“Now that I don’t look so appalling,” says Fox. “Would-”

“And pathetic,” I say, fluttering my eyelashes.

“Right. Would-”

“Say it.”

He rolls his eyes, and looks over to Lucien for assistance. Lucien turns away and whistles a song as he scrapes dried leaves from a large cauldron that sat in the fire too long.

“He’s on my side,” I say, blocking his view.

“Fine, appalling and pathetic. Would you like to go to the pub with me? After you’re done here, of course.”

“I’d love to, as long as you don’t mind that I’ll smell of burnt leaves.”

“You could smell like a corpse flower, and I’d still want to see you tonight after what you did for me, Luna.

“Gods, now you’re making me feel guilty for making you call yourself pathetic.”

“You’re both making me feel ill,” comments Lucien.

“But I was pathetic for not asking for help,” he admits, sadly. “Thank you for helping me.”

“You’re most welcome,” I smile.

“So, can I see you tonight?”

“Yes. Which pub?”

“The Black Rose.”

When he leaves the shop, Lucien immediately drops what he’s doing, and stands at my side.

“I must say, I’m impressed,” he says, quietly. “What did you do for him to be so…”

“Honest?”

He nods. “Are the two of you really going at it?”

“Lucien!” I gasp, covering his mouth. “He was ill. I took care of him.”

“And?”

“I cleaned up his home, and-... washed his laundry.”

“Goodness, you just proved to him you’d make the perfect wife. It’s no wonder.”

I shudder. “It’s not… no. Don’t you ever say that again. I don’t want to think about being someone’s wife. I have other things to do with my life, places to see-”

“Stars to explore?”

“Exactly. I’m not just going to throw my life away.”

“What if such a life could exist with your future husband, Sir Fox Wells. What if, and I know this is a huge leap for that adventurous mind of yours, you’d be happy settling down?”

“Luna! Are you engaged already?” Cries Arthur, just outside the door.

“No, I’m not,” I roll my eyes.

“Oh, then do you want to be?” He asks, as he enters, wiping his boots on the small mat by the door.

“Is that some sort of threat? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“He has been,” says Seraphina, entering the shop after him.

Arthur puffs up his chest.

“I bet he’s not making it easy,” adds Lucien, getting back to his work with the cauldron.

Arthur is instantly deflated.

“It’s alright, he’ll learn,” she says.

Arthur slumps into a chair, and pouts. Lucien tosses him a rag when he begins to draw circles into a pile of spilled powder.

“So, Luna,” she grins. “I thought you’d like to come with me, and watch the traveling musicians in the south eastern part of the city. Entertainment district… not that form of entertainment, which I had to specify to a certain somebody, but you know what I mean.”

“I’d love to, but it’ll depend on when you’d want to go.”

“You made plans with Fox?”

I grin. “Yes. Tonight.”

“Tonight? But you’ll be working until late.”

“He said he wouldn’t mind how I looked.”

Seraphina turns to Lucien, and taps his shoulder. “Will you be alright with a different assistant tonight?”

“As long as he’ll behave.”

“What?” Cries Arthur. “I’m not working here. I’m not getting paid.”

Seraphina gives a look that seems to scare, shock, or amaze him.

“Fine,” he grumbles, looking away from us, his cheeks like tomatoes.

Lucien sighs heavily, and gets to his feet. “Go. Make yourself look… more rosy-cheeked and all that. Hell, you can fix up your hair while you’re at it. Madam Lyra has some of that hair lotion up front. I’ll pay for it myself. Arthur, grab a scraper, and tend to the other pots. The sooner these are cleaned, the sooner we’ll get through the day’s tasks.”

“Gods, you look…” Fox swallows hard.

“Nice?” I ask, blushing. “I hope?”

“Stunning. You look stunning. That color suits you so well, and your hair,” he gasps. “And your…”

His eyes trail over my body.

“Thank you. Would you like to dance?”

“Yes!” He says excitedly, then clears his throat. “I mean… yes, of course, Miss Luna.”

He holds out a hand to me, and leads me inside.

I tie my hair up, and fan my hot cheeks with my hands, the cool night hair chilling the sweat on my brow.

“I can’t believe you can dance for so long. I could hardly catch my breath,” I sigh.

“You’re clearly not dancing enough. We must practice more. I’ll see you here next week.”

I grin, and continue fanning my face. “For training?”

“Mostly dancing. I enjoyed doing that with you.”

