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Luna

W ith a quick explanation and a promise to fill Seraphina in upon my return, I left with Nora.

I’d do almost anything for Cliff House Inn.

It was my favorite place in the city—even if that was at odds with my relationship with its owner.

The inn didn’t feel like part of the city, with the forest covering most of the coastal property—where water met woods in a mighty display.

As we exited the busy tavern, I remembered why I loved it nearly as much.

Parkview Tavern was precisely in the center of the city.

If Sandrin was split into four quadrants, one for each of the fae courts, Central Circle was neutral ground.

It was hubris, of course, that the city districts were named after the fae courts.

In all likelihood, it was only because the courts represented cardinal directions as much as they did elements.

Norden was the northern district for the water fae, Suden southern for the earth, Vesten was western for the fire, and Osten was eastern for the wind.

The city was more human than fae, and humans lived throughout all four districts and Central Circle, but that wasn’t how the fae saw the continent.

Maybe it was a benefit of magic that they named everything.

I chuckled at my own joke as we walked in silence.

A bubbling river ran through the park, ending in a moat-like circle surrounding the tavern.

One had to cross a small footbridge to reach the tavern entrance.

After that, a slice of greenery stretched before succumbing to the city’s more traditional sights and sounds.

I wasn’t surprised to see a coach waiting beyond the park.

The city was large but walkable for those with a bit of time.

Darius seemed like the type with a tight schedule.

Why take an afternoon stroll when a coach or horse could get you there more efficiently?

Nora gestured to the open door.

“Shall we?”

It was too late to turn back now.

I clambered inside, and Nora slid in elegantly behind me.

Without a word, we began to move.

She glanced at me again, and her eyes widened as if only now noticing my strapless top.

“Shall I halt the carriage? Did you have another top you needed to grab? It can be quite chilly by the water.” She wasn’t actually worried about the temperature.

Her concern would be my appearance when I entered Pierce House.

I shook my head.

“This is all I have.”

“No matter.” She rummaged in a box under the seat.

“I have a few options.”

A few options?

My mouth hung open, and I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or be offended.

Had she come all this way expecting me not to have the proper attire?

I now respected this female in a way I hadn’t previously.

My father didn’t have the forethought to worry about my clothing choices.

Nora must have come up with this task all on her own.

I wondered how long she’d studied me before approaching.

She held up a new black dress with short sleeves.

So much for her excuse that it was chilly by the water.

Sandrin’s temperature never changed.

It was moderate year-round, so sweaters weren’t strictly necessary, even approaching the winter solstice.

I shook my head at the dress.

Undeterred, she pulled out another option: a mostly inoffensive crème-colored sweater.

I could easily wear it over my current outfit, which was likely easiest.

Glancing at the other items in her box, I decided not to continue the gamble.

“That’s fine,” I said, and she handed me the top.

I pulled it over my head, letting it cover my exposed shoulders.

Nora seemed satisfied with her work as she assessed my new look.

The carriage rumbled west toward the coastline, and the multi-story stone buildings of Central Circle gave way to smaller, more charming homes outside the window.

“Shouldn’t we head north? This is hardly the most direct path to Pierce House.”

Nora shook her head, something like pity in her gaze.

Pierce House was recognizable enough on the bay.

I knew where it was, but I’d never been invited there.

Maybe she knew I was no authority on direct routes.

I folded my arms over my chest.

Heading west wouldn’t get us there.

We were headed toward…

“We’re going to Cliff House Inn,” she said.

I schooled my features, masking the disappointment I didn’t fully understand.

Of course we were.

As a half-fae, I’d never been welcome in Pierce House.

The inn was where Darius had met me last time, too.

I wasn’t sure why I’d thought that would change now.

I gestured down to the sweater.

“Then why did I have to put this on?”

She smiled gently and shook her head while assessing the rest of my outfit.

At least the side-eye she gave the skirt was amusing.

Her lips pursed, likely concluding there was nothing to be done about it.

“It’s just good manners to wear appropriate attire to meetings.”

I exhaled a long breath, leaned back against the seat, and returned my gaze to the window.

