“What spell distorts time?” Lucien quizzes me.

“Hmm,” I hum. “It’s not Sky’s Dominion, that’s for sure. Let’s see… Which one has the scariest name? Uh… Astral Tempest.”

“Are you really guessing?”

“Well, I also remember the hand motions looking something like…”

I make a right angle with my hands, pointing the fingertips of my left hand to the elbow of the other, and moving my right arm down like the ticking hand of a timekeeper.

“You’re right. Which one helps to create lightning?”

“Tempest Wrath.”

“Good. And the main hand motion for that?”

“The same as its weaker, appropriately named friend, Tempest. You have to sort of…” I pull the air from above me down, and pull the air from the ground up, and force it together, forming a small static charge.

“You’ve gotten much better at that motion.”

“I am level five now, thank you very much.” I hold the corners of my apron and curtsy. “Next question.”

“What level is that spell?”

“Ah… let’s see… Level nine?”

“Very impressive, Miss Masters.”

“Thank you, Sir Moonshadow.”

His ears fall flat, and he vanishes into a shadowy mist. I hear the creaking in the roof as he walks around upstairs.

Peeking out the door into the shop, I spot a hooded figure. It turns to face me, then rushes to the door.

“Luna?”

“Hello, Cyrus. What brings you here?”

“Have you seen Lucien? He hasn’t been responding to my letters.”

Madam Lyra coughs politely, and shakes her head slightly.

“I haven’t seen him lately.”

“Well, he still works here, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, but I haven’t seen him for several months. I’ve been busy with my examinations at the Academy. This is the first time I’ve been back in-” Madam Treeleaf holds up two fingers, then begins busying herself with the shop. “Two weeks.”

“Well, if you see him, please give him this letter for me.”

He pushes an envelope into my hands with a strange symbol on the seal of wax.

“Sure,” I say, tucking the letter into my apron pocket.

“And when he’s ready to stop being such a FUCKING COWARD!” He shouts facing the ceiling. “He can send a response to the address inside.”

“Right. I’ll be sure to let him know the moment I see him.”

“I’m not… angry,” he scowls.

“Right,” I smile nervously.

He bows slightly to me and Madam Lyra, and exits the shop.

Madam Lyra gives me an irritated look. “Are either of you going to tell me what that’s about?”

“He’s… an ex-boyfriend of Lucien’s.”

“I gathered that much already.”

“That’s all I know, unfortunately.”

She puts her hands on her hips, and gives me a doubtful look. I feel the shift in the air when Lucien appears at my side, grateful he’s come to my rescue.

“I’m not ready to talk to him. Sorry about the trouble, Madam Lyra. I’ll ask him not to come here anymore.”

“Well, the two of you better not cause any scenes near my shop. I can’t have any more shows like Arthur and Seraphina. Do you understand? This is the most respectable shop in the city. People don’t come here to listen to whatever that whole thing was, unless you’re going to let me in on it.”

“Yes, Madam Lyra.”

“Lucien, dear,” she says, quickly getting back to her work. “Have you received anything for me from Master Eaimer?”

“Not yet,” he sighs. “You know I give you his letters the moment they arrive.”

“Of course,” she says, returning to reorganizing the bottles on the shelf, and begins to hum. “Get back to work, both of you. We’re almost out of healing potions.”

Lucien and I glance at each other amused, and return to the back of the shop.

“So, what did Cyrus want?” I ask, handing Lucien the envelope when he returns downstairs from the attic. “Also, I’ve noticed you’re making me do too much work today. I feel like I’m here by myself.”

“You’ve been slacking, anyway. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“My mind is too full of studies, I just get a bit lost in thought.”

“What thoughts are those?”

“There was a gentleman here earlier with very attractive features. He looked like your type. What’s in the letter?”

“He… wants me… back. He keeps apologizing and promising to change, but…”

“But? You don’t miss the soft breathing of him at your back, or the weight of his arms around you in the night? What about the smell of smoke and sage when you…” I realize I’m talking about him, and blush.

“No,” he sighs, looking disappointed, having not caught on. “I don’t think about those things anymore.”

I pour us both a cup of wine, and sit on the table. He sits next to me, pulling my legs over his lap.