“I did, too. Thank you for inviting me. I really must be going, though. It’s getting late and classes begin early.”

“I can walk you back to the Academy.”

“I’d like that very much.”

“And how did it go?” Asks Lucien, the moment I step into the back room of the shop.

“Lucien, I think I’m in love!” I gush.

“Do you, now?” He looks up from the cauldron he’s stirring. “It went well, I’m assuming.”

“You assume correctly.”

I tie up my apron, and read the task list for the day.

“How does one dip dragonfly wings… ‘in moonlight’?”

“Oh,” he says, taking the list from me, and reading through it. “I’ll take care of it if you don’t have time.”

“It’s fine, just tell me what it is.”

“Well, at midnight, we have to put some dragonflies next to some quartzes and… it’s complicated. I’ll take care of it.”

I shudder. “Dragonflies?”

“I know you hate bugs. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“I should help, though, or you’ll be up late.”

“It’s alright, Luna,” he smiles wearily.

“I could at least prepare the jars for you.”

“I’ve already done it, I’m afraid.”

“Lucien!” I scold. “Did you leave anything for me to do?”

He laughs. “The labels.”

“You hate me.”

He laughs again, as he pulls the enchantment off his cauldron. “I promise it’s quite the opposite.”

“You left me with labels!” I cry.

“You hate when I write the labels, so… you can make them all proper, neat and perfect.”

“Bless you. You’re Sol-sent.”

A smile twitches on his lips, then he returns his attention to his cauldron which he stirs one final time, before removing it from the heat.

“You’ve got hundreds of labels to make, so prepare yourself. It’s going to be a long day.”

I roll my wrists, take up a stack of paper, and begin writing.

“At least let me help you carry the jars!” I protest. “You couldn’t possibly carry all of those by yourself.”

“Go find something else to do besides worrying about me, won’t you?” He says, grunting as he picks up several crates filled with bottles and crystals, all of them rattling.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I can help you set everything up, at least.”

He sighs, then looks over at a net sitting on the table next to several blooms meant to attract dragonflies. I take them up the moment he moves towards them.

“Fine, but if you start screaming like last time, I’m sending you away,” he threatens.

“That’s fine.”

“Luna,” he says, seriously. “I mean it. My patience is running thin today.”

“Goodness, what in Gaia’s name happened?”

“We can talk about it when we’re outside the shop. Let’s go.”

Outside the city, we set out the jars, and insert a small quartz crystal in each one. Lucien spreads out the blooms, and catches any unlucky dragonfly that happens to perch on them. He gently plucks their wings, after muttering a quick blessing to Selene for each one he catches, and places the wings into the jars, discarding their bodies into another.

“That was the last one,” he laughs, sealing the final jar, and placing it where it can catch the moon’s light. “You can stop holding your breath now.”

“I don’t know how you can just just… touch them with your bare hands,” I shudder.

“They’re bigger, and juicer in the Grove.”

I gag, and he gives me an amused look.

“Lucien, please, I’m going to faint,” I say, dramatically falling over, putting the back of my hand to my forehead.

“Oh,” he groans, mussing my hair. “You’ll be fine.”

“What happened today? Did someone give you a hard time? Do I need to hunt someone down for you?”

“It’s not something you could do anything about, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Well,” I say, sitting up. “I have ears that might be good at listening.”

He lies back, shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s alright. Besides, you have small ears.”

“How are we ever going to become close friends if you won’t talk to me? Especially after you refused my company! I’m insulted.”

“Don’t be. I do the same to Arthur,” he says, peeking over at me through one eye.

“I’m doubly insulted, now!” I say, leaning over him, and resting my chin on his stomach.

“Gods, Luna, your chin is sharp!” He pokes my side, making me flinch.

“Luuuuucien,” I sing. “Come on. Who else will you talk to?”

“Nobody. I’ll keep it to myself, and suffer through it alone. It always works for me.”

I lie back, and stare up at the stars. “How long must they sit out?”

“Until midnight.”

I yawn. “Wake me when it’s time to collect the bottles.”

“I’m… possibly a bit saddened by Lumaria’s news. I thought for a moment I could be happy with someone,” he says, quietly and quickly.

“So, you do have feelings?”

“Luna! I’m trying to open up to you,” he groans.

“Sorry, sorry!” I sit up. “Keep talking to me, I’m all ears.”

“They’re such tiny ears,” he squints.

