Three or four blocks from the Governance Hall, Vonatelli’s stood. The single-story brick building full of mirrors and creamy curtains rested itself against a fabric market that was three times as big. Apparently, they were run by half-sisters, one human, one hootwing.

Soft instrumental music played from a floating cube over by the register nestled between two lanterns. Sigils painted on the side glowed blue with more staticky magic that left the fur on my arms and face bristling.

“How?” I asked, staring at the cube.

It appeared to be made of cheap wood and had different sigils on all six sides. Only the top face glowed while the others remained dim.

“Oh, the Tune Cube? They’re pretty new. A hootwing student at the Magicollege in Sunbalm designed it for the market a year ago. They sold like wildfire, and the student dropped out of school to make them full-time.”

I stared transfixed as my ears focussed on a violin duet playing quietly from the Tune Cube. The sound quality was amazing, easily as good as any streaming service I might have used back home.

Juno giggled and demonstrated for me, lowering the cube closer to the desk, which quieted the volume. Then she raised it back up to its original hovering height to make the song louder.

“Cool!”

Encouraged by my easily amused bunny brain, Juno really impressed me by flipping the Tune Cube to a different face. The side that’d previously glowed now faded as the new top face took its place, blue light filling every sigil on the surface.

To my surprise, a different song now played, one with a flute section kicking the melody off with a series of trills.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled, eyes growing wider. “This is blowing my mind.”

“Well, it ought to. I spent a month’s wages on that little trinket. And it only plays six songs from the Sunbalm Chamber Orchestra,” a woman’s voice said, stepping into the room.

I turned to see a hootwing walk in, taller than me. Her right eyebrow was pierced with two silver rings that each contained a small emerald. Black and white feathers covered her body under a white shirt and a set of blue overalls. Hair shaved on one side and dyed red and black on the other gave her a unique look. And I didn’t doubt for a minute this tailor would help find me a kickass dress.

“Juno, darling, it’s good to see you again,” the hootwing said, taking my companion's hands into her own feathered fingers. She kissed the messenger lightly on each cheek. And then, those golden eyes turned to me.

Her beak clicked twice as the tailor looked me up and down.

“You’ve brought me many things through your years as a messenger. So tell me, Juno, what delightful soul have you brought to Vonatelli’s today?”

Before I could answer, Juno wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I might have uttered a little “eep,” but I wasn’t sure.

“This right here is Tilda the Bunny Goddess. She’s my newest traveling companion sent directly from Opha. Tilda, this is Bella Vonatelli, the greatest tailor in all of Kylson,” Juno said.

Meekly, I cleared my throat and said, “Nice to meet you.”

Bella’s beak clicked twice more as a smile overtook her face.

“A genuine Luck Bunny?! Here, in my shop? Why, Juno, you truly are a magnificent delivery woman. Tilda, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, her soft hands taking mine in their grasp.

I flinched and tried to pull my hands back. She let me. Her smile shrank to a knowing grin as I sputtered.

“Not. . . really a goddess. Just a lucky bunny. Anyway, your store is beautiful,” I said, looking around the shop again.

A thin red carpet covered every inch of the floor, and smaller lanterns suspended from the ceiling cast a warm golden glow about the place.

Combined with the soft music playing, it felt cozy and inviting.

“I don’t even feel awkward that I’m about to ask you for clothes,” I might have whispered in awe.

Bella half bowed before me, one arm (or. . . wing?) crossed over her chest.

“My father, Toni Vonatelli, worked hard at making his clothing shop the most comfortable and casual tailoring business in all of Kylson. His store wasn’t the cheapest nor the fanciest. But he took great pride in the fact that no customer left without a smile and returned without an air of bashfulness. I’ve spent my life learning how to do the same. Rest assured, Tilda, if you’ve come here for clothes, you have my soaring word that you’ll leave here clothed and at ease.”

I covered my mouth with a few fingers and felt bashfulness creep into me again. Nobody had ever treated me like this before.

“What exactly are you needing?” Bella asked, clasping her hands together and waiting with a patient stare.