“You know you can talk to me, Lucien.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs. “I just can’t yet. I’m still trying to figure it out myself. I just… I love him, but…”

“But?”

“You know already.”

“Yeah, he has so many other issues.”

I play with one of the braids that sits at his ears.

“Luna, I don’t know, but when I’m with you, I…”

He frowns when I tug both of his braids to keep him from talking, because my heart might burst out of my chest.

“I’m listening.” I smile.

“Are you? You seem distracted,” he says, tugging his braids out of my hands.

He moves my cup away from my lap, and sets it down behind us.

“Your hair is much nicer at this length. Remember when you cut it? I couldn’t believe he didn’t like your braid.”

He leans back, and his braids slip out of my hands. “Luna, I mean it when I say that I love you. I can’t even stop thinking about that kiss. It plays over and over in my mind.”

“We shouldn’t have done that.”

“What? Don’t say that!” He furrows his brows. “I want…”

“You want?”

“Nothing,” he blushes.

“It probably didn’t help things,” I grumble, and stare off into the fire in the corner of the shop.

Lucien places an arm around me, and rests his head on my shoulder. “It… helped quite a bit, actually.”

“Oh, did it?”

I tug his braid again, and he pulls me forward. A fire has been lit inside me, and I kiss him before I realize it.

“What is going on back there?” Shouts Madam Lyra. “Stop playing around, Luna!”

Lucien chuckles, and points to the far corner of the shop. We make our way to the storage closet, and resume where we left off. Lucien lifts me onto one of the shorter shelves, pressing me against the wall. Our kisses grow more passionate and deeper. It’s only when his hand has made its way beneath my tunic that I’m suddenly alert.

“What are we doing?” I get to my feet. “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s too soon.”

“Luna-”

“No! We can’t do this.”

“Luna, what’s the matter?”

I rush out of the closet, to remove my apron, and take up my cloak.

“Sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you later. I think I’m still too tired from my studies.”

“Luna!”

He pulls at my wrist. I turn to face him, defeated. He pulls me into his embrace, and I can’t escape, feeling weakened by the scent of him.

“What do you want, you big idiot?” I ask, trying to force out a laugh.

He kisses me fiercely, and I’m lost in him; the softness of his lips, and the firm grip of his hands at my waist holding me in place.

When he stops, I take a deep breath, and pull him in for another kiss.

Moments later, we’re inside the storage closet again, fighting for the same breath of air, panting, with hands roaming freely. A dam has burst inside me, and I’m no longer able to hold back the flood of emotions I feel for him.

“I’ll… see you tomorrow,” he says, shyly, when we’re finally able to pry ourselves off each other.

“R-Right,” I say, cheeks hot. “Tomorrow.”

Rosetta, Seraphina’s newborn, coos in my arms, and squirms.

“I’m going to drop her,” I whine. “She keeps moving.”

“Yes,” Seraphina sighs, as she runs around her stationary shop tidying up. “Just hold her head.”

“You can hold her, and I can tidy up,” I suggest, giving her a pitiful smile.

“You don’t do that often, do you?” She smiles warmly, taking the baby with a warm smile.

“Well, no one else I know has one.”

I straighten journals on the shelf, pulling them just to the edge so they all sit evenly.

“These are beautiful, but are definitely not worth so much gold,” I comment.

“They’re enchanted,” she beams. “They’re bigger on the inside. Large enough for a mystic wanting to document a long life of adventures.”

“Oh? How many pages?”

“Depends on how long you want it to be. Some are almost endless.”

“How much is it?”

“For you, two gold coins,” she winks.

“I’ll take one,” I say, pulling one off the shelf, placing it in my bag, and taking two gold pieces out to place on the counter. “Thank you. This will save space in my bag.”

“I can throw in a privacy enchantment, if you want one.”

“Oh! How much for that?”

Seraphina walks over to the counter, and places a small piece of paper on the counter. She reaches for a quill and begins to write on it several symbols I recognize from my lessons.

“We don’t have these available in the shop,” she comments, giving me a wink, and reaching out a hand to me. “Give me your journals. I can transfer the words on the pages to the new one.”

“You can’t,” I laugh. “There’s no way.”

“I specialized in Enchantments. I was the best in my class.”

