.

Runemaster

Runemaster 2.1

Autumn

Lyra sorted through the dressmaker’s orders to place the day’s highest priorities on top as she listened to the rhythmic snipping of Mrs. Elwood’s shears, and the thought crossed her mind that she liked those quiet busy moments best of all. She supposed that one day – assuming she didn’t get married first – the responsibility of sales and customer support would fall on her once she opened her own shop, and she hoped that she would feel more equipped to handle the responsibility in the future. For the moment, she liked being the assistant, without having to think too hard about anything.

“Hello! How may I help you?” Mrs. Elwood called out cheerily, and Lyra carefully tucked the orders into a slot on the top of their “business desk,” as they liked to call it.

“I seem to have snagged the hem of my cloak,” a deep yet all too familiar voice answered, and Lyra’s head snapped around, her heart leaping up into her throat.

“Allow me to take a look, Master,” Mrs. Elwood replied in a voice that was far more saccharine than Lyra thought becoming of a widowed woman. She avoided looking at Malachi, instead quietly making her way towards the backroom in what she hoped was a subtle get-away, knowing all the while that he had already seen her. “Oh yes, the stitching has been pulled out, and there’s a hole torn in the fabric as well. Lyra! Come here, please.”

Lyra’s heart sank, but she turned around and forced a smile. “Good morning, Master Malachi,” she echoed Mrs. Elwood’s tone, though she couldn’t keep the edge of sarcasm at bay.

“Would you find trimming to match Master Malachi’s cloak? We could easily patch the hole for you, but I think that the best solution would be to put a new hem on entirely. The repair would be entirely invisible.”

“I trust your expert judgment, madame.” Malachi smiled back at Mrs. Elwood, and Lyra swallowed down the embarrassment at having to silently watch a Runemaster flirt with her employer.

“Mrs. Elwood,” Lyra ventured timidly, “You have a fitting in two hours, and the dress has yet to be basted.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, Master, but I must get back to my work. Lyra here will assist you, and I assure you that she is very bright and talented. Your cloak will be better than new.” Mrs. Elwood smiled broadly, then retreated back to her cutting table to continue working.

Lyra examined the damaged hem, then murmured, “The tailor is just down the street, Master, if you would feel more comfortable in an establishment that is more suited to male clientele.”

“Hmm … but you don’t work over there, do you.” He grinned, and Lyra couldn’t stop the flush that colored her cheeks.

“I don’t know what I did to gain your attention, Master,” she replied with false politeness, “but I have no intention of responding to your advances. It would be in your better interests to move on.”

“You misunderstand!” Malachi chuckled as he removed his cloak and handed it to Lyra. “I am not pursuing you romantically at all.”

“And yet here you are,” Lyra replied tersely. She took the cloak and retreated to the back room, to search through their supplies to make the repair. She couldn’t quite place the fabric, but it was some sort of warm velveteen and Lyra compulsively touched it to her cheek before she stopped herself. Her training as a dressmaker took over then, and she knew exactly which trim she wanted to line the bottom with. She retrieved it and hurried out to seek Malachi’s approval for the project that was blossoming in her mind.

“We would need to order in matching fabric,” she said as soon as she was back in the Runemaster’s presence, “but I think that this would be a beautiful accent that would far surpass an invisible repair.” She presented the roll of trim to him, which consisted of thick metallic threads expertly tied in an swirl of knots and cords. It had taken Lyra’s breath away when she had first unboxed it, and she had been waiting for the project that would give her the opportunity to work with it. Somehow she doubted that the cost would be a problem for Master Malachi.

He took it from her hands and studied it closely, rubbing the end between his fingers and holding it up to the light. “You’re correct, Lyra. This would be an elegant addition to my cloak … assuming it holds up well in my travels.”

“I assure you that the metal threads are quite strong, and they would hold up well against the dirt and mud of the road,” she almost purred, subconsciously slipping into the same mannerisms that Mrs. Elwood used to drive a big sale. The idea of spending the next hour stitching that trim onto the soft fabric of Malachi’s cloak was too tantalizing to let slip away.

“It might also inspire bandits,” Malachi replied, then gave Lyra a sly wink. “But I would be a fool to turn away the magic that you are offering me. Yes, Lyra, I will order this trim for the repair.”

“Allow me to measure out the length of your hem, and I will write up your receipt for you. The work will be done this afternoon.” Lyra couldn’t suppress the smile that bubbled out from the center of her chest. She had taken the job at the dressmaker’s purely to make ends meet after her father had died, but the process and materials had grown on her in the weeks since, and for the first time she felt deeply excited about this project.

