“Just one moment!” I call out from the back of the shop.
I set my book face down on the table so as to not lose my place.
“Take your time,” calls out a sweet, familiar voice.
“Seraphina!” I call cheerfully, making my way towards the front of the shop. “How have you been?”
“I’ve got a place to stay for the time being. I’ve also found work at a flower shop.”
“I’m glad to hear it. When can I visit?”
“The moment I’ve settled down, I’ll let you know. I’ve still not seen Arthur, can you believe it? He just keeps sending me letters.”
“You’re better off, trust me. I see too much of him sometimes.”
“Speak of the devil,” giggles Seraphina, racing to hide behind the counter.
The shop bell rings as Arthur and Lucien step in. Lucien is smiling brightly, making my heart flutter, and he immediately meets my gaze.
“Luna, tell Lucien he’s being ridiculous,” cries Arthur in agony the moment he spots me.
“Arthur,” I chide. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“You’re both against me,” he complains, now pouting. “You’re the worst thing that’s happened to him, I swear.”
“You make it so easy,” Lucien teases.
“You really do,” I agree.
“Hello, Luna,” Lucien confidently looks me up, and down while Arthur is distracted.
“Hello, Lucien!” I grin, cheerfully.
“Hello, Seraphina,” he says, grabbing onto Arthur’s arm before he can make his escape.
Seraphina appears from her hiding place behind the counter, and sprints around it to throw her arms around Arthur. She squeezes him in a tight hug, which he desperately tries to escape.
“You idiot,” she cries. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m engaged.”
“You keep saying that, but I keep telling you she’s not going to marry you.”
“You’re absolutely insane.”
I take a seat at the counter, and watch them. Lucien approaches me, stands at my side, and rests his elbow on the countertop, nudging me playfully. I glance at him from the corner of my eye; his glistening eyes, and the beautiful way his long braid slips down his shoulder and sways.
“Almost ready to return home?” He asks me, quietly.
“I am,” I sigh. “My belongings are packed, and I’ll be headed out in the morning. It’s going to be so strange seeing my family. Especially after Marcellus wrote to me that Solera is engaged. I should be returning in time for the wedding.”
“Engaged to Marcellus?” He grins.
“No,” I chuckle. “She’s had a friend that’s been in love with her since the day they met, she’s just been so oblivious.”
“Like you?”
“Hmm?” I look over at him. “What do you mean?”
“You mentioned Marcellus didn’t realize you liked him.”
“Oh, yeah… It was like that. I’ll be making my return journey with my sisters after Solera’s wedding, by the way. My sisters have both been accepted into the Academy.”
“Your parents must be overjoyed.”
“They are. I’m glad I don’t have to share a room with them.”
“Why not? You’ve shared with them before.”
“I have, but I prefer to be with three people that leave me alone,” I laugh. “Not two people that will pry into my personal business.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, they don’t typically change your room until you’re studying for level five.”
“I can’t wait until then. I’ve never had my own room.”
“You haven’t? That sounds dreadful. How could you have never experienced that joy?”
“Well, you’re right about one thing; It’s dreadful.”
“And how is Marcellus?”
“He seems eager to see me again…”
“But…?”
“Uh, nothing. I can’t wait to see him again?”
“Are you asking me?” he chuckles.
“No.”
“What’s bothering you?” He asks quietly, leaning closer to me.
“I… Just… Think he’s more eager than I am,” I say quietly. “I’m afraid he wants to talk again about… We haven’t spoken since he visited. I’m the worst person ever, aren’t I?”
“At least I didn’t have to say it.”
He leans forward against the counter, resting his chin on the table, and we both watch Arthur and Seraphina talk to each other about things neither of us know anything about in harsh whispers, vague references, and strange gestures.
“I thought you were excited,” he glances over at me.
“I am excited, it just feels… Like I’m going to be a stranger to them.”
“A stranger?” He leans in closer to me.
“It feels like-”
The shop bell rings, and I stand at attention.
“Madam Treeleaf! You weren’t supposed to be back so soon.”
“Well, it’s my shop, and I see everyone else is here. Good to see you, Seraphina. Why are you here?” She asks, eyeing her from head to toe, then looking over at Arthur who looks angry. “I see. Luna, you can go home, I need to close the shop for the day. Everybody out!”