“Then why don’t you work in an enchantment shop?”

“There are too many cheap enchantments to keep simple minds entertained.”

I reach into my bag and pull out my new and old journals. Seraphina puts on a pair of glasses with a loupe, and many colored lenses.

“Should I be concerned?” I laugh. “Will you be destroying my journal if you do that wrong?”

“Don’t worry, it’s safe. It’s just very precise. I want to optimize the enchantment. Only the best for the best, my friend.”

“You’re too kind,” I say, watching her nimble fingers pull invisible strings I cannot see.

“Do me a favor, and hold Rosetta for me,” she says, putting the child in my arms.

“Your mother seems to trust me with you,” I coo. “She’s lost her senses.”

Rosetta looks up at me with her big hazel eyes, and lets out a high pitched laugh that I swear could crack glass.

“Lunie,” Seraphina cackles. “I’m working.”

“Sorry,” I say, walking away from her, and rocking the child in my arms. “Let’s see. What part of the shop hasn’t your mother organized? Everything is immaculate. Even the floors are dust free. What about…”

I reach up on my toes to the highest shelf, running my fingers over it. My finger returns clean.

“Wow, she even dusted,” I say, excitedly.

Rosetta’s large eyes stare around wildly as she takes in everything around her, and she laughs again.

“Oh, look at you,” I say, pinching her cheeks lightly. “You’re so cute when you’re not screaming at the top of your lungs.”

“I’m finished!” Seraphina calls out.

I return Rosetta to Seraphina, who begins to tickle the small child until she’s laughing.

“This looks exactly like my old journal,” I say, taking it off the table.

“Yes, I merged them. I know it holds sentimental value to you.”

“Thank you, truly,”

“So, you’re never here unless something serious is going on. Did Lucien take Cyrus back?”

“No, but…” I blush.

“You kissed him!” She cries out, excitedly. “You finally kissed him!”

“Finally?”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Oh, Luna, the tension between the two of you is palpable enough to cut with a knife.”

“Is it?” I hide my face behind my journal. “That’s humiliating. Does that mean Arthur knows?”

“It’s strictly an Earth-Mender’s intuition, though Fox has his suspicions.”

“It’s not a suspicion at this point.”

“He’s always been smart, but not that smart. You taught him well, though. He picks up on subtle hints these days.”

“I can’t take all the credit. Elizabeth brought out some of his best qualities. I couldn’t do that for him,” I pout.

“Sorry, I forget that you still…”

I shake my head, and busy myself with a nearby shelf. “I’m fine.”

“So…” she says, with a sing-song voice. “Do you want to talk about Lucien?”

“If you’re not too busy.”

Seraphina shuts the curtains, locks the front door, and turns the shop sign to ‘Closed’. “Not for you, my love.”

“Why are we hiding here?” I whisper to Lucien, after he’s pulled me into a storage closet.

“I’m testing out a theory,” he whispers, staring out the small glass window of the door.

“Which theory?”

“You know we’ve put an enchantment on the room,” he says, pointing towards a small piece of paper adhered to the wall above the door inside the closet. “I’m checking to see if Arthur will be able to hear anything. I was using a similar one at the Academy in the temple for when the thunderstorms were especially… loud.”

“Are you using it to hide from Arthur?”

“I’ve noticed this strange thing that happens when I’m in a deep emotional state.”

I give him a confused look.

“I lose my senses.”

“Like… your hearing?” I laugh.

“Yes. Everything just… dissolves away, as if it doesn’t even exist.”

“That’s normal, I think.”

“Is it? Is that what you experience?”

I blush and turn away from him. “Yes. Are we hiding from Arthur?”

“No.”

“Then why are we hiding in this closet?”

“Lune…” he says, quietly.

“Oh, no!” I grumble. “We’re not talking about it.”

“Come on,” he says, irritably.

“No. We’re not talking about it, because it won’t happen again,” I press my lips together, trying to appear stern.

“Oh, no!” He cries, dramatically throwing his head back, putting a hand to his forehead, and stumbling towards me. “What ever shall I do without the sweet kisses of my maiden?”

I catch him in my arms, and give him a pat on the back whilst giggling.