“We can’t all be special like you, Lucien. I’m only human.”

“I just built up this whole scenario in my head where we got married, fell deeply in love, and had a whole family… It’s ridiculous.”

“Gods, I’ve done that before. I’ve lived entire lives in my head with Marcellus… Fox… even Arthur-”

“Arthur?” He cries, in disbelief. “Really? Arthur?”

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“Yes.”

“We’re talking about the same Arthur? Sir Lynn? The one that wants fifteen children. That Arthur?” His voice cracks as he holds back his laughter.

“Yes, Lucien. I’m not proud of myself either, but that Arthur.”

“What in Selene’s name! Were you ill?” He laughs.

“Gods, Lucien. I’m not attracted to him. I just got lost in thought one day, thinking about what it would be like.”

“And?” He looks embarrassed for me.

“He was very sweet, actually.”

“Well… he can be from time to time. He’s just… you know,” he scrunches his face.

“Well, I am sorry that happened to you, though I thought it was what you wanted.”

“I suppose, but it’s as if…”

“You were pulled out of a good dream you thought was real?”

He nods, sadly. “I thought things would be fine, but I feel unsettled. As if I’m not meant for happiness.”

“Oh, Lucien,” I sigh, lightly slapping his shoulder. “The gods probably have even greater happiness planned for you.”

“What if they don’t?”

“I will find them, and destroy them after forcing them to give you eternal happiness, of course!” I cheer.

He laughs until his eyes are filled with tears.

“It’s not that funny.”

“Lu-” He’s laughing too much to speak, and breathes deeply until he calms himself. “You can’t even face dragonflies. How do you plan to face the gods?”

“I’ll find a way. I’ll probably need to take you with me, just in case there are bugs.”

“Could you imagine? The greatest Mystic in all the land, Lady Luna Masters! She’s fought the gods themselves, and gets taken out by a single dragonfly. Probably because she ran away and tripped.”

“There could be a lesson in there somewhere.”

“Fear of change?”

“That would be terrible. What about locusts?”

“That wouldn’t tie into the narrative at all.”

“I suppose not. I suppose I won’t be fighting the gods for you, then. I need a better tale.”

I settle down next to him, and we watch the night sky quietly.

“I…” he hesitates. “I feel better. Thank you for listening.”

“You’re most welcome. I’m sorry I couldn’t destroy the gods for you, though.”

“It’s alright, I’ll forgive you this time.”

He takes my hand in his with a warm smile.

“Did you see the dancers with Seraphina?” Asks Lucien, tapping the edges of a stack of papers on the table in order to straighten them out.

“They were amazing! One of them jumped so high, I thought she was flying. She also moved so gracefully, like a… a feather in the breeze. She was definitely a very skilled Wind-Caller.”

“Was she, now?” He asks, beginning to brush adhesive on a row of bottles. “I heard there was fire involved.”

“Oh, yes! They’d blow fire from their mouths like dragons, and juggle with lit torches. One of them told jokes while he performed. Seraphina and I laughed so hard we cried, and our stomachs were hurting.”

“Goodness, that does sound wonderful.”

He looks up at me with a smile, then hands me a stack of labels. I apply them to the bottles one at a time.

“Who wrote these?” I ask, noticing the unfamiliar neat handwriting.

“Seraphina did.”

“She’s got beautiful writing.”

“She does. Go on. What else did you see?”

“Well, there were so many different types of foods. Tarts, custards, meats. Everything was delicious. I wish you’d been able to come.”

“You were there with Fox, Arthur and Seraphina. I would have ruined the fun dynamic you had going.”

“Nonsense. I think it would have been wonderful. Oh! I did bring something back for you.”

“Lu-”

“I know. I know. But it’s small, I swear. Just some candied fruits I thought you might like.”

I hear the familiar tinkle of his earrings from his ears flicking. He quickly wipes his hands on his aprons, and holds them out to me.

“Yes, please,” he grins.

“Focus on what you’re doing. You can have them after lunch.”

“But it’s my gift. Couldn’t I eat it whenever I want?”

“It’s not your gift yet, though, is it?”

“What’s the matter with you? Did you not get enough sleep?” Asks Arthur, when I step into the shop.

“Arthur, be nice to Luna for once,” Lucien chides, wiping his hands on a rag as he steps into the front of the shop.

“Ugh, he’s right, though,” I mutter. “I got awful sleep.”