I didn’t, couldn’t answer. Not yet. My brain was still overheated from so much flustering and kindness dumped on me like a bucket of water.

Juno took her arm off my shoulders (wait, no, put that back) and gestured to several pre-made outfits hanging on iron racks suspended from the ceiling by thin gold-painted chains.

“For starters, Tilda could use a dress for tea with the governess tonight. And after that, a couple of traveling outfits and a decent coat for the approaching cold season.”

Bella nodded.

“And you’ll want the clothes modified to fit a. . . rabbitfolk? It’s strange to think that with all the beautiful people that fill Fevara, we haven’t had any like you before, Tilda. Not unless they were directly sent by Opha,” Bella said, walking around me and examining my figure more closely.

Nodding, Juno walked over to where she’d set her backpack down on the floor.

“Can I leave my Luck Bunny in your trusted wings while I run and make some deliveries? I still need to drop off some magically preserved fruits and letters,” Juno said.

I froze and tried my best to hide a look of horror at being abandoned. My shoulders tightened, and my heart rate kicked up a few notches. Suddenly, it wasn’t as easy to see clearly at the edges of my vision.

Bella took one of my hands and dismissed Juno without a second glance.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure Tilda has a beautiful outfit in time for tea with Governess Lynn. You run along now and drop off those letters and packages. Mila has been waiting anxiously for that enchanted thread for the last few weeks, you know?”

Juno winked at me, which sent my focus careening off the highway and into the median.

“I’ll make sure your sister gets her package, then. Take good care of my Luck Bunny. I’ve grown quite fond of her in a surprisingly short amount of time,” Juno said, waving at me.

Returning her wave, I felt my massive ears droop behind me.

“Oh, do not worry, Tilda. This is a good thing. Now you can tell me all your thoughts without worry of Juno overhearing,” Bella said, ushering me over toward the clothes. “Now, which dress do you want me to alter for your tea time with the governess tonight?”

I tried to get my focus back on the road.

“Um. . . whatever you think is best,” I said, staring at the floor instead of the clothes. To her credit, where I expected Bella to grow agitated, she merely patted me on the back.

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

Without warning, I said, “I’ve honestly never had a dress before, Bella. I’m not sure what I’d want. I have no baseline to start from.”

The hootwing nodded and walked over to the desk where the Tune Cube continued to play. I watched as she pulled out a metal kettle, not all that different from the one Juno used last night to make hot cocoa.

Humming along with the music, Bella filled the kettle with water from a nearby faucet and sink in a corner kitchenette. Then she unfolded a thin black cloth, placed it on her desk, and set a flat stone the size of a vinyl record on top.

Bella set her kettle on top of the stone, flicked the side with her finger three times, and stood back as red runes came alive and quickly heated the container with a small hiss. All the while, the cloth seemed to absorb any stray heat from the stone, keeping the desk unharmed.

Just how many enchanted items does Bella have? I thought. She’s got a floating Spotifee player and now a magic hot plate?

Bubbles and steam rattled around inside the tin kettle while Bella pulled out some wooden tea strainers and filled them with leaves that smelled of mint.

A few minutes later, we were seated at a small corner table next to one of Bella’s windows.

“You know, there are times I have no idea what to design for a customer. It’s rare, but it does happen. And when I get flustered, I like to sit here with a cup of tea and quietly watch the citizens of Kylson walk by my shop.

Bella offered me a little tray of sugar. I picked up two cubes with a tiny set of silver tongs and dropped them into my steaming tea. It was only after looking at the tray again that I realized the sugar matched the cushioned stools we sat on.

The tailor’s talons scratched against the wooden legs of her stool as she slowly stirred her ambrosia-colored tea. The scent of warm mint filled our table.

Steam drifted up from our cups and danced around our lips as we each took a light sip of the tea. Even with a small taste, the flavor of mint was potent. I drew its warmth into me again and again, braving slightly bigger sips with each drink.

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“It’s good, but does it meet the approval of a divine being?” Bella asked with that same small grin on her face.

