With wide eyes, I slide my gaze over to my father, unsure how to respond. He leans the broom up against the wall and scurries over, appreciation completely washing away his original skepticism. My father agrees to selling half the stock to him today, and the other half tomorrow since we still have a delivery, and it’ll give us time to make extra.
The next day trickles by. He doesn’t show to claim the last half of hispurchase. My father curses the waste of bread and effort. As I stay late to close the shop and clean, a knock comes at the door.
It’s him.
I’m not supposed to let anyone in after dark, especially when I’m alone. Especially because I don’t even know the soldier’s name. But I do. Swept in by that charming smile of his. The warmth in his voice.
“I’m so sorry, I couldn’t leave my duties any earlier,” he tells me. The distress in his voice is genuine.
As I slide the box of loaves to him on the counter, his hands brush mine as he takes it. We stand there still for a moment, staring at the other. Our fingertips touching.
Quietly, he asks, “Do you know of any families in town that might benefit from these?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” He dips his head and laughs before looking up at me. “I might have spent all my wages just to see you again. There are only four of us soldiers here in town, and I would hate to waste it on us when there might be others who would benefit from a free meal.”
A blush forces me to drop my hands from the box and look down at my feet.
“I know, ridiculous, right?” He laughs again. “I am…so entranced by you. And yet, I don’t even know your name.”
“Lyra,” I say as I meet his eyes again.
There’s that handsome smile of his again. “Devin.”
We spend every night together for the next few weeks until he leaves. Innocent at first. Chatting for hours, learning about each other—the families we come from, our dreams, our fears. Our similarities and differences. The second-to-last night, as we say our goodbyes, I pull him into a sweet kiss. And on the very last night before he leaves, he confesses he’s in love with me. That he’ll do whatever he can to come back and see me.
I spend months staring at the bakery door. Every time it opens, it breaks my heart into smaller pieces when it isn’t him. I can only wonder if I was some passing fantasy for him. If he was just lonely on a mission from the king. Wondering if he found someone else.
But five months later, when he walks through that door with five minutes until close…I can’t help it. I drop the curtains. Lock up early. All the yearning collides at once, and wandering hands with desperate mouths become a heated moment of me laid out on the counter while he shows me how much he loves me.
I’d never even kissed a man before him. Even more than he was before—he becomes everything to me. The next few weeks we spend every free moment together. Speaking of our future, how we can make it work. Eventually I trust him with my mother and my’s illness. Constant shared confessions of love. And moments of passion.
He takes me back to the inn he’s staying at.
I have him in the rundown forge.
There’s even a moment we’re stuck in a downpour, him thrusting into me as he has me pinned against a tree.
For the next two years, he comes to Kilamber every six months. It’s like no time has passed at all, and yet the time between is excruciating.
Until the last visit, he proposes a way we can be together.
Forever.
“Lyra!” Devin’s hands find my cheeks, cradling my face. “Lyra, can you hear me?”
When I’m able to shove the weight off my eyelids to peek at him, he’s kneeling before me. Mouth parted in miserable fear. As our eyes connect, heavy, slow breaths keep me moving.
He grabs my hands and places them on his stubbled face. “Look. Look at me, Lyra. We have to go. We have to get out of the castle before the beast finds you, otherwise you’ll never be able to leave.”
More and more glimpses of us fill my head. My breath comes out in stolen gasps and shudders. I remove my hands from his face and hold onto the chair’s arms, trying to force myself up. Powered by my newfound memories, I stand, even on shaking legs. Then take a few steps back from him. Forming the words between the pound in my head, “You and I...”
Realization dawns over him, turning into a wide smile as he nods. “Yes. Yes, love. You remember?” He reaches out for me.
Shuffling back from him, I stumble until I find a wall to brace myself. “How could you?”
His face twists in confusion. “What? Lyra?—”