Seraphina looks panicked. “Madam Treeleaf, I’m sorry if I’ve-”
“It’s not you, Seraphina. It’s none of you. I’ve had a long day, and a terrible headache. I’m going to drink a few potions, and take a long nap. It’s just a shame it’s happening during the busiest time of the year, but I simply cannot stay here for the rest of the day.”
“I could watch the shop for you,” I suggest. “So you don’t have to miss out. I already know how to do almost everything, and Lucien knows how to do the rest.”
“Uh…” she seems a little apprehensive, then gives Lucien and me a warm smile. “Very well. I suppose I could trust you to run it for the rest of the evening. Do not hesitate to shut down for the day if it becomes overwhelming. Arthur and Seraphina, if you’re going to fight, do so outside my shop. I don’t need to be associated with… whatever it is you’ve been arguing about. Or you can both stay here and help Lucien and Luna, they’ll need it.”
“We weren’t arguing about anything,” grumbles Arthur.
“I could hear you from the street!” She cries out.
Arthur retreats to the furthest corner of the shop. Lucien and I exchange glances, and quietly snicker.
“Sorry, Madam Treeleaf,” Arthur apologizes. “I’ll be going.”
“I’ll go, too,” says Seraphina, with her head hanging in shame.
“Lucien, go check on your potions,” she commands. “They’re probably ready, since they’ve been cooling all night.”
Lucien races to the back of the shop without hesitation.
Madam Treeleaf wanders around, and picks out a minor healing potion, soothing potion, and a potion for dulling the senses. She places several copper coins on the counter, and I move them into the box.
“I… um… I’m supposed to log this, correct?” I ask, taking up my pen and the shop’s book logs.
“Log everything, Luna.”
“Of course,” I say, writing her name down, the potions she gathered, and the amount paid.
“Well, you’re all set. I hope you recover from your ailment.”
She grumbles, and turns away from me, then stops abrupty. “Goodnight, Luna.”
“Don’t worry about the shop. We’ve watched you work. We can handle it for one night.”
She smiles warmly, then walks out. I race towards the back of the shop, where Lucien is pulling some pots off the heat, and removing some enchanted papers from several others.
“Want to help me bottle these up and label them?”
He grunts as he places the hot pot on a cooling rack, and takes another with him to place on the work table lined with bottles and blank labels.
“Fetch a funnel, would you?” He asks. “I don’t know why we can’t put cooling enchantments on these. They’d be useful.”
“Sure,” I say, handing him a funnel with three spouts at the bottom. “Didn’t Madam Treeleaf say she didn’t trust them? And she doesn’t want them to shatter if they cool off too quickly?”
“Can you begin writing the labels? Your handwriting is better than mine, according to you,” he shakes his hands, and cracks his knuckles, preparing for the task at hand. “And she did say that, but it’s still annoying.”
“Sure. I can help prepare them with you, though. You still need to fill them.”
“There’s no need. You’re leaving soon, you said? Tomorrow morning?”
“It doesn’t mean I can’t be helpful. I’m packed, and I’m going to be here for the rest of the day at least. What are we even preparing? I don’t know what to write on these labels. It looks like Stamina.”
“It is. Oh, here,” he says, pulling a small vial out of his apron pocket, and setting it before me. “Tuck that way in your bag.”
“What is it? Another one of Master Eaimer’s concoctions?”
“Yes… I think he’s fond of you. I wrote to him that you would be traveling home, and he sent me a recipe that would heal your body of aches as you make your journey. It’s enough for your return, as well. He’s being strangely thoughtful. He’d never do such a thing for me. He also thanks you for your sketches. If I’d known your sisters would be returning with you, I would have made them one.”
“I’m sure it’ll be alright. You can make it for them next time we make the journey back. I just hope one day I can meet Master Eaimer. I have to thank him for helping me with my whirlwind spell. I would have never passed the exam without him.”
“I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you. He said he’s never met such a meticulous note taker… except himself, of course. If you’re not careful he’s going to ask the Academy if he can finish teaching you himself.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”
“Not yet, it doesn’t, but you haven’t had to sit in a cold pool of water for hours at a time to ‘become water’.”
“Would he do that to me?”
Lucien laughs, then shrugs. “He’s unpredictable.”