I stared down at the tablecloth beneath the sugar tray. Embroidered feathers spilled across the fabric that bore not a single stain.

“I’m not really — that is, um. I wasn’t always . . . you see, the thing is,” I tried and failed to say so many sentences.

Bella took another sip of her tea and then leaned forward, placing her chin in the palm of her hand.

“You know, altering an outfit can take a little while.”

Panic gripped me as I sputtered and looked over at the outfits again, worrying that I was wasting someone’s time. Always, that was a cardinal sin where I came from. I didn’t dare waste anyone’s time, especially not with any of my nonsense.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll pick one right now, and we can —” I started before Bella interrupted me, placing a hand on mine.

“You misunderstand. Altering a dress or a pair of pants can take a little while, so I often listen to the stories of my customers. You’d be surprised what people are willing to say to a stranger that they wouldn’t to their friends or family. I’ve heard some truly remarkable tales. I suspect, if you were given the same opportunity, you would have a few yarns of your own to spin, no?”

I didn’t know what to say to that. So I drank more tea.

Outside, a man walked by with his boyfriend, laughing about a play they’d just seen. Each seemed in high spirits.

“There’s something I haven’t told Juno yet. I’m not sure how she’ll react,” I said, staring down at my drink.

“Well, you know, I’m sworn to secrecy by the Tailor’s Oath. Anything said behind the curtain stays back there,” Bella said.

Considering her words, I finished my tea.

Yeah. . . why not? I thought, feeling lulled by the music, the comfy stool, and the warm drink sloshing around inside of me. She’s not going to tell anyone.

We sat there in silence for a few more minutes, watching people walk by Vonatelli’s. Two girls ran by kicking a ball between them. An older woman and her wife held hands and carried home vegetables from a nearby produce stand. Just outside the window, a nobleman wearing a fancy gray jacket and pants was being pushed in a wheelchair, chatting excitedly with the guy behind him. Across the way, a shellback rode a pony slowly through the crowd, saddlebags packed with empty bottles and other glassware.

Steeling myself, I turned toward Bella and said, “I think I’m ready to pick a dress.” And I half-believed myself when I said that.

She just nodded, emptied her tea, and walked with me back over to the clothing racks. I pulled aside shirts, blouses, tank tops, and more until I found a dress made of what looked like thin tiger fur.

I raised an eyebrow at her as Bella laughed and said, “Oh, don’t worry. No poor creature died to make that. It’s created with paints and dyes.”

Feeling a silly grin at the edge of my lips, I deepened my voice and said, “This is the skin of a killer, Bella.”

She cocked her head to the side while I snickered.

“Just a. . . silly joke from the land I once called home.”

Bella shrugged, and I continued to move aside different outfits until, at last, I came to a thin blue dress with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. Tiny white dots were painted on the sides to look like refracted light. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever wanted to wear.

And I was so captured with the thought of wearing this dress and drinking tea in the presence of a governess and her ex-assassin bodyguards and Juno that I didn’t even realize I was carrying the dress to where it’d be altered until I was halfway across the room.

All at once, I seemed to snap out of a trance and briefly paused.

Bella stood beside me.

“I’ve seen that look in more eyes than you might believe, Tilda. When you’ve chosen a piece, and all the world seems right as you hold it. You know the future is set with you wearing the fabric in your very hands. Truly, it’s one of my favorite parts of being a tailor.”

This drew out another smile in me, and the hootwing led me over to a corner of the shop tucked away behind curtains and wood-paneled room dividers.

Inside the curtains stood a raised platform surrounded by several full-length mirrors. Bella closed the curtains and asked, “I need to take measurements if that’s okay with you. Are you comfortable with me standing close and running a tape measure along parts of your body?”

I nodded, and Bella got to work. She measured my legs, my waist, my height, and even my breasts. When she held the tape tight across my chest, I lightly cleared my throat. Her touch was professional, but that didn’t mean it lacked intimacy. For the brief seconds that her fingers wrapped the tape measure around my bosom, I tried not to breathe. Then, I remembered Bella mentioning the Tailor’s Oath, whatever that was.