“What in Gaia’s name are you going on about?” I ask him, when he’s recovered from his theatrics, and looks up at me.

“I’m afraid I’m sick,” he grins.

“You’re sick? Then get away from me.”

I try to push him away, but he only pulls me in closer, and holds me tightly.

“Lucien Moonshadow, what are you up to?”

“Why are you assuming I’m up to something?”

“Because you’re a sneaky little dark elf.”

“I am?” He smirks.

“You are.” I’m almost unable to speak, my heart is racing.

“I’m sick with longing for you, Luna,” he says, pushing me to the far end of the storage closet.

“Luuu- Lucien…”

“Yes?” He asks, staring at my lips.

I swallow hard.

“Oh, just hurry up and kiss me already,” I groan.

“Lou, have you seen the other Lou?” Asks Arthur when I step out of the storage closet.

“Uh… have you checked upstairs in his room?” I ask, straighten out my apron.

“No…” he eyes me suspiciously. “How do you not know where he is?”

“Well, he was out here a moment ago, and if he’s not here, how would I know where he is? I was looking for something in the closet.”

“Right… Lucien!” He calls, pulling the cord for the ladder leading up to the attic.

I peep through the closet window, noticing the remains of a curling mist of black smoke where Lucien stood moments ago.

I sit on the work table, and watch Lucien glide across the floor as he sweeps.

“I told you that the herb went bad. Why didn’t you listen to me?” I scold him, with an air of pride.

“You were right for the first time in eleven years,” he laughs. “I can’t believe it. Gaia works miracles every day.”

“Hey,” I reach out, and tug at his braid lightly, causing him to lose his balance.

“How dare you. Is this why you wanted me to grow my hair long?” He asks, turning to face me, and snatching the end of his braid out of my hand. “So you can harass me at work? I’ll tell Madam Lyra.”

“I got you something.”

I hop off the table, over the pile of dirt he’s swept, and dig through my bag.

“Arthur told me it was a special birthday for you dark elves. How old are you? A hundred? Two hundred? A century?”

“I’m thirty-three.”

“Wow, you’re so ancient and wise,” I cheer.

“Shut up, and give me my present.”

“Pushy,” I say, placing an object into his hand, and closing his hand over it.

“Thanks for not wrapping it. Now I feel really special.”

“Pretend your fingers are the wrapping. They’re colorful enough. Blue is not my favorite color, but it’ll have to do.”

“Wait, I think some of the wrapping has come loose,” he says, holding out his middle finger at me.

“You ass,” I mutter. “Just look at it already, before we start fighting.”

He opens his hand, and looks disappointed.

“This is much too expensive, Luna. I cannot take this.”

“Relax, I got a nice discount. My sister made this piece. I designed it just for you, so you cannot refuse it, or you’ll insult the both of us.”

“Luna, I can’t.”

“I’m very serious,” I say, taking the jewel out of his hand, and fastening it to one of his ears. “You can pick where you prefer to wear it later, but you’re taking it.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I want to be a part of your collection before you forget about me,” I say, taking the broom from his hand, and finishing up the sweeping. “Especially since you’re returning to Dark Grove soon, and leaving me behind. Now, get some water, and a rag. We’re washing the counters today. They’re long overdu-”

Lucien slams into my back, and squeezes me tightly from behind.

“Thank you,” he whispers into my shoulder.

“Don’t you dare stain my tunic with those hands of yours before we have dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“I knew we couldn’t go out, so I asked Elizabeth to drop off some of your favorite dishes, a bottle of your favorite wine, and your favorite cookies. Are you going to fight about that?”

He shakes his head, and buries his face into the crook of my neck. “So, no one will see you?”

“No. Wash your hands.”

“So, it won’t matter if I stain your tunic?”

“Luce, I will kill you. This is the only clean one I have left.”

“You get one more gift.” I hand Lucien a wrapped package.

He gives me an irritated look.

“This is the last one, I swear.”

“Fine,” he says, pulling the string off the wrapped package. “‘Dark Elf Fairy Tales’? How exciting.”

I sit next to him, and take the book from his hands.

“‘Twinkle’s Sweet Enchantment’,” I read.

Lucien snickers. “Twinkle. What kind of name is Twinkle? He’s certainly not a dark elf.”

