Light from the candles continued to dwindle as the wax dripped lower and lower into the night. I stifled a yawn before immediately surrendering to another one seconds later.

  Juno looked up from her papers and reached across the table to pinch the side of my left cheek.

  “Your little bunny yawns are so cute,” she said as I lost any fight to appear embarrassed and yawned a third time.

  I scoffed and waited for my companion to remove her hand from the side of my fuzzy face. When she finally did, my cheek immediately felt colder, and I resisted the urge to say, “No, put that back.”

  Drowsiness washed over me as I stretched, my spine popping against the back of the chair I’d flopped into hours ago.

  The rest of the Messenger Guild headquarters was quiet, the last workers having gone home for the evening. A ticking grandfather clock in the corner gonged loudly at 1 a.m., jerking me wide awake.

  Juno had a large leatherbound book of shipments open in front of her. Her eyes scanned line after line, hoping for inspiration to strike. To her left, a stack of shipment records she’d already gone through towered high above us, and it threatened to tip over at any minute.

  Two of five candles continued to cast pale light over the desks we’d pushed together to form a makeshift table.

  The guild had loaned us this office to work out of while we continued to handle the special contract from Governess Lynn. I hadn’t seen the final numbers, but the promised payment upon finding this missing princess and delivering the letter to her was significant. And as a master with an apprentice under her, Juno stood to pocket a healthy finder's fee.

  Curtains rustled in an evening breeze from an open window we hadn’t been able to shut. It was too old or rusted to bend even to the whims of a goddess.

  Pages of shipping manifests rustled as Juno smoothed them down once again and fought a shiver.

  I stood and walked over to a hook on the wall where a few spare Letter Carriers Guild cloaks hung. They were soft and dyed navy with the guild’s emblem stitched into the back.

  Stepping behind Juno, I draped the cloak around her as she yawned and rubbed her eyes.

  “Got ya,” I snickered.

  “Hmmm?” she asked, wrapping the cloak tighter around herself.

  “That’s what you get for making fun of my yawn,” I said, gently poking her cheek. “Now you’ve got the adorable yawns to deal with.”

  Leaving before Juno could retort (and she absolutely would have retorted), I wandered out of the office and into the mailroom. Tucked into a back corner, a small makeshift cooking area waited for me.

  It wasn’t much, just a few small tables and chairs, some cabinets and counter space, a sink full of dishes, and a large steel slab covered in scratches and chips from wear.

  The center of the slab was marked with three carved circles, each different sizes. The one on the left was the size of my paw. The middle circle was about as wide as two of my paws. And the largest circle was as wide as a basketball.

  Worn sigils filled every circle, and I could feel the remains of a tired but reliable enchantment woven into each of them as I hovered my palm over the steel.

  Rummaging through the cabinets, I found an iron kettle and filled it with water. As I flipped the lid closed and set it in the smallest circle on the steel slab, I started checking nearby drawers.

  The last drawer I opened had what I was looking for.

  Ain’t that how it always goes? I thought, grabbing a wrapped package of sliced cheeses. The checkered paper was down to one slice, and I left a note on the counter for whoever came in during daylight hours to buy some more.

  Then, I set the piece of cheese on the steel slab not far from the enchanted circles.

  “Um, hello? Sorry. I know it’s late. But could you help me?” I spoke to the cooking surface. It was only the third time I’d done this.

  A light scratching noise sounded from inside the slab, and then a tiny mouse of yellow and orange flame climbed out of the largest enchanted circle.

  It squeaked a few times and scittered over to examine my offering. Sniffing the slice of white cheese a few times, the fire mouse seemed satisfied and looked up at me, waiting for instructions.

  Pointing over at the kettle, I asked, “Will you please bring that water to boil so I can make tea?”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The mouse’s tail twitched a couple of times as it sneezed, and a few sparks raced across the steel. With a shake of its entire body, the red-eyed mouse grabbed the slice of cheese and dragged it over to the kettle, vanishing underneath.

  After a few seconds, the enchanted circle lit with life, a concentrated cooking fire spreading across the bottom of the kettle.

  Three minutes later, I heard bubbles building in the kettle as I dug through the unsurprisingly poor tea selection in the last cabinet. My choices were apparently vanilla or ginger, so I went with the former, pulling out small silk bags of tea leaves and placing them in the only two clean cups left. One was a tiny tankard, clearly more suited for ale than tea. And the other was a wine glass with a long stem.

  Those will have to do, I thought as the kettle rattled with steam pouring from its spout.

  “And there we go,” I said, pulling the kettle from the circle and watching the flame immediately vanish. “Thank you, stove mouse.”

