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  We returned to the Governance Hall and entered a back hallway I’d not noticed earlier today. The building was silent except for the occasional guard patrolling. We’d been stopped twice already, and showed our Messenger Guild badges, expining that we had a te-night appointment with the governess.

  Wow, I thought. My first time showing the Letter Carriers Guild badge. It feels pretty cool.

  Part of me wondered if this is what Sam and Dean felt like producing their FBI badges to investigate crime scenes. Of course, mine wasn’t a w enforcement badge, and theirs wasn’t real, but semantics.

  This rear hallway was full of exposed brick and older nterns that provided plenty of pale, yellow light. The space had more of a blue-colr feel to it than what I’d expect from a mayor’s or governor’s office. Instead of tile, the floor was stone. It was ft and easy to walk over, but my rge fluffy feet seemed to find every loose pebble, causing me to flinch and occasionally growl.

  Juno giggled and pulled me forward toward a wood and gss door at the end of the hall.

  If we weren’t leaving Kylson so soon, I’d look into finding a cobbler, I thought. Surely one could make me some boots or sandals or something.

  Two women in leather armor held halberds that crossed over the door in front of us. One was taller and wore a shaved head with three golden rings piercing an eyebrow. The other was shorter but more heavily muscled and wore her long bck hair tied back into a low ponytail. Both had brown eyes and pale skin.

  They remained frozen as we approached.

  “Geez. These two give those English guards with the funny hats a run for their money,” I muttered.

  Juno stared at me with an eyebrow raised.

  “Do all guards wear strange hats in the world you came from?”

  Before I could expin the pace guards, my ears twitched. I heard the soft popping of knee joints and the brief ruffling of feathers behind me.

  These heightened senses did have their use… occasionally. I wasn’t a fan of walking by an outhouse, though. The better sniffer capabilities of my twitching bunny snoot had yet to earn any praise from me.

  I spun and scowled as a familiar shriekwing emerged from the shadows of the hallway. Her gold, white, and brown feathers were a bit more tame than the st time I’d seen the ex-assassin.

  “Fuck! I was trying really hard to get you by surprise this time,” Gyn said.

  As I watched them sheath a dagger, I asked, “To startle us, right?”

  She ignored my question and turned to Juno.

  “Well, well. Leave it to the Letter Carriers Guild to find messengers who show up right on time,” Gyn said.

  I watched as the bodyguard pulled back her wheat-colored hair into a tight bun. Her yellow eyes turned back to me, accompanying a grin made visible at the edges of her beak.

  “And it’s good to know that minor deities also have a good sense of schedule,” Gyn said, leaning against a wall and crossing her arms.

  I raised an eyebrow, but Juno scoffed.

  “Minor deities?” she asked with an annoyed tone.

  “Oh yes,” Gyn said. “I did my research after our meeting earlier. The major deities don’t literally walk among us, per se, but they do occasionally send demigods to act in their name.”

  That was certainly new information. Opha was cssified as a major deity, and I was more of a demigod or her representative in Fevara. Ironic that in all the letters she wrote to me, I never once received a Luck Bunny manual.

  “We just call minor deities ‘gods’ because it’s shorter. Lazy linguistics if you ask me.”

  Juno cocked her head to the side and pced her hands on her hips.

  “And just how did you come by this information? I didn’t take you for the devout faithful type,” my companion said.

  The shriekwing chuckled and walked between us.

  “A good spy never reveals her sources,” Gyn said. “Especially when accurate information is essential for protecting the governess.”

  “Wow. Ex-assassin, bodyguard, spy, researcher, you sure do wear a lot of hats, Gyn,” I said in as dry a tone as I could manage.

  The shriekwing stopped and turned to look at me.

  “Protecting the governess is an important job. I’d take on any task or assignment to contribute to her safety. That is how I show my love and dedication to duty,” the ex-assassin said with just a touch of dramatic pride.

  With such a piercing stare in her hardened yellow eyes, I knew not to question her loyalty or capabilities. The confidence, in which, Gyn carried herself and her weapons told me in no uncertain terms that she’d killed plenty of people, both before and after she’d been spared from public execution.

  Most folks don’t come into contact with killers, but a mailman? They meet all kinds of people. At the end of my daily route, down a dirt road that only had one trailer at the end, I met Daniel Bosch.

  I recognized him from the newspaper (which we also delivered to some folks). An article talked about how he was being paroled after 27 years in prison, something about getting into a fight over a girlfriend with his brother and killing him.

  Daniel liked to sit on his porch, and since he didn’t have a traditional mailbox at the end of his driveway, I had to walk it up to his house where a metal box with his street number was nailed to the wall by the front door.

  We never talked much, but I exchanged words with him now and again about how hot it was outside or whether the city was going to pave his street. I’ll always remember the heaviness, with which, he moved, despite how lean he was.

  And I don’t mean he dragged his feet across the porch. He seemed to carry the weight from his brother’s murder, as though that was the price Daniel paid for continuing to breathe in our polite society. His eyes lost a bit of their luster. The best way I could describe them is they took on a faded, steely gaze. Like — even though they were looking right at you, Daniel’s eyes were also looking into the past. . . perhaps also seeing his brother’s face.