“Come, I’ve got the kettle on,” Lucien says, taking my cloak and pulling me along with him by the arm.

He pushes me into a seat, hangs my cloak up, and pulls an apron over my head. He tuts, and finds a ribbon which he uses to style my hair away from my face.

“Talk to me,” he says, placing some biscuits on a plate in front of me.

“It’s just Fox.”

Arthur rushes into the back room, and takes a seat at the table in front of me.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“I can hear everything from the front of the shop, anyway,” he says, defensively.

The shop door rings.

“I swear to the gods,” he grumbles as he gets to his feet. “They’re all against me!”

Lucien and I wait until we’re sure Arthur is too preoccupied to fully focus, then he places a cup of tea in front of me, takes a seat at the table, and leans in close to me.

“Are you alright?” He whispers.

“So you know how he and I…” I blush. “You know…”

“I know. Go on…” he says, gesturing towards me.

“Well, the subject of children came up, and…”

“And?”

“We fought-”

“You fought?” He asks, shocked.

“You fought?” Screams Arthur from his place at the front of the shop.

I groan, and eat another cookie, waiting for Arthur to refocus.

“So?” Whispers Lucien. “Are you going to talk to him? Is everything alright?”

“I don’t think we’re going to recover from that, but we could at least part amicably.”

Arthur barges into the room, making us both jump.

“Did he hurt you?” He asks.

“No,” I say, startled. “Is the patron gone?”

“Yes. She wanted directions to the bakery. But you’re separating?”

“We are.”

I give Lucien a confused look, and he shrugs slightly.

“You seem more concerned about this than I thought you would be,” I admit.

“Am I the only one that’s concerned about our small family?”

“I’m surprised you do,” mutters Lucien.

“What if you’re going against the natural order of things?” He asks, panicked.

“Then… I’d find my way back to him somehow? Isn’t that how these things go?”

He gives me an uneasy smile. “Well, I am sorry if things don’t work out. The two of you looked… Happy.”

“O-Oh,” I’m speechless. “Uh… sorry- uh- thank you?”

“That’s nice, Arthur,” Lucien smiles at him.

“Oh, shut up,” he grumbles. “I don’t appreciate how heartless the two of you think I am.”

He rushes back to the front of the shop when the bell rings.

“Did he… actually…?” I gape at Lucien.

“I think he cares for you.”

“I…” I start blubbering, and Lucien takes me into his arms and lets me cry into his shoulder.

“There, there,” he rubs my back to soothe me. “It’s alright. I know it hurts, but everything will be alright. You’ve got me, and apparently Arthur, and… Seraphina… and Madam Lyra. We all love you very much, and we’ll be here to take care of you.”

“I don’t want-” I sniffle. “I don’t… Do you think he’ll wish to remain friends?”

“I’m sure he’d love to,” says Lucien softly, kissing the top of my head. “Because you’re a very good friend, Luna.”

“Level three is awful!” I cheer, feeling the cold breeze on my hot cheeks as we lay on an open field far from the city.

“Level three is the worst!” Cheers Lucien, smacking his wineskin against mine, and taking a long drink. “Until we reach level four! That one will be even worse!”

I look over at him, and frown when I notice the leaves stuck in his hair.

“What?” He asks.

“I really need to help you with that,” I mumble, reaching over to his hair.

He slaps my hand lightly, and gives me a puzzled look.

“Your hair. It’s been a long time since I’ve helped you wash it,” I say, reaching over again, now determined to touch it just to see him frown.

“You don’t need to worry about it. I can care for it myself,” he says, pressing his lips together and furrowing his brows.

“That’s what you told me, but look at the state of it.”

“I’m an adult. I can care for myself.”

I reach over, and muss his hair. He smiles, and there’s a glint in his eye.

“Nooooo,” I scold him. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it!”

He sits up, and grins. He straddles me.

“Luuuciiiien! Stop it, you’re drunk!” I gasp, and reach up to poke his side, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

He grabs my hands, and pins them over my head. My cheeks burn hot. He musses my hair, and it puffs up like a cotton ball.

When he releases my hands, I push him over, and mount him, pinning his arms above his head in the same manner. He gasps quietly, and his eyes glisten. We struggle against each other until we’re both exhausted.

“How,” he pants. “Do you have so much energy?”

“It’s the wine,” I say, holding him down when he begins to struggle.