The park stretched from Central Circle out to the coast.

The pockets of forest made places like Parkview Tavern or Cliff House Inn feel like the wilderness, yet the convenience of the city was only a short walk away.

Some wondered why the tavern was in the park at all.

I’d heard complaints that it ruined the serenity of the space.

Seraphina said it provided a different kind of peace.

If the fae considered themselves the unofficial city leaders, Parkview Tavern was one place fae of all courts, and no courts, like myself, were always welcome.

I’d wanted to be in the center of Sandrin society for longer than I could remember.

It might have had something to do with being half-fae and, up until recently, having to pretend I wasn’t.

The city had been through a lot of changes, but that was all in the past—or it was trying to be.

I guess it wasn’t in the past at Pierce House yet.

The coach rolled to a stop outside the inn and I stared up at it as I exited.

I decided something about it changed, knowing Darius was inside, but it was still picturesque.

A charming ten-bedroom building, white with dark brown accents that made it pop against the green of the surrounding forest.

The trees did nothing to disrupt the inn’s seaside view.

From the library porch, you could sit and listen to the waves crashing against the cliffs for hours.

The consistent roll of the water was the sound of home to me.

My cottage was barely visible through the thick trees, but I knew it was there—another small comfort.

Nora coughed politely.

“We should continue, Miss Luna.”

I nodded and followed.

Not much made me nervous.

I firmly believed things were meant to be, and whatever happened needed to happen to shape me into the person I was to become, but my heart beat faster as Nora led me through the front doors.

I’d like to think the city taught me how to deal with all manner of people, those who liked me and those who believed me not worth their time.

The one person I never learned how to deal with was my father.

Now, here he was, on my turf, sitting behind a large wooden desk in the manager’s office.

His dark brown hair matched mine in color, except for my blond streaks, as did his blue eyes.

My nostrils flared at the reminder.

“Miss Luna Pierce to see you,” Nora said unnecessarily before closing the office door behind her.

I felt ten years old again.

The first time I’d seen Darius, Mom and I lived just south of the city.

The village had been mostly human, since that’s what Mom was and what she’d claimed I was, too, for the first ten years of my life.

“It’s good to see you, Luna.” His voice was warm, like a blanket you wanted to wrap yourself in on a cold night.

All it did was put me on edge, since comfort had been the furthest thing from my experience with Darius.

When he’d come to see me as a child, it had been only to test my magic.

Upon realizing I had none, he’d left.

I could count the number of times I’d seen him after on one hand.

Half-fae were unpredictable like that.

Some had all the magic of the fae court.

Some had magic under specific circumstances.

Others were almost human in how ordinary they were.

I was the latter.

The only thing I was all but guaranteed to be granted from Darius’s fae lineage was the slowing of age.

“Hi, Darius.” I held up the only shield I could—his name.

I didn’t know him well enough to call him anything else.

He might have flinched as I said it but recovered too quickly for me to determine if it was real or imagined.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice. Please take a seat.” He gestured to the chair in front of the desk.

I glanced around the office as I sat, wondering if he really thought I had a choice.

“I do need to get back. The tavern is busy tonight. ”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat, sitting up straight and putting forth what I could only imagine was his business tone.

“Unfortunately, we have yet to see the same influx at Cliff House.” He gestured to the all-but-empty building outside the door.

I was sure Byrd, the manager, was out there somewhere.

“What is this about?” He’d been as direct as he was capable, mentioning Cliff House so quickly, but my heart kicked in anticipation—and not the good kind.

“Well”—he ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face—“Byrd resigned today.”

Good riddance.

Byrd had been the manager since before I’d taken residence on the property.

He always looked at me like I was filth on the bottom of his boot.

“With a hundred new people pouring into the city, not one came to Cliff House. That proved too much for him.”

I wasn’t exactly surprised, even though it sounded short-sighted.

Just because none of the first visitors came to Cliff House didn’t mean others wouldn’t.

Byrd had never seemed interested in driving guests to the inn.

He thought they should come because it was an old fae property.