  I wasn’t sure who enchanted the slab to work this way, but it was easier to feed a stove small bits of cheese rather than firewood.

  Just before I turned away, a tiny flaming paw waved at me from the smallest cooking circle and sank back into the stove.

  I waited for the tea to steep and thought back to a book I’d read on Earth where the world’s most powerful mage and a queen’s bodyguard left everything behind to open their own tea shop.

  “I still need to find a bookstore and see if I can track down Her Eyes, The Mirror of The Skies so I can finish it,” I mumbled to myself. “It really was rude of Gyn to snatch the book back when I tried to sneak it out of the governess’ tea room.”

  Preparing the teas with sugar and cream as I’d learned Juno preferred, I carried the makeshift cups back into the office where she was yawning yet again.

  I set her tea down, and she eyed the tankard with a confused smile.

  “It’s tea,” I said. “These were the only clean cups.”

  My companion snorted.

  “Whatever works,” she said.

  I sat down next to her and dared to scoot our chairs closer until they were touching. She raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  “Bold move for a Bunny Goddess,” she said.

  I stuck out my tongue.

  “If goddesses won’t be bold, who will?” I said.

  Three weeks ago, when I first met Juno, I wouldn’t have dared to speak to her like that. But ever since we went to Luck Island, things had shifted a bit for us. And I felt like the two of us were approaching a line we wouldn’t be able to uncross if we stepped over it.

  Funny thing about it all, I wasn’t exactly sure I’d want to uncross the line if we ran right over it and kept on going toward. . . toward whatever it was we were building.

  Juno’s hands kept finding their way into my soft fur from my ears to my tail, and I kept finding myself unwittingly scooting closer and closer to the messenger.

  All the signs we’d been giving each other screamed “just kiss me already, dammit!” but neither of us had been brave enough to take things quite that far.

  But I was thinking about it, wondering what it’d feel like for Juno’s lips to press against mine and stay there for a while.

  “How goes the search?” I asked, knowing the answer would be the same as when I asked a few hours ago.

  Juno closed the leatherbound volume in frustration and reached for another.

  “I haven’t seen any more familiar aliases pop up in shipments from the princess’ homeland. And if I stare at ink on paper for much longer, I’m afraid I’ll claw my eyes out.”

  It was a clever idea to scan older guild shipping ledgers and see if any of Princess Amaz’s aliases appeared, but so far, none had. We’d checked every boarding house in Kylson and come up with nothing, so this was our next step.

  But she’d been a rather clever 16-year-old and clearly knew how to stay hidden from ex-assassins and letter carriers alike.

  Juno took a cautious sip of her tea and smacked her lips as a small smile crept onto her face.

  “That’s really good, Tilda,” she said. “Nice and warm. Just what I needed. I’ve nearly lost the feeling in my fingers.”

  Taking her hands into my paws, I rubbed our fingers gently together.

  Quiet fell over the office again as I continued to warm Juno’s fingers. Our eyes met, and her gaze was so curious. What was Juno asking herself right now? Did she want to kiss me? Was she calculating the odds that I wanted to be kissed?

  I do! I thought. I just don’t know how to tell you that.

  “Sorry to have kept us out late again,” Juno all but whispered, not looking away from me for a second.

  I shrugged.

  “No worries. You’ve got the hard job of scanning records. I’m just fetching cloaks and making tea. I can do that as easily at 1 a.m. as I can at 1 p.m.”

  Juno grinned.

  “Don’t forget hand warming,” she said. “That’s an important task. How ever would I scan the records with cold fingers?”

  Her infectious grin spread to my lips.

  “You’re a clever lady, Juno. I’m sure you’d figure something out.”

  My heart started to thud really hard after she said, “Maybe I’m just glad I don’t have to figure something else out.”

  All the blood rushed to my ears, and I felt my tongue twist itself into the shape of a pretzel. Taking slow, steady breaths, I said, “I’m glad for that, too.”

  Two candles became one as smoke danced above an extinguished light. But our eyes didn’t have an ounce of trouble finding each other in the dim office.

  When Juno’s hands were warmed, I realized I was still holding them. Neither of us moved. We were frozen in a nice, cozy moment. I wanted it to last as long as possible.

  If she isn’t going to lean forward, could I? I thought. That’d be too aggressive, wouldn’t it? I mean — I don’t even know if Juno likes girls. She had a husband. What if I’ve been misreading all her supposed signs?

  Before either of us could decide what to do, the last candle burned out, leaving us in complete darkness.

  Still, Juno kept her hands in mine. I didn’t budge.

  Maybe if we were stubborn enough, we could drag this moment out until it became a memory.