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His confidence in us is the secret ingredient that makes everything sweeter. I squeeze back, our connection as tangible as the magic that hums in the air around us.

“Then let’s show this city what true magic tastes like,” I declare, standing up with a flourish that almost—but not quite—knocks over my chair.

“Let’s,” he agrees, and together, we stand on the threshold of our shared dream, ready to leap into the unknown with nothing but our wits, our wills, and each other.

As I stack the last of the cups on the shelf, a gentle nudge against my leg draws my attention downward. Luna, with her pristine white fur catching the first light of dawn like a personal sunrise, winds between my ankles in a figure-eight of affection. Her sapphire eyes hold a wisdom that belies her feline form, and I can’t help but smile.

“Morning, Luna,” I greet her, scratching behind her ears in our customary fashion. Luna purrs, a sound as comforting as the tea still warm in our bellies. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Probably forget half the things on that checklist,” Draven chimes in from across the kitchen, his voice warm with humor.

“You’re not wrong,” I admit. “She’s got a better head on her shoulders than both of us combined.”

“Thankfully, one of us does,” Draven agrees, bending down to scoop Luna into his arms. She settles there as though she molds to fit against his chest, a familiar sight that never fails to tug at my heartstrings.

“Looks like someone’s ready for the big day,” I say, reaching out to let Luna bat playfully at my fingers.

“Ready and more than capable,” Draven affirms, planting a soft kiss on Luna’s head. “Isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely,” I say, interpreting Luna’s contented blink as agreement. “Look at her, the epitome of grace under pressure.”

“Unlike some of us,” Draven teases with a pointed look.

“Hey now,” I retort with mock indignation. “I’ll have you know my middle name is ‘Grace.’”

“Only when you’re not knocking over chairs,” he quips, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Details,” I sniff, rolling my eyes but unable to suppress my own grin. “Shall we?” I gesture toward the door, excitement spiraling within me like a summoned wind.

“Let’s not keep our customers waiting,” Draven replies, setting Luna down so she can lead the way.

We follow in her wake, stepping out into the brisk morning air that promises new beginnings. The streets are just starting to stir as we teleport from my small cottage where it all started to the heart of the capital, the early risers casting curious glances at theshop windows, anticipating the day’s treasures. Our steps echo in unison, a rhythmic dance of anticipation that carries us to the front of our very own tea shop.

“Here we are,” I breathe, a mix of awe and nerves knotting in my chest.

“Home away from home,” Draven concurs, fishing out the keys from his pocket. With a flourish that is all for show, he unlocks the doors and pushes them open.

The scent of tea leaves, rich and varied, waft out to greet us, a welcome as tangible as any embrace. Inside, the tables wait patiently, their surfaces gleaming with care, while the chairs stand at attention, ready for the stories they’ll soon cradle.

“Would you look at that,” I murmur, stepping inside and letting the reality of it all wash over me. The shop is like a dream given form, every detail a testament to our journey.

“Perfect,” Draven says simply, his hand finding mine.

We survey the fruits of our labor. Together, we crafted a haven not just for ourselves, but for a whole community yet to come.

“Couldn’t have done it without Luna’s supervision, though,” I add, glancing back at our furry sentinelwho has taken up a regal position by the windowsill, her watchful gaze surveying her kingdom.

“Or each other,” Draven reminds me, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

“Especially each other,” I agree, leaning into him. “Let’s brew some magic, shall we?”

“Let’s,” he echoes.

Side by side, we begin the enchanting symphony of our grand opening. The chime above the door tinkles its merry tune, and like a spell being broken, customers start to trickle in. They come in pairs, in groups, alone with books or with laughter spilling from their lips—each one seeking the sanctuary of our tea shop.

“Welcome,” I greet them, my voice carrying the bright note of opening day enthusiasm. “Find a cozy corner or a window seat. Today, the world is yours.”

Draven, ever the charming host beside me, offers up a menu that has clearly been practiced. “Might I recommend the morningtide blend? It’s a vibrant start to any adventurer’s day.”