I set aside a few labels for the stamina potions, allowing the ink to dry as I line up more sheets of paper, while Lucien begins to ladle the potion into a funnel sitting over bottles clustered in threes. We fall into a natural rhythm after the first few are completed.
“I’d happily learn from him,” I comment.
“He’d be glad to teach you. You can label these.”
I brush an adhesive onto the bottles, and begin pressing the labels to them two at a time.
“Madam Treeleaf has certainly helped me with potions. Do you think she’ll allow me to work here until I reach level six?”
“The way she speaks of you, she’d hire you permanently if you wished.”
“Ha!” I snort. “I joked about opening a potion shop in Bellehaven when I completed my level one because I was so bad at it. I can’t wait to tell Miss Eisley I’m working in one now, and the owner actually likes me because it turns out I’m pretty good at it.”
Lucien chuckles, and it makes me smile to hear it. I begin writing a few more labels, listening to the sound of Lucien pouring the potion into bottles, and adding stoppers to them as he quietly hums to himself.
When I run out of labels to write, I line all of the labeled potions in a box, and place them on a shelf to be stocked later. The bell rings, and I dust my hands off on my apron, and step into the front of the shop.
“Hello, madam. What sort of potion can I get for you?”
“Um,” the woman says shyly. “My husband and I… We’d like a child.”
“Ah, fertility potion will be just the thing. One moment.”
I walk to the back room, and search the shelves. Fertility potions are not typically kept at the front of the shop, or commonly sought out. I sift through a box filled with vials, and find what I’m looking for.
“You’re in luck, this was our last one. I’ll make a note to have several more made. Typically no more than two are needed, and most people only need one.”
“Thank you.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“That will be one silver and seven copper.”
The woman places the coins on the counter. I slip the coins into the box, and hand her the vial.
“This will be… potent?” She asks, shyly.
“Yes, madam. We sell only the best potions here. If you’re ever unsatisfied, you may return when Madam Treeleaf is here.”
She leaves the shop with a slight nod, and I return to the back, where Lucien is now labeling the remaining potions himself.
“Make sure they're straight,” I scold him.
“You’re the only one that notices when they’re not.”
“Unhand the labels, then. I’ll do it myself.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he mumbles.
“Seriously, get back to filling the bottles. You’re better at that.”
“Luna,” he gasps dramatically. “Where are your manners? Did you forget them at the counter up front?”
I nudge him playfully, and snatch the labels from his hands. He huffs, then continues filling the bottles.
“I can fill the next batch, if you’d like.”
“Please do. I’ll make sure to make the most imperfect labels for you.”
“Why?” I whine, taking a giant pot off a cooling rack sitting on a counter in the corner.
“Because I like the way you scrunch your face when you’re upset, and the way you put your hands on your hips, as if you can scare me into changing my mind.”
I click my tongue.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I do,” I laugh. “Is that why you hang out with Arthur?”
“It’s not the only reason, but it’s one of them.”
I feel his eyes staring at me. I lift the pot off the counter and place it on the work table. The labeled potions are placed neatly into a box, and join the shelves with the others.
“What’s this next batch? More stamina potions?” I ask.
“No, but close. Revitalization.”
“Really? Why is it… so green?”
“Madam Treeleaf wanted it to have more healing properties.”
“I’ll have to be careful labeling these. I’m going to get confused.”
I write more labels, then set them aside for the ink to dry. The filled potion bottles are wiped clean of any spilled liquid, and stoppers are put in.
“You’ll… write when you return home safely?” He mumbles quietly.
“O-Oh… if you’d like. I don’t think I’ll have a very exciting visit.”
“I…” he stops to look at me, but I ignore his gaze. “I would… like it if you wrote.”
“You’ll keep me updated on things around here, then?”
“Absolutely, and I’ll be sure to have some honey cake waiting for your return with your sisters.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is, though.”
I look up at him, and he smiles the moment my heart begins to pound in my chest. I move the prepared potions to the shelf.
“Hmm, it’ll be too bad if you don’t have any. I guess I’d have to eat it all myself,” he says in a sing-song tone.
“Fine, fine,” I sigh.
“I knew you couldn’t resist. In fact, I have some for you now, if you want.”
“How? That must be so costly. Where are you getting all this cake?”
“I made it myself. Master Eaimer simply provides the honey.”