“Lucien, come on now. ‘In a hidden glen deep inside the enchanted forest, lived a dark elf named Twinkle.’”

“Oh, gods, Luna. Why are you doing this to me?”

“You have trouble sleeping, so I got you some bedtime stories. ‘Twinkle was known for her extraordinary talent-’”

“Oh, I see. Twinkle is a fair maiden.”

“I can return it, if you’d like,” I say, getting to my feet, and walking with it towards my bag.

“No, no!” He says, chasing after me, and snatching the book away. “No, it’s perfect when I need to have a good laugh.”

He takes the book, and opens it to a random page.

“Let’s see here. We have the amazing adventure of… ‘The Mischievous Dark Elf Luna.’”

“It does not say Luna!” I reach out, and try to take the book from his hands, but he holds it over his head.

“Calm down, and I’ll show you,” he pushes me away, and shows me the page.

I’m surprised to see my name is actually written in it.

“Fitting title, isn’t it?”

‘Luna’s Midnight Adventure’ is the name of the tale, and I smack Lucien’s arm. “It certainly is.”

“Thank you, Lune,” he takes my hand, and pulls me to his side.

“You’re welcome, Luce. I think that was the last of it. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I toss my apron in a basket of dirty rags, and take up my bag and cloak.

“Must you go?” He asks quietly, when I’ve got my hand on the doorknob.

“Lucien,” I say, with a lump in my throat. “You’d break my heart.”

He mutters, and buries his face in his hands.

“Sir Moonshadow,” I say, sternly, prying his hands off his face. “I do not want to be responsible for your terrible disposition. Especially on your birthday.”

Lucien pulls me into his lap, and holds me when I slip off backwards onto the table. He keeps a hand at my back, and traces circles at my hip.

“Then stay a bit longer, and read to me.”

I take up the book. He takes it from my hands, and sets it aside.

“Upstairs? So no one suspects someone is still in the shop.”

I tut. “I can see in the dark.”

“But we can’t sleep on the table.”

“Sleep?” I gasp. “What in Gaia’s name-”

He kisses me, and we fall suddenly on his bedroom floor with a loud thump.

“Sorry, I forgot we should be standing for that,” he groans, rubbing the back of his head.

I scramble to my feet, feeling an ache on my bottom.

“You’re lucky it’s your-” I pull him to his feet with a grunt. “Birthday.”

He presses a shy and gentle kiss on my lips, and I can feel his cheeks become warm against my skin.

“You know what the best gift would be?” He whispers against my lips.

“I swear, if you say something cringey-”

“I want you.”

A fire courses through my veins. I tug at the clasp of my cloak, suffocating in this sudden heat. I cover my face in my hands, and bury it into his chest.

“And you did it anyway. What makes you think-”

“I know you feel the same,” he presses his forehead against me.

He nips at my ear, and a quiet gasp escapes me.

“What are you doing?” I laugh nervously.

“Claiming you as my own, like a rabbit would.”

“Is that right? Then I get to pet your soft fur,” I run my fingers through his hair.

“One moment,” he says, leading me to his bed. “Sit. I’ll return shortly, then you can wash.”

He undoes his braids, setting all of his jewels on the nightstand.

“I swear,” I say, admiring him. “You must come from the direct line of Selene herself.”

“How did you guess that?” He says, crawling beneath his sheets, and lifting them for me to climb in next to him.

“You’re breathtaking.”

He laughs. “How is your nightgown?”

“It’s very soft, and luxurious.”

“You don’t have to wear it to bed, you know.”

“Lucien, this is very unlike you,” I huff, blushing.

“What do you mean?” He pulls me down into the spot next to him, and pulls the covers over me. “I swear not to let my hands wander much.”

“When did you get so bold?” I run a hand through his hair, and he smiles.

“When I was sure you were feeling the same way about me,” he says, wrapping a leg around me.

“And what feelings are those?”

“Love, possibly?”

“Love? I mean, yes… but I also love Seraphina, and Arthur, and I still-”

“It feels different. I feel like… Well, whenever you’re absent, there’s an ache, and I just want to find you, and just a glimpse of you is all I need to make me feel better.”

“You’re so unfair,” I say, playing with the fingers of his hands.

