The Lies of Lena

Book 0: The Otacian Chronicles

by Kylie Snow

Genres: Fantasy Romance; New Adult Romance

Synopsis

In this spicy and dark romantasy setting BookTok ablaze, a young mage must is captured by her mortal enemy bent on exacting revenge in this spicy and dark romantasy following a forbidden love filled with passionate angst and forced proximity.

Lena Daelyra has always lived in fear, as do most Mages in Tovagoth. Mages are discriminated against, hunted for sport, and have no laws that provide them protection. She has kept to herself her entire life, even after she and her mother found a permanent residence in the kingdom of Otacia. That is until she meets Quill Callon, a handsome resident of the Inner Ring, who agrees to train her in weaponry—a safe way of defending herself. As her feelings for Quill develop, she is taunted by the reminder that she can never show her true self, show what she really is. Not even to him.

Silas La’Rune, Crown Prince of Otacia, has been kept inside the castle walls since he was five years old, since the kidnapping and murder of his younger sister, the Princess. He hasn’t known freedom or even seen his kingdom, except from the castle windows. It isn’t until the Queen allows him outside the walls tone day hat he sees Otacia for himself. One day that changes everything.

When something devastating separates Lena from the man she grows to love, things are not the same when they find each other five years later. Not at all. And when Lena and Silas’s story finally becomes intertwined, it is clear the fate of Magekind rests on both of their shoulders.

The Otacian Chronicles is a dark romantasy that will progressively get darker as the series continues. Please be mindful of the content warnings below and protect your mental health.

This book is a dark romantasy novel filled with romantic tension, sexy banter, and heartbreak. It also contains explicit sexual scenes, explicit language, violence, gore, torture, dismemberment, sexual assault, rape, loss, and grief.

Release date: August 19, 2025

Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

Print pages: 480

Sample

My first memory is from age four. While faint, I remember running barefoot in the frigid snow, with nothing but my mother’s pull guiding us to our unknown destination; the words she constantly repeated echoed in my head.

Mages are hated, Lena. We must never show who we really are.

For a child to hold in their magical abilities, it required significant strength and discipline. At four, I was neither, so it was no surprise that while passing through a small village, I tripped and used a protective barrier to keep myself from hitting the ground. I immediately knew my mistake, but with no time to lose, my mother grabbed my hand, and we ran. We were so poor, and my only shoes were so large they couldn’t stay on my feet as we bolted away.

A group of men from the village chased after us, and after what seemed like ages of sprinting through a frozen forest, we finally lost them. My mother grabbed me close, and I remember thinking I would get scolded, just like the other times I couldn’t hold back my powers.

But instead, she cried. She dropped to the ground and pulled me to her chest. My mother had always been strong, and I had never seen her so vulnerable. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…I didn’t mean to,” I whimpered as I tried to comfort her.

She sobbed so hard she struggled to find air, but eventually, she collected herself and wiped her face. “I know, sweet pea. I’m sorry for getting upset.” She stood up and brushed the snow off her pants. “I just want us to be somewhere safe and warm. Not on the run.” Tears began to fill her eyes once more. “You don’t deserve this…none of us do.”

Her embrace was offering the slightest bit of warmth. “Why do they want to hurt us?” I had asked with pure childhood innocence.

She smiled with a look in her eyes that I couldn’t comprehend until I was older. “People fear what they do not understand,” she answered.

Mages are hated, Lena.

And nothing rang truer. Being a Mage meant immediate banishment. Being a Mage meant any protective law did not apply. Being a Mage meant being seen and treated like a monster, even if you were only four years old.

I never forgot that day. I knew I had to be strong. I had to be disciplined. And so, I suppressed my magic as much as physically and mentally possible. Typically, magic doesn’t present until much older, but unfortunately for us, I was an exception. Although I didn’t have another slip-up after that day, I always feared that eventually, something would happen, and we would have to run, never finding a place to call home.

It wasn’t until I was twelve years old that we found a more permanent residence. Like most territories in Tovagoth, the mighty kingdom of Otacia had an intense hatred for Mages, but its population of about ten thousand meant we could blend in. It was a place where we had no track record, and two copper-haired sorceresses would be hard to forget. 

The kingdom was separated into three areas. The higher class lived elevated and tucked safely in the middle of the kingdom, called the Center. The folks in the middle class lived in the Inner Ring, also slightly elevated, while the lower class lived in the Outer Ring, which is where my mother was able to find a small cottage for us to stay in. 