  I don’t think I’ll ever forget the hollowness of that stare.

  Gyn’s eyes carried a simir look, even if she hid it behind a yer of debonair threats and mannerisms. The edge of her irises. . . they’d seen and spilled so much blood. Almost as if, on their way into the afterlife, the newly-made ghosts of her victims cwed at her eyes with wild swipes. And just enough of those violent streaks left an imprint on the windows of her soul.

  “Why are you looking at me like that, Luck Bunny?” Gyn asked. “Do I have something stuck in my beak?”

  I didn’t know if I noticed those eyes because I’d delivered the mail to so many strangers in my previous life or because Opha had given me the ability to see more than the average person in this new life. Either way, my chest tightened a bit. I swallowed nervously, realizing there’d be no point in trying to hide my apprehension.

  Whatever detail I could glean from staring at Gyn, she could almost certainly return the favor threefold.

  “Apologies, Gyn. Long day. I must have been zoning out in your general direction,” I said, spttering a quick smile on my lips. My whiskers twitched as she narrowed her eyes and nodded.

  The shriekwing motioned for us to follow her and gave orders to the guards to step aside. They heeded her command without hesitation.

  Gd to see I’m not the only one who realized fucking with Gyn was a bad idea, I thought.

  She led us upstairs into a warmer chamber with a rge stone firepce and two tall narrow windows that provided excellent views of the streets below. One window overlooked a closed bakery while the other let viewers spy down on a pub called The Sauced Otter. I giggled at the name before turning back toward our guide.

  “You two were told to arrive an hour before tea, and I commend you on your punctuality, especially since nighttime visits with my governess are rarely granted.”

  Did she just say “my” governess? I thought, trying to fight back a small scowl of confusion. Are bodyguards allowed to be this possessive of their charges, even in private?

  I was trying to imagine how absurd it’d be if a Secret Service agent referred to the commander-in-chief as “her president.”

  Maybe things are just different here in that regard, too, I thought. Gyn did say she shared a room with Governess Lynn and another bodyguard named Teena.

  However, that theory also had issues because the Secretary of Faith appeared bewildered by how freely Gyn discussed their living arrangement.

  The former assassin's words brought my attention back to the present.

  “You two will remain here until the governess is ready to be seated for tea. Feel free to take anything from the bookshelf to entertain yourselves in my absence. I would also advise against attempting to wander the halls. Teena and I have yet to locate the spy I was hunting for earlier, and we’re a bit more. . . jumpy than usual. One wrong step around a corner, and you could wind up with a bde in the lung or spleen,” Gyn said.

  Juno crossed her arms and leaned against an octagonal table in the center of the room.

  “Wouldn’t that speak more to your failure to differentiate between a guest and a spy?” she asked.

  Gyn answered this by pulling out a dagger and spinning it on her index finger without staring at the bde. It was the most dangerous fidget spinner I’d ever seen.

  “Oh, dear messenger, it’s not my job to differentiate between spies and guests. I merely have to protect the governess. And a perfectly-aimed, but mistaken stabbing is unlikely to put her in any more danger. So the best course of action for yourself as a highly-stabable civilian would be to stay out of dagger range. And this room is the farthest from dagger range you can be at this moment.”

  I joined my companion in questioning.

  “And what will you be doing while we wait for tea to be served?”

  The edges of Gyn’s beak turned upward in a grin.

  “Why. . . attending to the governess, of course,” she said before leaving Juno and me in a quiet room.

  Logs crackled in the firepce as I scanned the rest of the space.

  A rge portrait of the governess curtseying at what appeared to be a ball hung opposite of the mantle. We stood on a thick carpet the color of coffee after I dumped a shitload of creamer and sugar inside.

  One wall was decorated with a mounted nce that appeared to be used in jousting. It was painted silver. I wondered if “jouster” was another hat Gyn wore.

  Jouster? More like jester, I thought, rolling my eyes.

  A trio of bck square cushioned chairs were positioned in front of the firepce like an arrowhead. I sighed, scanned the bookshelf, and selected a title called Her Eyes, The Mirror of The Skies.

  Juno found a newspaper from today and sat in the center chair next to the firepce. She sighed, flipping between pages.

  I joined her and quickly found myself enraptured by a sapphic romance between a sculptor and a fisher.

  Damn, I thought. The governess has good taste.

  I’d reached chapter six by the time we heard footsteps approaching. Juno’s cheek had a red mark from where she’d propped her hand while reading an article on the governess’ most recent economic proposals to the Commoner’s Court.

  How long had it been? At least 45 minutes. I was about to ask Juno if other diplomats she’d delivered messages to kept her waiting this long when the door opened.

  Gyn swept in first, quickly scanning the room as Juno and I slowly stood (emphasis on slowly). I was bone tired. A comfy chair, a firepce, and a book had just about done me in for the night.

  I’ll have to hope tea in Fevara is extra caffeinated, I thought, rubbing my eyes.

  Once the first bodyguard gave the all-clear, the governess shuffled in behind her, dressed in a mauve blouse and brown trousers. Her long wavy blonde hair hung down over her bare shoulders, dipping just past her colrbone.