“Madam Lyra should let you drink in the shop. You’d be unstoppable. I bet you could do a whole day’s work in just a few hours.”

“Too bad I’ll have a massive headache the next day.”

“Well, we should be headed back,” he says, struggling against me. “Honestly, Luna, let me go.”

“No, you’re trapped there until I finish my wine.”

“Luna, don’t be ridiculous,” he grunts. “I have to meet up with someone in the morning. I could easily overpower you, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oooh?” I sing. “Who are you meeting? You’re not with Lumaria, so this must be someone new. Someone you haven’t told me about.”

I release his hands, and he hands a wineskin to me, rolling his eyes when I sip it exaggeratingly slowly. His hands slide to my hips, his touch like flames on my skin, and I nearly smack our foreheads together as I fall forward with a soft gasp.

“I… did what you told me. I met someone,” he mumbles, quietly, grunting as he helps me sit up again.

“I hope it’s not another human,” I cackle.

“No!” He blushes. “He’s an old friend from the Grove. I think I might… pursue him.”

I drink my wine slower, and he struggles beneath me, sending me toppling over.

“Lucien! My dress!” I yelp, dabbing at my tunic with my apron now covered in wine.

“You weren’t even drinking it,” he scoffs. “What other prying questions will you ask me?”

“Is he… a good kisser?” I ask, sitting up, so I can look at the expressions on his face while he speaks.

“I’ve never kissed him.”

“Is he… nicer than Arthur?”

“Aren’t most people?”

“Not really, but you’re right, that was a stupid question. Um… what’s his name? Is it lovely?”

“Cyrus.”

“Oh, that’s a very nice name. It rolls off the tongue quite nicely. Cyrus. Cyyyyrus. Cyruuuuus. Cyyy-”

“Stop saying his name, you’re ruining it.”

“Ruining it? How?”

“If you must know, you’re making it sound awkward. Like you’re pining for him.”

“That’s not- That’s not how I pine! That would sound more… Like begging. Like when Arthur needs you to take his place at the shop. ‘Oh, Lucien!’ Or ‘Lu-’”

Lucien presses a hand to my mouth to silence me.

“Please don’t say my name like that,” he scolds me. “You sound ridiculous.”

“Oh? You mean like this? Lucien!” I cry out, pleadingly. “Oh, Lucien! My heart calls out to you like Selene does to Sol!”

His cheeks darken to the deepest shade of blue I’ve ever seen on his face.

“Stop it,” he mumbles. “You’re behaving like Arthur. It’s annoying.”

“Excuse you, I’m better than Arthur.”

After an awkward pause, Lucien sighs.

“You’re…” he rolls his eyes. “Still better than Arthur. You’re right.”

“Yes!” I cheer, hugging him tightly until he pushes me off him. “I knew it. Can I meet him? When you’re both… together?”

“I suppose, since you’ll see him eventually. He’ll be attending the Academy.”

“Oooh, really? Can I meet him sooner, then? Do you know his schedule? I could pretend to run into him in the halls.”

He gives me a deadpan stare.

“S-Sorry. Uh… is he… younger than you?”

“Not by much.”

“Do you prefer them younger?”

“Do you prefer them older?” He grins.

“I’m asking the questions.”

“Then, so can I.”

“Ugh, Lucien! That’s not fair.”

“It is. This is starting to feel like an interrogation. Like an Arthur interrogation.”

“I prefer them older.”

He chokes back laughter. “I prefer to be with someone younger or my own age, which gets more difficult the longer I live.”

“Because you like humans?”

He gasps. “Luna! Have you no shame?”

“Sorry! I mean… You have a preference for them.”

“You’re not making that sound better,” he groans, highly offended due to the amount of alcohol he’s imbibed in.

“I mean… Uh- Gods! I’m glad you met Cyrus.”

He instantly rolls his eyes, and groans. “Don’t tell Arthur about this yet, okay?”

“Does Arthur… know all about… never mind. Whatever I know, I probably learned it from him. He’s such a… gossip,” I mumble.

“It takes two to gossip.”

“I just realized that when I said it aloud.”

“We really should get going.”

“I know, you’re right… but no matter how tired I get, I can never get enough of this,” I say, looking up at the twinkling stars.

“Me either.”

I glance over at him, catching him staring. He clears his throat, and turns his gaze to the sky.

“You’re pretty good company, too,” I nudge him.

He laughs, and nudges me back.