It was ruled by King Ulric La’Rune, a powerful, vicious man feared by most. He owed his popularity to the loyalty he had to his people and kingdom, and to his precise skills on the battleground. On the other hand, his wife, Queen Ryia, was adored by all. She was seen as a compassionate, loving woman. Even now, she sometimes graces the Outer Ring with her presence, stimulating the economy of many small businesses. Ulric never did bother to visit. Some would say their balance of brutality and kindness was what made the kingdom so successful.

As for their children, it was known they had a son, Prince Silas La’Rune, who they kept hidden away in their castle. As new villagers in Otacia, and lower class at that, we didn’t know the whole story of what happened to their only other child, their younger daughter, all those years ago. All we know is she was stolen from the castle as an infant and later found deceased in the Northern Woods.

Since that tragedy, the King and Queen swore to keep their elder son safe. They would not allow him to leave the castle walls until he turned eighteen, adequately trained and prepared to face any threat. No one besides castle staff or perhaps soldiers in training knew what he looked like. Mother wondered if the kingdom was genuinely defended if something so terrible could happen to the Princess of all people. But the kingdom has had no incidents since, and everyone was seemingly safe.

And I didn’t practice my magic. I shoved every instinct as deep in my core as I could.

Mages are hated, Lena.

And as long as that part of me was kept hidden, I would never feel at home, not in any kingdom, and certainly not in my body.



“Chamomile, milk thistle, sage, and a little bit of Epsom salt,” Mother said as she sprinkled the salt into the pot of water. “Lastly, some honey. It helps with the flavor and is known to help heal wounds.”

She slowly stirred the mixture in a small steel pot being heated on our wood-burning stove.

“So, this really helps heal people?“ I asked skeptically. 

She smiled, swirling her hand as she enchanted her creation. “Well, with a little magic, it does.” The golden mist that sparkled and extended from her fingertips had me letting out a small gasp. Before I knew it, the mist faded. I looked away. 

Of course, she enchants her elixirs. 

I assumed as much, but Mother knew how badly the use of magic affected me. She never used it in front of me anymore.

“Lena,” she started. “I know you haven’t used magic in a very long time, but—”

“I know, Mother. But as I’ve told you countless times, I have no interest in learning,” I said with crossed arms. Since moving here, this was the first time I allowed her to show me how she makes anything besides bread or scones. She knew I didn’t wish to learn anything regarding magic, even something this small. In recent weeks, she has been not so subtly trying to get me to learn something, anything. I always declined until today.

“Lena, you are sixteen years old. You are more than capable of learning basic magic.”

I felt my hands trembling.

Mages are hated, Lena.

Those words would forever haunt me. I turned back to her, her coffee-brown eyes sparkling with hope. “I know you want this for me,” I said softly. “I just…I can’t. It isn’t necessary. We’d only be asking for trouble.”

“Isn’t necessary?” She frowned. “Yes, you were small, Lena, when your powers surfaced. It wasn’t necessary back then. Frankly, teaching you anything other than self-restraint wasn’t safe. I haven’t even heard of a four-year-old discovering their powers…” She shook her head and looked at me with determination. “…but that is only proof of how special you are. How strong you could be. Yes, here in Otacia, you may never need to know how to defend yourself. But if for some reason we had to leave—”

“Why would we have to leave?” I challenged. “The only thing putting us at risk is you enchanting your items! Don’t you think one of these days word will get to the castle about your miracle elixirs—how somehow some herbs, salt, and fucking honey can cure disease?!”

“Watch your tongue!” she snapped. I knew I crossed a line. “Innocent people are dying here! I don’t care that they’re just humans. I have the ability to help.” Her fists were clenched at her sides. “I don’t do the full potency of my power. Just enough to slowly heal over time.” 

“And what if someone discovers what makes that happen? What if someone bursts in while you’re enchanting and discovers who we are?”

“It’s been four years—”

“Yes! Four years!” I cried as I threw my arms up. “We have managed to stay somewhere for a whole whopping four years. Four years of having a home. And I am terrified of having to leave it.” 

Sadness swept over Mother’s face, and my throat burned as I held back tears. I shook my head and slumped into the kitchen chair, propping up my elbows and burying my face in my hands.

Mother set down her wooden spoon on our dining table and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. One tear escaped, and it took all my willpower to keep the rest at bay. “I never want to be on the run again. I want to have a life. I want to have friends. I want to be close to people. Not live with this constant debilitating fear.” I shook my head again. “I just…I just want to be normal.” 

