Chapter 57

Alistair’s POV

I watched Lyra closely, drinking in every subtle shift in her expression. She was already beautiful, but when her cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment, she became positively radiant. The soft blush spreading across her face melted my heart and made me grin, my own face warming at the memory of my teasing. I could still hear my own words echoing between us, see the way she’d ducked her head, and the combination of shyness and courage in her eyes did something strange and unfamiliar to my chest.

Then she stood up abruptly. “I’ll be right back,” she said, her voice light but hurried, as if she needed to escape my gaze before her blush deepened any further. In her rush, she nudged the stool beside her, and I saw the glass of steaming milk teeter on its edge. Time seemed to slow as the cup tipped, the liquid sloshing over the rim in a shimmering arc before gravity dragged it down, sending hot milk splashing onto her trousers and onto her legs.

“Oh