“Why?”

“Because you’re saying such nice things, but we can’t be together.”

“I’m sorry. Let me phrase it more properly. I find you incredibly annoying, and I hate you,” he laughs.

“I knew it. Dark elves are the worst.”

“We are.”

He settles down next to me, wraps an arm around my waist, and nuzzles into my chest. I run my hands through his hair, and he repositions my hand to the base of his neck. He sighs contentedly when I begin to lightly scratch it, eventually falling asleep in my arms.

In the morning I awake to the soft sound of his gentle breathing at my side. I give Selene a quiet prayer of thanks for making such joy possible in this horrid existence. Gently, I lift Lucien’s arm off me, and slip out of bed. I cast spell after spell on my clothing to wash and dry them.

“Good morning,” says Lucien, with a yawn. “Need help with that?”

“Please,” I plead. “I’ll look a mess. I left my bag downstairs. If you cover for me, I could slip back to my room at the Academy, and fix my hair.”

“Go, I’ll take care of the shop.”

He strips in front of me, and I look away with flushed cheeks.

“Lucien!” I hiss. “A warning.”

“Luna, I’m naked. Try not to let your eyes wander too far if you have any intentions of leaving. Not that I’d mind spending the morning being more intimate.”

“Lucien!” I gasp.

“Sorry, that slipped out. I’m still tired, not that the lovely sound of your racing heart can deter me.”

“I’m not sure I like this version of you.”

“You will,” he chuckles.

I return to the shop feeling refreshed, with a box of pastries in my arms, in case Madam Lyra gets angry with me for missing the morning rush of travelers that normally stop by on the weekends.

“My! My! Luna! Did you finally get a social life?” She asks, with a wide grin, reaching for the box. “This is the first time you’ve walked in late not looking a mess.”

“No pastries for you,” I grumble, walking past, keeping the box out of her reach.

I hear the sound of her stool sliding away from the counter, followed by the sound of her footsteps close behind me.

“I meant no offense, of course. Is that strawberry I smell?”

“Yes, it is. I got one for you. Some potato pastries for me, and peas and carrots for Lucien.”

Lucien looks up from his work, and reaches out for the box. I place a vegetable pie into his hand. He happily takes a bite, and sets it down on the table next to him.

“Madam Lyra, did you tell her?” He asks.

“Not yet,” she grumbles. “I was getting to it.”

“Madam Lyra will be gone for several months,” begins Lucien, when Madam Lyra doesn’t speak up. “She’s going to the Dark Grove to see Master Eaimer, and we’ll be running the shop for her.”

“A wedding?” I inquire.

“No!” She cries out. “I’m just going to study some of the rarer herbs in his garden.”

“A proposal, then?”

“Luna,” she scoffs, her cheeks red.

“They’re going to gush over plants, and brag about themselves,” he says, with a wink.

“You’re lucky I need you,” says Madam Lyra, taking a strawberry pastry out of the box, and returning to the front of the shop.

“We really are,” he whispers. “I don’t think any other employer would keep me in their shop.”

“… The jewels in Solari are always the most beautiful,” the woman at the counter informs us, her bangles jangling as she fans herself. “I simply couldn’t settle for the white gold or silver of the Grove. It’s much too plain, and doesn’t go with my complexion.”

“Well,” says Madam Lyra, with a forced smile. “You have excellent taste. Was there anything more I could get for you?”

“Well,” she sighs dramatically, making Madam Lyra’s shoulders slump. “I need a good invisibility charm to keep my jewels protected. Do you know where I might find one? Price is no issue.”

“Master Khen has a shop in town. He will gladly swin- sell a charm to protect your treasures. Just tell him Madam Treeleaf has sent you, and he’ll show you his more private collection.”

The woman looks excited, and Madam Lyra rushes to escort her out of the shop.

“Good day, Madam.”

“Where-”

“Just follow that road. It’s on the right. It’s a large shop, you won’t miss it.”

“Tell your friends about us!” I call after her.

Madam Lyra slaps my arm, with a huff, and walks back to the counter. I laugh as I rub my arm.

“I hope she comes back when you’re the only one here.”

“More business, more coin,” I sing, as I dust the upper shelves of the shop floor.