Mother crouched beside me, pulling my hands away from my face and into hers. I hesitated but met her stare. 

“How awfully boring that would be,” she said with a soft smile. I couldn’t help but return it. “You can have friends, Lena. Be close to people.”

“But I always have to hide who I really am…” I sighed. “So, I can build relationships, wearing a mask.”

“As much as being a Mage is part of who we are, it doesn’t define us. Even if I couldn’t use my magic, I would still be myself.” She tucked a copper coil hanging in front of my face behind my ear. “I know you are scared. But you deserve to live, Lena. I won’t push you anymore. But know that I am always here to teach you when you are ready,” she said with another gentle smile that sent more tears rolling down my face. I wiped them away.

“I’m sorry…for the foul language,” I said abashedly, looking down at our worn wooden floors.

Mother let out a chuckle. “You get that from your father.”

That made me smile. I had never met him. Mother always spoke fondly of the brown-haired, green-eyed man she fell in love with over seventeen years ago. He was a flirty, foul-mouthed fisherman, quite opposite to my soft-spoken mother. She always said that he enthralled everyone who met him, and all would say he was far too handsome to be a fisherman.

After almost a year of their romance, Mother fell pregnant with me. Even though there was a fifty percent chance I would be a regular human, there was also a fifty percent chance I would be a Mage.

The small village of Renrell hated Mages almost as much as King Ulric. Mother didn’t believe my father would shun her. But she couldn’t be sure. At best, he would be forced to leave the village he loved, that his family had lived in for generations. To live a life secluded until it was known whether or not I was a Mage and if I had any abilities that needed honing. At worst, he would turn on her and let the most anti-Mage villagers have their way with her. While she didn’t believe he would do the latter, there was too much of a risk. So, she left one day in the middle of the night. Never to see him again.

“Oh—it’s almost 7:00!” Mother exclaimed. I stood from my chair as she rushed over the leather crossbody filled with the items I was to deliver to the Inner Ring. Mother and I traded off duties. Sometimes, I handled deliveries while she operated our stand at the weekly market. Venturing up to the Inner Ring was intimidating, but I kept to myself and only had to socialize with the people whose orders I was fulfilling. Overseeing the stand was a much more challenging task, and honestly, Mother knew more about her items than I did, given my lack of interest. 

I slung the bag over my body and let out a huff. “Wow, there’s a decent amount in here.” I could already feel the weight pulling at my shoulder. This would undoubtedly be uncomfortable. I let out a breathy laugh. 

I’m so proud of her. 

Word of how excellent the goods at Waylon’s Bakery & Apothecary were had reached the Inner Ring. The middle class wouldn’t set foot in the Outer Ring, but some were okay with items being delivered to them. Customers always asked my mother why it wasn’t named “Minerva’s Bakery & Apothecary”. She always smiled and said she named it after a good friend. She never mentioned it was my father’s name. 

Mother slipped me the order list and the map I used nearly every week to decipher which homes each order was going to. 

“Good luck at the market today,” I said, giving her a big hug. 

“Today is going to be a good day, Lena.” She pulled away, beaming. “I can just feel it.”

Istepped outside, and the spring breeze was pleasant as it blew past. It was a relatively warm day for early April. Our small cottage was nestled in a quiet area of the Outer Ring. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm glow over our cozy abode.

The Outer Ring wasn’t glamorous, but it certainly wasn’t as atrocious as the more privileged viewed it. The pathways were made up of broken stone, and because most homes were tiny, they were packed somewhat close to one another. Thankfully, there was enough room for me to tend to a garden.

Gardening had become a peaceful hobby of mine. All around our home burst with colorful flowers—roses, daffodils, lilies, peonies, and more—all that I had planted, making the drab exterior of the cottage seem not so bland, at least in the spring and summertime. The ivy growing up on the sides of our home was not my doing, but I loved it the same. I also helped grow some of the herbs we utilized for Mother’s elixirs, though we still had to do plenty of scavenging outside the kingdom walls.

Behind our home was a river that twisted throughout the Outer Ring, adding to the peaceful atmosphere. Those from the Inner Ring and Center typically looked with disgust at the Outer Ring, but I think their ill feelings stem from the work of Serpents Cove, a section of the Outer Ring that was dark and notorious for illegal activity. I was never to get close to it and never spoke to anyone who lived there. Other areas really weren’t so bad.

Our weekly market, for example, was a significant event with vendors selling anything from fresh fruits and vegetables to jewelry or sewn goods. If those above gave it a chance, perhaps the people here wouldn’t be so poor.