“You made it… yourself?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Honestly?” I huff. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“I can’t uh… Oh! I can’t wait to uh… meet your sisters. It’ll be so strange seeing three different Lunas at the Academy.”
“I’ve warned them about Arthur already.”
“Good, now find work to do, since you insist on being here all day.”
Ingredients, tools, and potion bottles of all shapes and sizes litter the counters, and I can only think about poor Madam Treeleaf not being well enough to tidy up when the shop closes for the night. I watch Lucien for a moment, and decide it’s best to get the worst of it over with now, instead of waiting until I’m too tired.
“And I’ve warned Arthur about them,” he mentions.
“Thank you. Do you think he’ll actually listen?”
He hums thoughtfully. “He might. He’s not completely heartless.”
“How did his little game play out this year?”
“I think he gave up when his father threatened to keep him away from the Academy. Rumors were beginning to spread.”
“That’s a relief.”
Using an old, dirty rag, I wipe off some residue from the counter, then go on a quest in search of a cleaner one.
“He’s required to send regular correspondence home, now.”
“I wonder what his father must be like. Have you met him? Is he like Arthur at all? It would explain so much,” I murmur, getting increasingly irritated by the mess in the shop. “Where are the clean rags? I could have sworn I’d done the washing.”
“He’s only ever mentioned that his father is cold and distant. And I know he cares deeply for his brother despite what he says. They both care very much about each other. You did do the washing, and then you hung it outside to dry. You’re lucky it didn’t rain.”
“I forget the two of you are so close sometimes, the way you bicker.”
A lengthy clothes line runs across the garden with rags draped over it, and not a single exposed surface of the line remaining. I take the rags down one at a time, and place them into a basket. Once inside, I begin to fold them as neatly and quickly as I can.
“I did tell you he was an acquired taste. He’s always been difficult to get along with, and somehow, he manages to make friends everywhere he goes. Besides, if there’s anyone who could understand what my life is like, he would. He just approaches it differently.”
“Is that right? And what kind of life is that? Being insanely attractive?”
He turns to face me, his mouth open.
“You think he’s attractive?” He manages to force out, holding back his laughter.
“Of course.”
“You think I’m attractive?”
“Lucien, you’re a dark elf.”
“You- You find Arthur attractive?”
I laugh at him. “Don’t ever tell him I admitted that.”
“We look nothing alike.”
“You’re attractive in different ways. Why are we still talking about this?” I turn away, cheeks burning, and focus on my folding.
“Luna, I won’t ever bring up this conversation again, but we can’t stop now. I’m far too invested.”
“You promise?”
“I swear on Selene herself that if I ever bring up this conversation again, she may rain down lightning and smite me.”
“Dramatic, but… alright. Arthur has that confidence. He knows what his life will be like, he’s accepted it, and he’s going to do what he wishes. And you…”
“Me?” He asks.
“You promise?”
“Selene smite me if I break my promise,” he says, placing one hand on his chest, and holding the other out towards the heavens.
“I… love the way the moonlight shines off your skin, and the way your braid sways behind you when you walk. I love the way your brow furrows when you’re trying to understand the most fundamental thing about your spellwork, because you still get so ridiculously obsessed with something you’re naturally gifted at. I especially like the way my name rolls off your lips… Um… Please forget that last part.”
“Lun… Luna, you’re making me blush.”
“Don’t… You’re… just… stop!” I groan, irritably. “It’s not important.”
There’s a long pause between us, while he’s waiting for me to speak, but I refuse.
“I need to finish up,” he says, his face a dark shade of blue.
I sit down, and return to my folding, leaving one rag aside for cleaning, and another for the mess Lucien will likely be making as he finishes up his work. The pile of folded rags are set on a shelf with the other cleaning supplies in the storage closet, and I take a few with me to wipe down each surface I come by, determined to leave the shop spotless for when Madam Treeleaf returns.
“I’m glad you chose to stay with me in the shop today. I was dreading cleaning up the mess I made yesterday,” Lucien says, quietly
“Well, now that you’ve told me Madam Treeleaf likes me so much, I really should start slacking off. She might never let go of me, and I have a world to see.”.
“You’re going to leave me with all the work like Arthur?”
“I could. I’ve built up a wonderful reputation.”
“You could never.”
“I could never. You’re right.”
