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Hope momentarily flourished within her. Someone could spot her and report it to Finnian. But nobody knew what she looked like, much less who she was. Finnian could pick up on her presence, but she wasn’t banking on it. As a lesser goddess, her presence wasn’t as pronounced as most deities.

She sighed and scanned the chalkboard above the counter.

Toad’s Toes Latte.

Bat Wing Mocha.

Cappuccino of Butterfly’s Tears.

She brought her fingers up to Wren, pinned neatly in her braid. You hear that, Wren? Butterfly’s tears. I wasn’t aware you could cry.

Each option sounded appalling, but Naia couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. While they didn’t particularly sound good, they were something new.

The person ahead of them stepped up to order.

Naia’s eyes skimmed along the braided twines of ivy, furling around the rafters of the ceiling and down the beams which supported the room. The greenery overtaking the café reminded her of her father—as if he were nearby somewhere, caressing this nature to appear with the graceful command of his hand. Like all the times he’d swiveled his wrist with a playful smile, blossoming a dahlia behind Naia’s ear.

A sharp pang coursed through her heart. She pursed her lips to hide her frown. The woman behind the register let out a belly laugh at whatever the gentleman in front of them said before he strolled away.

Ronin stepped up and greeted the woman with a flick of his chin. “Ms. Maeve.”

A look passed over her small features, thoroughly inspecting Ronin like a mother hen. It reminded Naia of the way she used to assess Finnian as a child after the days he trekked home from playing in the jungle—mud crusted around the ankles of his trousers, barefoot, and his dark hair streaked with glittering starlight from the water.

“Oh deary, you look plain awful,” Ms. Maeve said, her plush accent thick and elongated. “What in the gods’ names happened to you, boy?”

Ronin sighed as he fished his wallet from his back pocket. “Good to see you too, Ms. Maeve, but unfortunately, I don’t have a second to spare while you point out all the ways I look unhealthy today. I am in desperate need of caffeine.”

“I don’t have all day to point out how you have dark circles around your eyes and you look like you’ve lost five pounds.” She flitted her eyes to Naia, leaning over the eclectic register. “Do make sure he’s eating, would ya?”

Ronin’s thumb and index finger came up to the bridge of his nose. “I’ll take my usual,” he grumbled.

With a quick flick of her wrist, Ms. Maeve summoned a plastic cup onto the glossy countertop. It slid beneath what looked to be a faucet coming up from the surface.

Naia watched in fascination as the lever descended on its own and a frothy brown liquid poured from the faucet’s spout.

“What can I get for you, dear?” she asked Naia with a cheery smile.

Naia glanced between Ronin to the chalkboard above, rereading her options. It was all gibberish to her.

Naia looked at Ronin again for help. As she did so, a slice of something decadent sailed towards a couple in the far corner of the café. The nutty, rich smell of the chocolate-covered dessert was heavenly.

“Since you love sweet stuff, how about a Starry-Eyed Latte?” Ronin suggested, noticing her gawking. “And a slice of that cake to try?”

With a radiant smile, Naia’s enthusiasm overflowed, impossible to restrain. “That sounds wonderful.”

Ms. Maeve smiled at Naia’s giddy reaction and snapped her fingers. “Right away, deary. I’ll even throw in some extra caramel on the top for you, no charge.”

“I love coffee. This is truly amazing. Do you want to try a sip?” Naia could hear the pace of her words, as if her tongue and brain were in a race, but she couldn’t help it. The cake she’d eaten was moist and bitterly sweet with the crunch of hazelnuts. Sharp chocolate frosting and the creamy, buttery notes of the latte melded together was, by far, the best combination she’d ever tasted.

Obviously, after trying the latte, she couldn’t stop at one. By the time they walked out of Madam Maeve’s, she had downed three with another secure in her hand.

Ronin popped an amused smile over at her, eyes jumping from the frozen drink she offered, which was generously topped with caramel and freshly whipped cream, and then back up to her face. “White chocolate isn’t my favorite, but I’m glad you’ve had a coffee revelation.”

Naia continued sucking down more of the drink through her straw while taking in the evening. Warm splashes of the sunset seeped between the tall buildings of the city, saturating the cars parked along the curb with a persimmon’s glow.

Ronin strode beside her, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other holding a plastic cup full of a cold, black liquid. His lifeblood: a nitro cold brew.

As she continuously sipped her drink, she stole sidelong glances of him. His hair was pulled back in a half bun. Pieces swayed in his eyes as he walked. She noticed the lone freckle on the side of his neck, and a small, white, puffy line of skin right below it. It seemed to be a scar, and Naia could barely contain her curiosity. Biting down on her straw, she stuffed her interest back down her throat.