It was a miracle we had started having customers from the Inner Ring, and the extra copper my mother had allowed me was used to purchase an obsidian dagger I kept hidden under my cloak and sheathed at my side. Mother didn’t know about it, simply because I didn’t want another lecture regarding defending myself. Truthfully, I never thought I’d need to use it, but the small comfort it gave me was worth the loss of copper.

I sighed and strolled towards the large stairway entrance to the Inner Ring, about a ten-minute walk from our cottage. Though I kept to myself, many neighbors waved at me as I passed.

I ventured up the giant steps, observing the guard stationed at the top. Outer Ring citizens were allowed to visit the Inner Ring between 6:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m. Not a minute before and not a minute later. It had been about a year since we started making deliveries, and the guards paid me no mind as they knew I never stayed past curfew.

I made it through the first couple of orders rather quickly: an elixir for one home and an order of pastries for another. As I continued my venture, I strolled past a luxury dress shop, one I couldn’t help but gaze at every time I encountered it.

What it must be like to own pieces like this.

I was still taking steps forward, admiring the fine gowns displayed in the window, when suddenly someone rammed into me so hard that I fell to the ground.

“Oops,” a snobby voice said sarcastically. I glared up from my position on the ground to a girl wearing a gorgeous ivory and bronze dress, dainty silver jewelry resting along her neck. Her two friends next to her wore equally stunning attire and equally repulsive sneers. Their clothing wasn’t fancy enough for royalty but most definitely enough to live close to the castle, unlike my deep blue cloak, cream chemise, and brown overdress. The dress fit me decently, and, as always, I felt pretty enough in it until I stepped up here. It was hard not to feel inferior.

I grasped my crossbody and gathered the wrapped pastries that had fallen out after I fell.

“What is a dirty peasant girl doing in the Inner Ring?” she asked as her two friends laughed. They didn’t look much older than me.

I shifted back onto my feet. “I—I’m just making deliveries, ma’am.” I hated that my voice shook. This wasn’t the first time I had been harassed coming up to the Inner Ring, but usually, it was just dirty looks. Gods, I felt small.

“I-I’m just m-making d-delivering ma’am,” she mocked as they all continued to laugh. 

I lowered my voice, attempting to keep it steady as I said, “I don’t want any trouble.” The looks on their faces made me want to ram my dagger in their throats.

Calm down. Keep it under control.

I took a deep breath through my nose. The last thing I needed was to lose control.

She closed the gap between us, flipping her brunette hair over her shoulder. “Then don’t get your filth anywhere near me,“ she spat. She then eyed my bag, which had been adjusted to lay on one shoulder instead of across my body, and ripped it off me.

“Hey! Give me that back!” I protested.

She pulled back as I reached forward in an attempt to grab it. “Aww, what are you going to do about it?” She flipped open the bag, and her friends started reaching in. I felt the tears pool in my eyes.

We can’t miss these orders. It will mess up everything Mother has worked for. 

“Please,” I begged. “I need those!” 

I hated how pathetic I sounded. Hated that I couldn’t hold in my emotions.

She pulled one of the scones out, unwrapped it, and took a bite.

Fire flowed through my veins. Anger consumed me. That was all it took for me to whip out my dagger and aim for her neck. All rational thought went out with the pure rage and humiliation I felt. I stopped at her neck, holding the blade sideways, pressing it into her hard enough for it to hurt, but not hard enough to cause real damage. The girl shrieked, and her friends stilled, their faces paling.

“Hey!” I heard a voice growl behind me. I whirled around, dagger still kept at the girl’s neck, to see a male charging up at us.

Fuck.

Based on his toned build, I assumed he was in his late teens. He towered over me as he approached, jet black hair flowing loosely with the springtime wind. He wore a white tunic, which seemed luminescent against his golden tan skin. A sword hung across his back, and his dark brown leather pants were form-fitting against his defined legs. The look was finished with black leather boots.

Inner Ring.

His jaw was clenched, and he focused on me with striking gold eyes. I swallowed.

He’s going to turn me over to the guards. He must know these girls.

Fear began to sweep over me, but to my surprise, he shot his eyes at the girl under my blade.

“See what happens when you take what isn’t yours?” he said matter-of-factly.

The girl gaped at him. “You’re going to defend the charlatan holding a knife to my neck?”

He slowly looked back at me and gazed into my eyes. I tried to calm my shaking and not look like a complete weakling.