“I’ve created a monster. In any case, I must be going. I have to prepare for my trip. If you need anything at all, I will be across town at the cloak shop.”

“You should take Luna with you,” Lucien calls out. “She has a cloak practically made of scraps.”

“I’ll let you know if they’re any good. I have to make it to Dark Grove and back.”

“It’s as good a test as any,” I say with a smile. “If it can withstand Dark Grove, I heard it said it could withstand anything.”

“It’s true!” Lucien calls out.

“Why don’t the two of you go gossip in the back room together,” suggests Madam Lyra. “Since you’ve been dusting the same shelves since that woman left.”

“Right,” I say, with a wide grin. “I should get the taller shelves, though. I can’t have this place covered in dust. Should I pull some of the expired potions off the shelf?”

“They don’t expire,” Madam Lyra and Lucien say at the same time.

“I see.”

“Put them in a box here. I’ll have Lucien sort them out,” she commands.

“Right.”

“Have you heard of that group of rebels?” She asks, excitedly. “They’re calling themselves Selene’s Blessing.”

“No,” I say, taking down each potion, and rubbing it down with a damp rag as I read the dates on the bottom.

Certain potions become more powerful after some time. Others become weaker or poisonous. By default, however, Madam Lyra takes anything older than several months off the shelves for other uses. I take down a potion with black tar like liquid inside, and grimace.

“What in Sol’s name is this?” I ask, holding out the bottle for her to see. “It doesn’t even look like it can be removed from the bottle easily.”

Madam Lyra laughs. “Read the label.”

“I saw squid ink, but what is it for?”

“It is the best healing ingredient, very rare, and lasts forever on the shelves. It’s not used often, but it’s useful to keep on hand. It’s best ingested, and never to be placed on wounds.”

“It certainly looks sticky enough to hold a person together.”

Madam Treeleaf laughs. “I always recommend using gloves when handling it.”

“And a metal spoon?”

“A silver spoon, actually.”

I wipe the bottle down, and place it back on the shelf.

“Oooh, this is lovely,” I pick a glowing potion off the shelf. “It’s expired, though.”

“Oh, my Sol! Set that down. Give it to me,” she says, reaching up with a panic.

Lucien rushes to the front of the shop, and watches on curiously. Madam Lyra takes the potion, and cautiously places a hand on the cork.

“Lucien, my dear, cast a barrier spell around the bottle. I have to release some of the pressure.”

“Will it explode?” I ask, backing away.

“It might. Get the back door open, quickly now. How many months old is it?”

“Not sure? When was the last time you tidied up the upper shelves?”

“Oh, heavens!” She screams, rushing to the back door. “If you hear a cry, I’m perfectly fine. Luna!”

“I wasn’t worried!” I call out.

“Get over here!”

I sprint after her. When the cork is lifted off the bottle, a putrid smell is released. I gag, casting a spell to change the course of the wind. Several passersby rush away from us pinching their noses, and giving us dirty looks.

“Get a bucket of water, quickly now.”

I do as I’m told, and rush back inside to grab a bucket. When I return, the potion bottle is gone.

“Pour it over here,” she gestures towards a pile of freshly dug earth.

“You buried it?”

“It’s good for the soil. I just forgot about it.”

“It smells awful.”

“The soil doesn’t mind. You’ll see. In a few months we’ll have some fresh crimson berries the two of you can snack on.”

“Crimson berries?”

“They’re delightfully sweet,” comments Lucien. “Their juices will stain your lips. They’re used for cosmetics by the higher class. A new experiment?”

“That’s right, so don’t eat all of them,” she warns. “I have to head out now. I’ll return for lunch. What would you like?”

“Anything is fine,” I say.

“Agreed,” says Lucien.

“Luna, finish up and be thorough. Afterwards, you can help Lucien,” she commands.

“Of course, Madam Lyra.”

When Madam Lyra has left the shop, Lucien gives me a playful look.

“What?”

He pulls me to the back of the storage closet.

“You’re… making me nervous, what is it?”

“She’ll be gone for several months.”

“Yes. We’ll be busier than ever. We’ll have to learn how to manage the shop.”

“That’s fine. She has a list. We just have to note the inventory, and any major celebrations, and examinations at the Academy.”