It didn’t matter that it was for Master Malachi, she told herself. It didn’t matter that he had visited their shop specifically for her, either. She repeated that to herself after he had left, and she worked intently on his cloak, carefully applying the trim with her neatest stitches, savoring the soft fabric that rested in her hands.

It didn’t matter at all.

Runemaster, Stories

Runemaster 1.2

Autumn

The gossip about Master Malachi continued through the rest of the day. Through her silent assistance in Mrs. Elwood’s work, Lyra felt that she had learned everything there was to know about the mysterious stranger that had wandered into their town. He was a Runemaster, skilled but soft spoken, trading his services in divination and healing for very little. “A man of the Old Gods who understood the challenges of modern life,” a particularly chittery client had gushed, before describing how he had told her that a blue dress would bring her good fortune, so she had rushed right over to book a fitting. Lyra wasn’t certain how legitimate he sounded, but everyone who met him was buzzing with excitement. Her imagination wanted to insist that she had felt something special about him during the brief period that she had spoken to him, but she forced the thought away. She hadn’t felt anything at all, she told herself repeatedly. He had seemed very ordinary.

The day had lasted forever.

Lyra was grateful when Mrs. Elwood informed her to close up the shop, then left her to put the supplies away and sweep the floor on her own. She wondered if Mrs. Elwood was eagerly seeking out Master Malachi, and amused herself with wondering if her employer would ask how to make her business more profitable, or about matters of love.

Once she was finished and locked the doors behind her, Lyra stopped by the butcher to pick up a small cut of beef for dinner, then continued home. She hoped that this Master Malachi character would leave soon, so that her sleepy little town could continue on as it had always been.

She stopped short and found herself staring at the front porch of her home. There he was, sitting on the top step with his strawberry blonde hair catching the late afternoon sun, his white hands contrasting sharply against the deep black of his clothing. The fabric had to have a nap to it like velvet, Lyra found herself thinking, to stay that dark against the light. Their eyes met, but he made no indication of moving.

Lyra carefully suppressed the groan that attempted to escape her lips, then forced her feet to start moving again. When she was close enough to begin a conversation, she awkwardly began, “I’m sorry about the last night. I didn’t mean to, um … be rude.”

He stood and silently descended the stairs to approach her. She found herself blushing, and focused her gaze down on his leather boots, her grip tightening on her basket.

“It would appear, Miss Lyra, that no one knows much about you outside of your name and occupation,” he said.

She took in a sharp breath, and looked up at his face. “You asked about me?”

“I asked about the first house on the eastern road.” He turned and looked back at the front door. “I merely commented that it looked empty.”

Lyra scowled. “Somehow I doubt that you could only learn my name and occupation,” she grumbled, then skirted around him to continue up her front steps. Discovering that he had already knew about her put a sour taste in her mouth, and she was ready to lock herself inside again.

“I also heard about a recent death,” he answered quietly, and Lyra froze. “An unexpected accident.”

Her throat tightened painfully, so she took in a deep breath then croaked, “That’s everything. There’s nothing else.”

“I thought that we had gotten off on the wrong foot yesterday,” Malachi said. “I came to apologize for frightening you.”

“You didn’t … mention anything about that to anyone … did you?” She turned to face him again.

“Not a word.” He smiled.

“Please don’t talk about me.” Lyra tried to wrap her arms around herself, but remembered that she was still holding the basket as it thumped against her side. She moved awkwardly, trying to play off the mistake in a nonchalant manner, but her face burned with embarrassment. Get hold of yourself, she silently reprimanded herself, then opened the door. Malachi grabbed it to prevent her from shutting herself inside.

“Lyra,” he said, then let go of the door and stepped back with his hands up. “Allow me to divine your future.”

Lyra couldn’t stop the skeptical expression that crossed her face. “In the same way that you knew about the Taylors?”

Malachi chuckled sheepishly. “Sometimes it’s beneficial to leave certain facts to the imagination. But for you, I fully intend to use real magic.”

“I don’t know.” She frowned, then shook her head. “No. I’d rather not.”

“Very well.” He stepped back once more. “I’m certain that we’ll meet again.”

Lyra quickly went inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. She hoped that Malachi wasn’t planning on staying in town for very long.

Runemaster, Stories

Runemaster – 1.1

Autumn

Lyra sat on the front steps of her home, her hands cupped around a lukewarm mug with her father’s old flannel shirt draped over her shoulders. Despite the creeping chill of Autumn, the crickets still sang to the darkening sky, and she listened with her eyes half closed as her mind slipped into the solace of emptiness.