“You’re late,” I yawn. “Good thing, too. Arthur was looking for you. I told him you were busy studying for… I think I said Divination.”

“Thank you,” he says, with a bright smile.

I curl my lips in, and flare my nostrils, resisting the urge to pry.

“It… was wonderful. He’s wonderful. He’s so kind, and I think I’m falling in love!” His face lights up.

“So, it went well?” I grin widely.

“Yes! Incredibly well.”

“Can… I pry further?” I ask, cautiously.

He grins, and there’s a twinkle in his eye. “You may.”

Cyrus is perfect in every way, based on Lucien’s description of him. It’s endearing how excited he gets talking about their time together. He looks happier than I’ve ever seen him, and I struggle to remain focused on my work, when Lucien is just gliding around the shop so cheerfully, humming as my own heart's still aching from losing Fox. I’m almost jealous, wishing I could be that happy again.

“… we couldn’t wander too far from the Academy, but we did sneak away from his friends to speak more privately.”

“Is it official? Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask, putting down my work, giving up on it for the time being.

“Maybe. I’m not sure, but…” He pauses, his face turning a deep shade of blue.

“Sweet heavens! Did he kiss you already, Lucien?”

Lucien grins, and gives a small nod.

“Wow! He must really like you. You said elves move at glacial paces when it comes to relationships, but Cyrus… He must really like yoooooou,” I elbow him in the ribs playfully. “And you must really like him back.”

“We do… move slowly,” He says, rubbing his side where I’ve nudged him. “And I think he does. Like me, I mean.”

“So?” I take up a broom and begin sweeping.

Lucien continues to wipe down a row of bottles that were just filled.

“Do not label them, Lucien. I’ll be done shortly,” I warn.

“My writing is not that bad.”

“In your own language, it isn’t.” I stare at him threateningly until he puts down his pen. “In common, it’s awful.”

“Moving on… what do I do? Should I plan to meet up with him again? Do I have to wait several days? How does this work? Are we supposed to let it all develop naturally?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” I laugh, sweeping the debris out the back door. “I don’t know what I’m doing, either. It’s been made quite clear.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Fox still seems comfortable with you.”

“I know,” I finish up the sweeping, and take up my quill and a stack of small sheets of paper, and begin writing.

“But?”

“It’s a batch of Concentration, right?” I ask him.

“Yes. Luna, but?”

“But what? I know he’s still comfortable around me. It’s good. I’m glad. We’re friends.”

“But?”

“We’re not talking about it.”

He huffs. “We will.”

“Not yet.”

“Fine.”

I write labels until we’re finally out of bottles, and my hands are cramped. The remaining scraps of paper are placed back into the box filled with blank ones. Lucien begins brushing adhesive on the bottles, and places each label lop-sided to annoy me. I take up each one, and straighten them out before they dry, then finish off by flicking Lucien’s nose in annoyance.

“Ow! You waste time when you do that, you know,” he says, his expression serious just before he breaks out into a wide grin.

“You waste time when you also… do that,” I pout.

Lucien taps my nose, his finger sticky with adhesive.

“You got it on my face,” I whine.

“Where?”

He cups my cheek, and turns my head in every direction, pretending to search for the glue. I poke his side, making him cry out in pain.

“Gods, Lucien! It’s all over me now!” I wail, feeling the sticky substance drying out.

I pull out globs of adhesive from my hair at the wash basin. Lucien then tosses a wet rag at my face.

“Really? Are we playing games today?” I ask, grinning, as I threateningly roll up the rag.

“No,” he says, fearfully. “Absolutely not. I’ll stop.”

“But I have to get even, Lucien.”

“I’ll give you a silver coin for your hair troubles.”

“That’s not enough, Lucien,” I sing, approaching him.

He jumps out of his chair, and backs away from me. I dip my hand into the bucket of adhesive, and corner him.

“Luna, no! I’m sorry.”

When he’s sufficiently frightened, I ruffle his hair with my clean hand, and put a dot of adhesive on his nose. Lucien sighs with relief when it’s all over.

“You’ll pay for lunch today,” I tell him, as I clean my hands in the washtub. “And never do that again.”

Lucien cleans his hands, and picks all of the dried globs of adhesive from my hair. He then braids it, ties it up, and attaches one of his feathers to it.

“What would you like? A meat pie?” He asks.

“Yes, and…”

“Honey cake?”

“Especially some honey cake after the trouble you’ve put me through.”