“We’ll have to negotiate prices with the herb shop. I’m not very good at that.”

“You’ll be fine. You know what the best part of all this will be?” He asks, his eyes soften, and he bites his lip to keep from smiling.

“What’s that?” I ask, nervously.

“You can stay a few nights,” he grins.

“Oh?” I ask, placing my hands at his hips. “What if I don’t want to?”

He steps away from me, and clears his throat.

“Of course that’s always your choice, Luna,” he says more seriously.

“What if I want to stay every night?”

He turns away, and I can see his ears turn a deep shade of blue. “I won’t stop you.”

I wound up sleeping in the room above the shop every night while Madam Lyra is away. She did much more than Lucien and I could have ever imagined. Every night, I’d instantly collapse at Lucien’s side from exhaustion after a long day.

“Move over a bit,” I whine, pushing Lucien over to the opposite side of the bed. “You’re on my side.”

Lucien pulls me down, causing me to fall over his body.

“Both sides are mine,” he kisses me. “It’s my bed.”

He rolls over me, and begins to kiss me passionately. My lips, my neck, my shoulders. I should be used to it, but somehow, it still fills me with excitement.

“Lucien,” I blush. “What are you doing?”

“I want more, Luna. Is that alright with you?”

I nod shyly. His fingers trail down my thighs. He pushes the hem of my nightgown up, and slips his hands beneath it. He pauses, hesitant to go much further.

I giggle nervously, and move his hands. He’s paralyzed when I’ve guided them over otherwise forbidden parts of me.

“I don’t bite,” I whisper.

He’s like a child being permitted to explore unhindered, shyly at first, but soon lost in his own world.

“Can I…” I trail my fingers over his chest, and again, he’s frozen in place. “Or not?”

I pull my hands away quickly.

“N-no,” he mutters. “It’s fine. You can… I’m just… I’ve not done this in a while.”

“Haven’t you, though?”

“Lune, I…” he blushes. “It’s different with you.”

“Why?”

“You’re…” he hesitates. “You’re very precious to me. I need you to understand that.”

“And you’re extremely precious to me,” I giggle.

We touch each other hesitantly and curiously, breaking out into several fits of laughter in our discomfort, which strangely helps to ease our nerves.

I trail my finger down the glistening skin on his chest, and he inhales sharply.

“Are you hurt?”

“No, I…”

“Oh, gods,” I blush fiercely at his reaction.

“Sorry,” he moves away, shyly.

“I guess we’re both dams about to burst,” I laugh nervously.

My laugh startles him, then he joins me with the same bout of nervous laughter.

“I’m afraid I’m not sure I’m ready for any of that yet,” he admits, quietly.

“It’s alright,” I murmur, trying to catch my breath. “Some other time, then?”

“Definitely.”

“I should sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll sleep in it.”

“We could still t-touch each other. Maybe get familiar? It might help to ease our nerves for the… for… well, you know.”

“The sex?” He states, bluntly.

I nod shyly.

“Okay.”

“I’ve always wondered what you look like under those robes,” I smile, tracing my fingers along his forearms, as we lie down facing each other in the late hours of the night.

“And?”

“Much better than I could have ever imagined,” I snicker. “But I thought for sure you had some tattoos.”

“Tattoos? Really?”

“I mean, look at your forearms. They’re so strong, and firm, and… and…”

“And…?

“Being human is so unfair.”

He laughs, and trails a finger along my lower lip.

“I’ve always wanted to know what these tasted like.”

“What did you think they’d taste like?”

“Like honey cake,” he laughs.

“And what do they taste like?”

“Hmm…” His face softens, and he kisses me gently and deeply, and we’re lost in each other again, as he pulls me closer. “I think you taste like figs.”

“Do you like the taste of figs?”

“I love it. You make figs taste wonderful. And… Thank you for understanding.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“I saw the struggle.”

“If I looked like you, you’d understand.”

He chuckles, and pecks kisses along my collar bone.

“That’d be too strange.”

“But you know you’re good-looking, right?”

“I’m too busy looking at you to care about whatever I look like.”

“Gods, you’re so sweet, it hurts.”

“Like cookies?”

“Like pure sugar. So sweet, it’s almost painful.”