I didn’t speak, wondering where Darius was going with this.

He cleared his throat again when I asked no follow-up questions.

Was he nervous?

I didn’t know Darius well enough to judge.

“The inn hasn’t had visitors in months, as you know.”

I was pretty sure it had been longer than months, but I wasn’t about to correct him.

This conversation was already not what I’d expected.

“I don’t have time to find a replacement. Nor does anyone want such short-term employment.”

“Short term?” I asked.

“Yes, well.” He hesitated again.

This time, I was sure it was nerves, but I didn’t know why.

“I’m selling the inn after solstice.”

Anger surged hot within me, and I stood, leaning forward and placing my hands on the desk.

“You can’t.” Mom had always told me I was terrible at hiding my emotions—another reason I made a terrible fae.

Mine were currently written all over my face, but I didn’t care.

This place was my home.

He couldn’t sell it.

I couldn’t believe he was even considering it.

Realizing too late that my outburst wouldn’t help with someone like him, I pulled back, retaking my seat.

His lip appeared to twitch.

“I wondered if you wanted to run it until Long Night.”

It felt like there was a low buzzing in my ears that must have blocked what he was saying.

I couldn’t have heard him correctly.

When I decided maybe I had, because those familiar blue eyes were staring almost earnestly at me, I was speechless for possibly the first time in my life.

“What?” It was the only word my mouth could form.

My fingers gripped the armrests on the chair as I leaned forward again, inwardly cursing my inability to hide my emotions.

“You want me to run Cliff House?”

He nodded.

“I know you have other responsibilities, but my other option is to close the inn now and put it up for sale.”

I was surprised that he knew I worked at the tavern.

Part of me had assumed tracking me down was another task delegated to Nora, not one he had any interest in.

The word yes was fully formed and ready to leap from my lips, but I needed to think about this rationally.

Learning from my last two overly animated displays of emotion, I considered the offer.

He was planning to sell the inn.

I didn’t want that.

A different plan formed in my mind.

“I have a better offer for you.”

He tilted his head but gestured for me to continue.

“I’ll run the inn, but I’ll do it my way between now and solstice.” I sat up straight and rolled my shoulders back.

Darius had no idea how many suggestions I’d given Byrd about the inn that had gone ignored.

Over the years, I’d put a lot of thought into how I’d run this place differently to grow the business.

That knowledge could be put to use.

“I want your word.” I gestured toward the empty inn outside the office door.

“If I can fill it by Long Night, you won’t sell it. I can keep running it.” I bit my lip.

Like he said, he could easily close and sell it now.

I wasn’t sure why he’d offered me until Long Night in the first place, but I wanted this place too much to press.

I’d never asked him for anything, and I had to say I didn’t care for this feeling—waiting for his decision.

He leaned forward almost immediately at my words.

Whether he was pleased by my response or eager to fold his arms atop the desk, I couldn’t be sure.

I held my breath.

My gaze fixed on the barely there lines by his eyes crinkling as if he were smiling.

He wasn’t.

“You sure you’re up for the challenge?” He tapped his fingers on the desk.

“You do know it’s been more than a few months since the inn has had a guest, right? I was being generous.” His gaze held mine like he was searching for something he wasn’t sure was there.

My metaphorical hackles rose at the condescension.

“I’m aware. I’m a little surprised you are.” Inwardly, I winced.

Insulting him wouldn’t help.

He huffed a laugh and stood, walking toward a bookshelf against the wall.

His finger ran across the wood, and he glanced at the captured dust on the pad.

“This place could benefit from a little—” He cut himself off, meeting my gaze.

But I had no doubt what he’d been about to say.

This place could benefit from a little magic.

No doubt his water magic could clean this place in minutes.

I shrank in my seat as he reminded me how much I didn’t fit in here—with him.

It didn’t matter.

Elbow grease could clean the same as magic, even if it took longer.

“Do we have a deal?” I pressed .

He turned and stuck out his hand for me to shake.

“Fine.” I stood to meet him, sliding my hand into his.

“You have until Long Night to change my mind.”