“Lower your weapon,” he said softly.

I hesitated momentarily but ended up conceding, lowering my weapon while still keeping it where I could use it. He glanced back to the brunette. “That doesn’t belong to you.” He nodded to my bag. “Give it back, or I will get the guards.”

The girl’s friends just stood there, frozen.

She let out a dry laugh, then softly touched her chest. “Get the guards if you wish. She just tried to kill me. I did nothing wrong.” 

He smirked. “We both know that isn’t true, darling.” He purred as he got close to her. She drew in a breath, and despite her resentment towards him, I could tell she was attracted to him. I couldn’t blame her. She glanced over his shoulder, made eye contact with me, and then looked back at him.

She paused and then let out yet another dry laugh, her brown eyes trailing back to me.

“Pfft. Here are your pastries back. They’re dry anyway.” She tossed the bag on the ground before I could catch it, and I heard the shattering of the remaining elixir inside as it hit the ground. The boy’s eyes widened.

“Oops,” she said dryly. She didn’t bother to look at him again as she and her friends strolled off, chucking the pastries they had in their hands on the ground. Thankfully, only the main bitch unwrapped hers.

The stranger kneeled to the ground and picked up my now dripping bag. 

“Thank you for your help,” I muttered, wiping my eyes. I didn’t even realize the tears had actually fallen.

Pathetic. 

He looked up and smiled softly.

“Of course.” He stood up and handed me my belongings. “It’s a shame about what was in your bag. What a repulsive girl that was,” he said with a curled lip, looking in the direction they had left. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“Really? You must be new up here then,” I said with a slight laugh, slinging the bag back around me. “Although to be fair, it’s never been that bad before.” I paused, examining my bag and what was inside. Thankfully, the elixir was kept in a separate compartment of the bag, so the baked goods wrapped inside were unharmed. “I don’t know what we are going to do,” I mumbled. “That was an elixir, and the man purchasing it really needs it.”

Not only that, but the business’s reputation was on the line too. One unpleasant experience could ruin everything.

“You don’t have anymore?” he questioned.

“No, my mother makes the elixirs as they’re ordered. She will have to remake it…and I still have all this to deliver, too…” I glanced up at the colossal clock tower in the distance. 

Almost 8:00 a.m. 

Under no circumstances were those from the Outer Ring allowed in the Inner Ring past 10:00 a.m. Any business would need to be conducted beforehand. The kingdom ruled it this way, so we lower peasants weren’t a bother to those of more importance. 

How am I going to do this?

“Well, why don’t I help you?” he offered as if reading my mind.

I frowned at him. “What?”

“If you have directions, I can deliver the rest for you while you let your mother know what needs to be remade.” He slid his hands into his pockets and gave a charming smile.

I studied him as I considered the proposal. I didn’t want his help, but I was running out of time. He seemed trustworthy enough, I supposed.

“Why would you do that?” I asked skeptically.

“I don’t have anything else better to do.” He shrugged. “My mornings are pretty dull. This is the perfect way to switch things up. You can’t be up here past 10:00, correct?”

He looked me up and down, and I felt my face flush.

I guess it’s obvious I’m from the Outer Ring.

“Correct,” I muttered, looking down at my feet. Being seen as a second-class citizen never got easier. Even though it’s all I’ve ever known.

“Well, then we best hurry.” He reached for my bag. “Don’t forget about the thing she bit into.”

“Right.” I handed him the slip with the orders, the names of each customer, the price of their purchase, and the map with directions.

“They should only take about forty minutes. Which is about the same time it will take me to run home and back after my mother makes another one.” I took a long breath. “Can we meet back up here? We will, of course, pay you.” 

He waved a hand in dismissal. “That isn’t necessary. I want to help,” he murmured while looking at the map. I wanted to plaster him with more questions. I was still surprised anyone from up here would even want to speak to me, let alone help, but I didn’t have the time.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask your name. I’m Lena Daelyra.” I extended my hand towards him. “And you?”

He examined my hand, then met my eyes. “Quill. Quill Callon,” he replied, beaming while taking my hand in his. I thought he would give me a handshake, but he instead brought my hand to his mouth and gave it a light kiss. He met my widened eyes with a grin. My knees nearly buckled at the gesture.

Someone from the Inner Ring…kissing the hand of a lower-class peasant? Is he ill?

“I—I will see you in forty minutes,” I stuttered as he let go of my hand.

He adjusted my bag on his shoulder and gave me a lazy smile. “See you soon.” 