The crunch of gravel under a heavy boot cut sharply through the serenity, and jolted Lyra back into herself. She stood and peered at the line of trees, her grip tightening on her mug as a man dressed head to toe in black materialized out of the shadows, and for a moment he was completely unaware of her as he walked down the road, his hand loosely holding a rope tied to a plodding donkey, both of them with the downcast gaze of a long and weary day. Then the man stopped, seemingly taken aback as he lowered his hood, revealing strawberry blonde hair that hung loose around his neck, and he looked directly at Lyra.

A strange sensation filled her chest. She felt like she could see through this stranger and into the depths of his inner self in just one glance, though she was certain that she had never seen the likes of him before. He felt eerily familiar, and it made her uncomfortable. Lyra unconsciously reached to clasp her father’s shirt more tightly around her neck.

“Hello!” he called out towards her. “Have I reached Leavenworth?”

“The outskirts, yes,” Lyra answered stiffly, nodding towards the road. “Keep going, and you’ll reach the town proper.”

“Thank you,” the stranger replied, but gave no indication of moving.

As the silence stretched on, she began to think that they were locked in some sort of stand-off, and she could almost sense the stranger taking in her appearance. She became acutely aware of how disheveled she was, with her brown hair tied back into a loose braid, and the dirt still packed under her fingernails from digging in her garden earlier. She hadn’t checked her reflection, but she was certain that there was an embarrassing smear of dirt across her forehead. Suddenly, all she wanted was to get away.

“The Taylors take in lodgers. They’ll feed you, too,” Lyra said tersely, then turned to open her front door. In her hurry, she let it fall shut behind her with a slam, and she quickly slid the bolt across before taking in a deep breath.

Perhaps she had overreacted.

When her father had died, she felt like her security had been ripped away from her. It was impossible to not cave into anxiety and flee the first moment something unexpected popped up. She took a sip from her mug and made a face when she realized that her tea had gone cold, then walked to the kitchen to pour it out and wash the mug.

She decided that it would be a good idea to turn in early that night. There was another busy day of work waiting for her on the morrow, and there was a good chance of her rest being disrupted by bad dreams.

Lyra was focused on taking Mrs. Gambee’s measurements, jotting them down with a pencil after scribbling a quick star in the corner of the paper to indicate that a couple of inches needed to be added to the waist and hip numbers before cutting the dress pattern. She only half-listened as the older woman gossiped with Mrs Elwood, the dressmaker, in between browsing through fabric swatches.

“He arrived last night, I’m told, and immediately asked for the Taylors,” Mrs. Gambee practically hummed, “Though when they asked how he knew about them, he smiled in a way that was quite secretive.”

“Do you think he divined it, then?” Mrs. Elwood replied.

“He might have!” Mrs. Gambee giggled. “There’s no other explanation!”

Lyra clenched her jaw for a moment, then quietly asked if Mrs. Gambee would please hold her arm out while she worked with the measuring tape.

“What did you say his name was again?” Mrs. Elwood asked, increasingly interested in the topic.

“Master Malachi, I do believe. I haven’t met him yet, but Ellie Jones told me that he has the most gorgeous orange hair she has ever seen.”

Lyra’s heart skipped a beat, but she bit the inside of her cheek as she set down her paper and pencil, then carefully folded up the measuring tape. She was so distracted that she almost didn’t hear Mrs. Elwood say, “Lyra dear, if you’re done, go grab the french lace for me,” but she caught herself and quickly replied, ‘Yes ma’am,’ then left for the back room.

Master Malachi?

She paused to put her hand against her forehead, feeling oddly faint for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Master?

It wasn’t her fault for not knowing his station. It wasn’t her fault if she left a bad first impression of the people of Leavenworth either, considering that he had popped out of the gloam so unexpectedly when she had been trying to enjoy a moment to herself. He should have known better than to stop and stare.

Master?

Lyra had to squeeze her eyes shut as she took in a deep breath. She was getting herself worked up again, and it wouldn’t do her any good to have the townsfolk thinking that she was losing herself to hysteria. She was going to keep it together, no matter what it took. At least on the outside.

She found the french lace samples and plastered a smile on her face, returning to the two women with the determination to be as helpful and efficient in her work as she could be. She was going to make it through the day, and she was going to forget about her short encounter with Master Malachi as quickly as she could. She wasn’t going to dwell. She wasn’t going to feel foolish.

She was going to pretend to be normal, like everyone else.