And, feeling secure in the tailor’s privacy, I started to spit out words. I started with, “I used to be a boy — er, a man. Back in the place where I came from.”

Bella kept her eyes on the tape measure.

“Is that right?” she asked without much concern. Her tone was noncommittal where I instead expected at least light mockery.

“I. . . lived as a man for several years, a miserable man, I’m learning, but a man all the same. Until one day, this boy was playing where he shouldn’t have been. And I died trying to save him.”

Bella nodded.

“And did you?”

“Did I what?” I asked, looking at her.

“Did you save him,” she clarified.

Thinking back to the letter from Opha, I nodded. If the Third Goddess of Fate told me I’d saved the boy, I believed her.

“So,” Bella said, having me change into the dress and getting to work on the place my fluffy poof of a tail would sit. “What happened next?”

I swallowed and thought back to my chat with Opha — or rather, my lack of a chat. It was all pretty one-sided. She wasn’t even in the room. Where was she, anyway? Did the Third Goddess of Fate have a poker night with the other gods of Fate?

“Well, um, you may find it difficult to believe. But Opha tasked me with coming here and answering Juno’s prayers.”

Bella thought for a few minutes, quietly working on the dress, pulling on it now and again before letting parts of it fall loose. Before long, my tail was pushing through the fabric and sitting behind me.

The tailor smirked and lightly flicked it with her middle finger.

I let out a mighty squeak and flinched upward as she giggled.

“Sorry. Fabric got caught,” she lied, poorly. “Right, and Opha turned you into a Bunny Goddess? Even though you were a man?”

I slowly shook my head. That didn’t quite line up with the truth. But I also couldn’t explain uPhones and Ciri to Bella.

“Well, not quite. She let me. . . choose how I would be reborn into this world. I didn’t exactly know what I wanted, so I asked to be soft and lucky. When I appeared at the shrine Juno prayed at, I found myself both of those things.”

Bella had me spin a little as she got to work on the skirt. Outside, a wagon must have banged into the wall because I heard a loud THUD before someone swore, and a horse clopped away.

“Yeah, you must have really been the answer to her prayers,” Bella said.

“What do you mean?”

She looked up at me, which was a first since I’d been reborn in this tiny body.

“I’ve known Juno for a long time. She’s been a messenger ever since she lost —” Bella’s voice trailed off. “Well, for a while. That poor woman’s had her fair share of trouble. Wore a glass smile everywhere she went. Wouldn’t let anyone travel with her. But today, when she came traipsing in here with you, I saw a light in her eyes that’s not been lit in my presence before. So whatever you were before, whatever you are now, Luck Bunny, you’re clearly the cause.”

And where I expected that to be a world of pressure, I suddenly felt light in my feet and in my heart. Knowing that I’d made such a difference to someone as kind as Juno just by showing up when her faith needed it most was like a little boost of dopamine.

I should have been nervous about letting her down or failing to answer her prayers for more luck. Instead, I just felt warm in my chest at knowing my arrival meant so much to her.

“Do I understand correctly that you’re afraid of telling Juno you used to be a boy?”

That seemed like a slight oversimplification, but I nodded. I knew that she deserved the truth, but dammit, I also needed time to put the exact words together just right. Was this the pressure queer folks back on Earth felt when deciding to tell people who they are? Or were? Because it wasn’t a fun feeling. It sort of swallowed pieces of the dopamine I’d just been given.

“I’ve only been a girl for a day, but it’s also been — like — the BEST day. I didn’t realize how bad I felt being a guy until I became a girl. And now, it’s like every second I get to live as this Luck Bunny leaves me feeling giddy and wishing I’d gotten to so much sooner.”

Bella listened quietly as she adjusted the neckline of my dress.

“You see, it’s like I spent my entire life on fire. And when Opha dropped me here, it was like the first place I landed was a bucket of water. Now the fire’s gone, and I’m a. . . a girl. A girl who isn’t on fire, no matter what Alicia Keys says. You know?”