I held my breath and turned away, my anxiety a pestering pit in my chest.

I hoped trusting this stranger wasn’t a mistake.

“You did WHAT?” Mother screeched. I had told her what happened at our market stand, and upon only hearing the minute details, she decided to close for the rest of the day. When we returned to the cottage and I told her the whole story, she was furious.

“He wanted to help, so I—”

“So, you gave a boy, who you’ve never met, the rest of our orders? He probably just left with everything, Lena!” 

“He saved it from being stolen in the first place, plus he looked like he had at least some money. I doubt he needs to steal food.” He didn’t look poor like us, but he didn’t necessarily look rich either. 

“Or maybe, since you gave him directions with the amount of money we should be making, he’s fulfilling the orders and keeping the money for himself!”

My heart sank.

My Gods, I’m a fool.

Mother just looked away, shaking her head, beginning to make the elixir once more. 

“I’m…I’m so sorry.” The kindness, the kiss on the hand, he knew what he was doing. He completely fooled me. I hung my head low and went to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me as I pressed my back against it, and slid onto the floor. I sat there in silence for a moment.

Another thing I messed up. I was an idiot to think he wanted to help.

I buried my face in my hands and sobbed quietly. 

Nearly thirty minutes went by. I could hear clanking dishes and hurried footsteps coming from the kitchen while Mother attempted to remake the lost items. I knew I should be in there helping, but my shame kept me paralyzed to my wooden bedroom floor. Plus, I would probably find a way to mess that up, too.

I stared ahead at my small bed, the ivory sheets and peach-colored quilt calling my name. It was thin but just enough to keep me warm at night. Across from my bed was my pine dresser, and a brass-framed mirror was sitting on top of it. I didn’t have many cosmetics, but near it lay a soft pink blush, mascara, and red lipstick. The blush and mascara were worn frequently, but I never felt there was an occasion for such a bold color on my lips.

I stood up and walked over, realizing I probably had black streaks staining my face. I glanced in the mirror, and staring back were my red, puffy eyes and, sure enough, black droplets running down my cheeks.

I hated myself. I hated feeling this way, too.

I wasn’t ugly. In fact, I didn’t mind my bright green eyes and the flecks of gold that warped through them. Mother said they were just like my father’s. I fetched a cloth and began wiping the tear streaks away, feeling sick to my stomach.

My red-copper hair was tied in a half-up style, which I opted for most days, with a bun tied in the back and a few loose pieces pulled out in the front. I could see my own pointed ears, even if no one else could. Mages know now that their ears must be glamoured to appear like the rounded ears humans had.

No, I wasn’t ugly. But my insides sure as hell were.

I was nothing but a shell containing so…so much rage. I couldn’t think of the last time I felt happy. I couldn’t think of one thing I had truly done right in my life.

Just as I was going to go down another downward spiral of self-loathing, I heard knocking at the front door. I froze, and as Mother opened the door, I heard a familiar voice.

I quickly exited the room, and standing at the door was Quill, holding my crossbody and handing Mother the bag of money that we had earned.

His eyes met mine.

“You came back…” I whispered as I retrieved my bag from him. I was so grateful I cleaned up the smudged mascara.

He frowned. “Of course I did,” he stated, handing it over. “I was waiting where you told me to, but you didn’t show. Thankfully, your home is marked on your map.”

My cheeks flushed.

Mother was peering through the sack of copper when she spoke. “Oh, that was my fault.” She looked at him. “I couldn’t believe someone from the Inner Ring would help us, truthfully. I convinced Lena here of that. But I was wrong.” She pulled out a generous amount of the copper pieces and held her hand to Quill. “Thank you so much for your help.”

He glanced at her extended hand and gave a soft smile.

“Payment is not necessary. You earned that money, not me,” he said kindly.

Mother looked at him in confusion and then back at me. I gave an uncertain shrug back in reply.

Then, her eyes shot open as she glanced at the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Oh shoot!” She ran over and then glanced at the wall of dried herbs that hung above the counters. “I didn’t add sage, and there’s none left.” She ran her fingers through her hair, not caring if it fumbled up her bangs, and shook her head. “I need to run outside the wall and get some.”

“No, let me do it,” I insisted. “Finish up the rest of what you’re doing. I’ll go.”

“I don’t want you outside the wall alone, Lena.”

Before I could respond, Quill stepped in. “I’ll go with her.”

I whirled at him. “I can take care of myself.” It came out colder than I intended, but I couldn’t stand appearing like a helpless little g