“Very well.”

At the sound of the bell, I put down my honey cake, wipe my hands on my apron, and rush to the front of the shop.

A hooded figure stands by the door, holding their cloak tightly over their body so no part of them is visible.

“Welcome,” I greet, nervously, trying to catch a glimpse of their face. “What are you searching for?”

“Greater… Greater healing,” the man groans. “Please.”

“That’ll be fifteen silver.”

He tosses the coins at me, sending them to scatter over the counter and the floor as he catches himself on the edge of the counter. I catch the faintest glimpse of dark blue skin beneath his cloak. I gather the coins, and place them into the box as speedily as possible, then rush to the back of the shop where the more expensive potions are stored. There’s a thud before I’ve even found it. Lucien is on his feet immediately, and is standing over the figure when I return.

“What happened?” I ask Lucien.

“He’s… collapsed.”

Lucien pulls back the cloak, and I gasp when I see it’s a dark elf. There are dry wells of blood where his horns should be, and his ears are bleeding, having been rounded by a knife. His breath is ragged, and his skin is glistening with sweat.

Lucien grabs the potion from my trembling hands, removes the cork with his teeth, and pours the deep red colored liquid down the elf’s throat as he holds him up, forcing his mouth closed to make him swallow. He chokes on it, but I can see it already taking effect. His wounds seal, and his breath steadies.

When his eyes are finally opened, he pulls his cloak over himself once again, and limps out of the shop in a hurry. Lucien remains on the floor, his hands and apron covered in the elf’s black blood. His breathing begins to come in rasping gasps, getting louder and faster. I place a hand on his shoulder, as tears begin to slide down his cheeks.

“I want to…” Lucien slurs. “Kill the people that… did that.”

“So do I, Lucien, but that would be dangerous.”

I finish wiping down the counters, and pour another cup of water for Lucien who is already more drunk than I’ve ever seen him. Drinking seemed to be the only way I’d been able to get him to stop crying. Not the best solution, but it kept him quiet enough so that I could tend to the shop. The sight of his crying nearly ripped my heart out of my chest, and I couldn’t stand to watch him for another minute. I slip a drop of concentrated healing potion into his cup, for the hangover he’ll have in the morning.

“I bet we could take him,” he says, feeling overconfident.

“We could, after you’ve sobered up, so be sure to drink up your water.”

Lucien stares at his cups, and takes a long drink.

“Good,” I say, encouragingly. “Drink it all up.”

I sweep up the floor, while keeping a close eye on him. Each time he’s close to finishing his cup of water, I refill it when he’s distracted. After the third cup, he seems confused that he hasn’t reached the bottom yet.

“Is this an enchanted cup?” He asks.

“It is,” I lie. “It will keep refilling until you’ve sobered enough. Did you finish your food?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat. How else are you going to kill those… those…”

“Fucking bastards!” He screams, slamming his hands and the cup on the table, startling me.

“At least take a small bite out of the cake. You can’t let it go to waste.”

“You eat it,” he grumbles, sliding the plate across the table towards me, and turns away.

“I’m full.”

“I just can’t,” his voice cracks.

I rush to his side, hold him, and try to console him as my own heart is breaking from the sight of his sadness. He buries his face into my chest, his tears soaking through my tunic. He grips me tightly with each heaving sob, until they finally subside some moments later.

“There we go,” I coo, wiping his face up with a clean rag. “Do you think you can eat now? At least one bite? For me?”

He nods with a weary smile, and spends the rest of the evening picking at his plate of food while I tidy up the rest of the shop.

The shop lights are shut off, the front door is locked, and the key is hung up on a hook.

At the front counter, I pull out the small wooden box, and begin to count out the coins, setting the fifteen silver aside in hopes of returning them to the elf. I leave a note for Madam Treeleaf, just in case I’m not here if he does happen to return, but I doubt he’ll remain in the city after being injured to such a degree. Lucien walks up behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and nuzzles his nose into the nape of my neck.

“How are you?” I ask, returning to my counting.

“Thank you, Luna.”

“Did you eat everything on your plate?”

He nods, pressed against my back.

“Good. Have you sobered up enough to make it back to the Academy safely?”

Again he nods.

“I’m about done here, and then we can go.”

“Okay,” he whispers sadly.

He doesn’t stop holding me, determined to wait for me to finish counting the coins, and I’m ashamed to admit I purposely moved slowly.