When the last of the potions are labeled, placed in a box, then set on a shelf, Lucien and I clean every surface until the shop is spotless. We begin to create the final batches of potions for the evening which include different batches of elemental resistances used by those traveling to Ibis Islands or Zelfari.
“Does anyone take this potion when going to the Grove?”
“Of course. Everyone always gets cold so easily.”
“I should have guessed. Does that mean you get hot easily?”
“I’m like a furnace when I sleep, I’ve heard.”
“Oh? Are you? And who told you that?”
“Hmm, I can’t remember,” he says, with a cheeky grin.
I roll my eyes at him, not wanting to tread on delicate topics again. “Do you think I can use it to keep warm on the road? It’s been so cold, and it's only been getting colder. I also didn’t have enough coins to get my coat mended, so I’ll be a bit miserable on the road.”
“The potion Master Eaimer made will help with that, but are you telling me you’re going to travel with a torn cloak, and you don’t know how to mend it yourself?”
“I just haven’t had time.”
“Did you bring it with you?”
“Yes… I’ve only got one,” I hesitate. “But it’s fine.”
“Luna,” he chides. “Bring it to me. I’ll fix it for you.”
After fetching my cloak from a hook by the back door, I toss it at Lucien, who catches it with one hand. He spreads it out on the table, noticing the obvious tear running right down the middle of it.
“How did that even happen?”
I groan. “It got snagged, and I pulled it. I didn’t realize the strange sound I was hearing was the fabric ripping until it was too late. I was so exhausted from studying for an exam I’d completed, and my work at the shop, I’ve had no time to tend to it.”
Lucien searches the back room, eventually standing on a chair so he can search through the top shelves. After some minutes, he pulls down a small box from one of the highest ones.
“What color would you like your patch to be?” He asks, holding up two long pieces of black fabric with a wide grin.
“The uh… black one, but the other black one might add some variety to the color.”
“Choose carefully.”
“I think I’ll take… the left black one.”
“Good choice,” he says, placing one of the strips of fabric back on the shelf. “Sit. I’m going to show you how to mend your own clothing.”
“It’s fine, I know how to do it, it just takes me so long. I’m always stabbing myself with the needle. Just don’t be alarmed if you see the table covered in blood.”
“Then take a seat, and repair your cloak, then. I’ll mind the shop. There’s not much left to do anyway.”
He pushes a spool of thread into my hand, places a pair of scissors on the table, then finds a needle in a small repair kit. I take the needle from him, and thread it, annoyed that I’ve mentioned anything about it. He takes up the box of potions I’ve stored on the shelf to set out at the front of the shop. When the shelves are stocked, he returns with what’s remaining, and places them back on the shelf.
“It’s strange the shop is so empty,” grumbles Lucien.
“Madam Treeleaf said it will be much busier closer to the late afternoon, and tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to help you then.”
“That is quite unfortunate, but I’m sure Madam Treeleaf will be back in the morning.”
I tie a knot at the end of the thread, then snip the remainder off.
“I’m done. It’s repaired,” I announce, proudly.
Lucien walks up behind me, and observes my work.
“Excellent. Your sewing is as meticulous as everything else you do.”
The shop door rings, and I can hear a large crowd gathering. I set my cloak aside, and return the needle and thread to their rightful places.
“Hello,” I say, when I step out from the back room. “Please step up to the counter in an orderly fashion.”
I take my place at the front of the shop as the crowd organizes itself.
“What would you like?” I ask the first customer.
The evening is ceaseless chaos as the crowds continue to form. When, at last, the final patron walks out the door, Lucien locks up behind them, and draws all the curtains closed. The shelves are sparse, and only the priciest of potions remain. We sigh with relief to be almost finished with the day. I pick up stray boxes scattered about the floor, and begin to stock the shelves with anything remaining from the back room. Lucien takes up a cauldron, and begins to prepare the next day’s potions.
We collapse at the table in the back, and nibble away at the honey cake we never got the opportunity to enjoy.
“I’m going to miss-,” Lucien murmures the rest.
“You’re going to miss what?” I ask, happily chewing on a piece of cake.
“I’m going to miss you,” he murmurs more loudly.
I feel my cheeks burn, and look up at him with a wide grin. He looks flustered and frustrated, and Sweet Selene, I want to kiss those pouting lips.