“Well, I don’t know who this Alicia woman is you’re talking about, but I’ve made dresses for plenty of girls who told me similar stories to yours before. Back in the other world you came from, how did you know you were a boy?”

I thought for a moment, picturing everything from seventh-grade biology class to time spent showering in the locker room at Planet Fitwiz. I thought about my body and the time I used to spend standing in front of the mirror just sighing for hours on end.

“I guess. . . because the doctor said so?”

“A doctor told you that you were a boy?”

I slowly waved my head back and forth thinking of how to describe it.

“Where I came from. . . when you’re born the doctor says you’re a boy or a girl, depending on, well, your bits.”

Nearly dropping her needle and thread, Bella paused to stare at me like I’d just said the dumbest fucking thing imaginable. Kid standing at the chalkboard having written “2 + 2 = 7” level dumb.

“That’s. . . not how you do it in Fevara?” I asked.

“Gods no! How’s a baby supposed to know if it’s a boy or a girl? How would it know if it’s both or neither? That’s arrogance on a level I’ve never heard before. Things are a little different across Fevara, depending on the country, but generally, kids are raised free of such expectations. At some point, they just know. And they tell folks. Though, sometimes, they have to take a second or third try before they get it just right. And I’ve made plenty of dresses for girls who started life as boys and then figured things out a little later. It’s no big deal.”

Outside the shop, a singing duo walked by, practicing an unflattering song about a previous governor who was much less popular than Lynn. I couldn’t quite make out all the words, but these two did NOT like someone named. . . Randall? Or Rhubarb?

The Fevara way of raising kids makes way more sense when I think about it. Plus, they probably don’t start forest fires because of gender reveal parties, I thought.

We continued chatting about Bella’s history taking over the shop from her father. She talked a lot about her half-sister Mila, who joined the family when Toni remarried later in life. The girls got along rather well.

It occurred to me that I hadn’t looked in any of the mirrors once since changing into the dress. In fact, for the last several minutes as Bella finished up her alterations, I’d kept my eyes shut.

“Maybe you never were a boy,” Bella suddenly blurted out, pulling the dress down a bit. “I mean — seems to me if you were that miserable in your old life, you probably always were a girl. And arriving here in Fevara, you’re still a girl. It’s just more obvious now. Does that seem at all possible?”

I bit my tongue. Again, the tailor had a way of oversimplifying things. None of what she’d said could be that easy, right? Wanting something didn’t make it so. At least, that’s what I was always raised to believe. “Spit in one hand, and want in the other. See which one fills up faster,” my grandfather always said.

When I didn’t answer, Bella asked an even simpler question.

“Tilda, do you want to be a girl?”

I nodded without hesitation.

“Then that’s your compass, so to speak. What you were. What you thought you were. What you became. Throw all that out the window for a little bit and just be a girl. Besides, a man wouldn’t look nearly as cute in this dress, darling.”

My heart caught in my throat. I took a deep breath, or as deep a breath as I was able. And I said the truth aloud.

“I’m a girl.”

“And so you are. Open your eyes, Luck Bunny.”

All I’d wanted for as long as I could remember was to look in the mirror and be happy with what I saw. I wanted to be pretty, even if I didn’t have the words to say so. I wanted to be soft in a world that only valued people who were tough and firm.

I thought about who I’d see in the mirror when I opened my eyes. The person staring back at me after all Bella’s hard work.

The words formed in my mind. I hope I’m beautiful. I hope the girl I see is as soft as I’ve always dreamt of. I hope. . .

Suddenly, there was no more wondering. She looked back at me. The woman in the mirror stood with a gaze of disbelief and excitement. The shocked expression, the wide eyes, the frozen lips curled in wonder. The mirror woman never imagined that she could look as beautiful as this.

The soft bunny girl slowly moved her hands up to her chin to make sure the image was really hers.

“What do you think?” Bella asked. “I think she looks pretty good.”

And I couldn’t say anything because I was too busy crying. But dammit. They were good tears. Tears that’d waited so very long to fall.