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“Prince Louis hasn’t paid me yet,” I told her, then I hit my forehead with the heel of my palm. “Shit. I should’ve bargained for weekly pay rather than biweekly. I’ll re-negotiate the terms tonight. I won’t let him keep taking advantage of me.”

“My treat, Little Bob,” Bea said.

I perked up. “You’re rich?”

She shook her head, her smile staying. “Food and drinks aren’t expensive in the academy.”

We walked away from the building of the House of Mages.

“But are you sure you want to have tea with a servant boy?” I pointed out the class difference between us.

“A brave boy who saved me. Buying you a drink is the least I can do.”

I beamed. “Is this going to be the start of a beautiful friendship?”

“As long as you don’t hit on me,” Bea teased.

I spread my arms. “I’m not into chicks.”

“You’re gay, Little Bob?” she asked gleefully. “That’s awesome. I’ve always wanted a gay bff!”

“I’m not gay, not that I’m against it or something.”

“It’s fine, Little Bob!” She pressed a hand on mine. “You can trust me and come out of the closet. I’m your friend, or I will be.”

“There’s no fucking closet,” I said in a low, husky voice.

The sun was at ten o’clock in the sky, shining on a cluster of upscale shops curved around treelined streets. They stretched over two and a half blocks between the House of Mages, Infinite Library, and Mouline, the art and performance center.

Bea and I merged into the flow of students, becoming one of the hundred faces in the campus business district.

“Hey,” I suddenly thought of something, “you think you can help me change my looks with some spells or potions?”

“I know a few spells for disguises. What do you want to change?”

“I don’t want to have these golden curls like snails parked on my head. No one takes me seriously, you know? Do you think you can get me straight dark hair, so I’ll have a sophisticated look?”

“Then it won’t be you, Little Bob,” she said. “Your golden curls are perfect, just like your long golden eyelashes! Girls would kill to have them.”

I frowned at her suspiciously. She laughed and led me by the hand into Snowflake café.

Just like its name, magical snowflakes drifted from the ceiling, falling on our heads before vanishing. White sand covered the floor, and it didn’t stick to my shoes.

Two witches, one older and the other younger, stood behind a glass counter that displayed an array of cakes, cookies, and donuts. They smelled fresh, but I could tell which cakes had spells added. It’d be dangerous for humans and less powerful supernaturals to try them.

I peered at the holographic menu on the board framed on the wall, bouncing on my feet and grinning like a Cheshire cat. I was proud to finally join the ranks of paying customers; that was, if Bea was going to pay for us.

“Hi Sabine, Toby,” Bea greeted the witches with a wave of her hand. They smiled at her before fixing their eyes on me again.

The two witches had homed in on me the moment I’d stepped in, their eyes widening and sharpening as if they’d seen something they shouldn’t have.

I jerked a thumb toward Bea and offered, “I’m with her.”

Bea nodded. “Little Bob is my new friend,” she explained and walked me upstairs.

On the second floor, the ceiling was lower, adorned with witch-light crystals like white stars. Bea ambled toward a table in the north corner, but I pointed at the most desirable table in the spacious front center that faced the tall window.

“Let’s sit over there,” I suggested.