“Are you? That’s nice of you,” I tease him.
“Luna… I’m being serious,” he says, sternly. “Can we be serious?”
“Well, I’m going to miss all this honey cake, so I suppose I’ll miss you, too.”
He smiles. “Honey cake? Not me?”
I won’t admit to him that I’ll miss his and Arthur’s company. Mostly his. I’ll be returning home to complete strangers, while Lucien and Arthur feel like my new family, and I’m praying for a happy union of the two when they finally meet. I’m looking forward to having my sisters make the return journey with me, to help with this uneasiness that’s been creeping upon me over the past few weeks. Maybe we’ll all laugh, and still be close, as if nothing has changed. If I’m lucky, I can still be the same person when I return, instead of hiding behind the person my sisters expect me to be. I feel a deep ache at the thought of leaving Lucien and Arthur behind if I’m not.
“I’ll admit, but only to you- So don’t say anything to Arthur! I will miss you both, but mostly you.”
“Because of the honey cake?”
“Because of the honey cake,” I agree, with a nod.
Lucien takes my hand, and holds it, tracing his thumb along my knuckles, a look of sadness on his face.
“You’re more upset than you should be,” I comment. “Is it because Arthur is going to remain?”
He lets out a forced chuckle.
“I don’t know what it is,” he sighs. “It’s hitting heavier than it should… the thought of your absence.”
What words! I should tease him, but how can he be so honest with me, when I’m not honest with him?
“…The shop will be lonelier without you. I spend too much time here, I suppose,” he grumbles.
“Why don’t you ask Arthur to help you tend to the shop while I’m gone. I’m sure he’d be dying for something to do to keep Seraphina away.”
“Possibly,” he sighs heavily.
“Oh, Lucien, you’re going to make me sad.”
He’s going to make me stay, but I have promises to keep.
“I promise you won’t even notice I’m gone,” I say, reassuringly. “It’ll feel as if time flew by, and you’ll have wondered if I’d even left at all. You are a dark elf, after all, and the passing of time will be quick.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” he grins.
“I can annoy you, if you’d like, so you’ll be happy I’ve gone.”
“No. You’ve… got some honey just there,” he points. “It won’t work. I like it when you annoy me.”
I lick my lips, unable to find where he’s pointing.
“No, it’s here,” he leans towards me, and places a tender kiss on my forehead.
“Lucien… What…”
I can’t speak. I can’t form words.
“Luna, say you’ll miss me,” he whispers into my ear.
“I did,” I whisper back, trying to sound light-hearted, despite my heart racing at his closeness.
I poke his side, making him flinch away, giving me a moment to catch my breath.
“Say you’ll miss me, and only me,” he whispers in a pleading tone.
I stare into the flames of his eyes, and he stares back intensely, his gaze burning me. His lips quiver, and I wonder briefly if they taste like honey, but quickly look away.
“What’s gotten into you?” I laugh nervously, moving away from him awkwardly. “Did Arthur put you up to this?”
“No!” he says, instantly irritated. “Luna, I-”
The shop door rings. Madam Treeleaf’s familiar stride resounds through the shop, and reaches the back door.
“Have a goodnight you two. Thank you for your hard work. I’ll see you in the morning, Lucien. We have many potions to stock tomorrow. As for you, Luna, safe travels.”
“Thank you, Madam Treeleaf,” Lucien and I say in unison.
We walk out of the shop and Lucien vanishes, reappearing far ahead of me. I struggle to catch up to him, but he ignores me when I call out to him.
“Please tell me what I did, Lucien. I know you’re there. You hate when I walk back to the Academy alone.”
“Fine,” he appears behind me.
“Talk to me.”
“You don’t want to have a serious talk.”
“Then just talk to me about something not serious.”
“You infuriate me.”
“What would you like me to say?”
We walk silently through the halls of the Academy, and stop just as we’re about to part ways.
“Here,” he says, pushing a small object into my hands. “You left it in the shop. Have a safe journey.”
“Thank you.”
The next morning, my heart is heavy. Arthur, bless him, waits for me at the gates, hands me more food for my journey, and hugs me before I leave. It’s awkward, but I’m grateful for it, as I almost cry. Almost. If I did cry, Arthur would think we were close, and even though we might be, I don’t want him to know it.