  The governess was all smiles and seemed in a supremely good mood for someone about to receive a confidential message.

  Her lips were painted rose-red, and her smile grew even wider as she spotted me by the firepce.

  “You weren’t kidding, Gyn! An honest-to-gods Bunny Goddess in my tea room!” Lynn said in a far more cheery voice than even I expected. She csped her hands together as she spoke.

  Juno and I exchanged gnces.

  The door closed, and it was only then I turned to stare at Teena, the bodyguard I hadn’t seen yet. And as my eyes swept over her, I immediately realized. . . there was very little to be seen.

  A disembodied green vest and gray wool pants seemed to hover beside the door. I could hear the ruffle of feathers but spotted no body under the clothes. Just a pair of brown boots, and a pid scarf, supposedly wrapped around an invisible neck.

  A silver rapier in a polished bck scabbard hung tightly on Teena’s left side. The bde’s pommel was encrusted with a small series of garnets, each catching the firelight from across the room.

  “Uh. . . hello?” I called.

  The voice Teena spoke with was a tad more gruff yet somehow less mocking than Gyn’s.

  “Wow, Gyn, not only were you right about the Luck Bunny’s description, but you were scarily accurate in detailing her stare,” Teena said.

  I could tell by the way her sleeves moved that she was crossing her arms.

  Before I could tear my eyes away from the disembodied voice, she spoke again.

  “Let me just save you some time, Luck Bunny. Stabbed a mage who was about to unleash a nasty curse on my governess, and in their anger, they threw a different curse upon me, rendering me unseeable. Joke’s on her, though, because invisible fingers can choke you just as well as a visible hand.”

  I wasn’t sure how to process that story. Part of me wanted to snicker. Another part of me wondered if that’d be insensitive and further pondered whether being invisible constituted a disability. What would you even call that? Being visibly challenged?

  We gathered around the tea table, and each of us took a seat. These seats were a bit less comfy than the chairs by the firepce but still sturdy. The governess obviously cared about lumbar support, an underappreciated concern if I ever heard one.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” the governess said, smoothing her blouse. “If it isn’t apparent by now, I am Governess Lynn, the current ruler of Kylson.”

  Juno spoke next.

  “I’m Juno Heelix, an official messenger of the Letter Carriers Guild. I’m here to deliver a sealed diplomatic dispatch from Prince Sedal Greenroot of Tuzania.”

  With a quick nod, Lynn stood up and walked over to the firepce.

  “I’m eager to hear what the prince has to say,” Lynn said.

  I watched as she grabbed a rge cast-iron kettle that’d been suspended over the firepce, wrapping the handle in a thick cloth.

  Teena rose and fetched a rge porcein pot decorated with paintings of tiny nterns all around it. Meanwhile, Gyn rose and returned to the table with five teacups, perfectly banced on saucers id across her arms.

  Showoff, I thought, trying and failing not to be impressed. I guess they taught tea bancing in the Assassin School of Assassiny Things.

  “Can I. . . help with something?” I bthered. “I hate feeling useless.”

  Juno swatted my arm.

  “You are not useless. We’re guests,” she said. “Stop with those thoughts.”

  Her stern gnce scared away any remaining mean thoughts that didn’t quite shake out of my skull earlier.

  “Nonsense,” Lynn said. “You’re the first goddess to visit Kylson in the flesh. What kind of ruler would I be if I didn’t serve you a hot cup of tea?”

  I felt my face warming to the same temperature as the water in the kettle.

  We chatted for a few minutes while tea steeped inside the pot. The smell of bckberry tea began to permeate the table, and I stifled a yawn.

  Eventually, Lynn poured us all tea, setting the pot down without filling her own cup. That was when Teena picked up the pot and filled Lynn’s cup. The governess smiled, watching the teapot seemingly float in the air.

  We all waited for the governess to take the first sip. I finally got to enjoy my tea after her, and holy shit, it was fvorful.

  Lynn scooted a silver tray with sugar and milk toward Juno and me. The messenger politely declined while I added a tiny spoonful of sugar and milk to my drink.

  “May I see my letter?” the governess asked.

  Juno traded the sealed envelope for a signature in her notebook from the receiving party, acknowledging the document’s safe delivery.

  From my side of the table, all I could see on the envelope was a complex red wax seal. Tiny runes appeared to be carved into the wax.

  “I’ve heard the Letter Carriers Guild magically seals its diplomatic dispatches so only the addressed individual can open the envelope. Is that true?”

  Juno nodded.

  “And what happens if someone other than me tries to open this?” the governess asked.

  My companion stared at the wax seal for a moment before answering.

  “The parchment would smoke as a warning. And if someone continued to tamper with it, the entire message would catch fire,” Juno said. “The guild takes all deliveries seriously, but especially diplomatic dispatches. They are treated with the highest care and sealed with a special wax developed by guild mages.”

  The governess flipped over the envelope a few times and looked at the document with wonder. Then, she handed it to Gyn.

  “I want to see the magic in action. Try to open it,” the governess said.

  My jaw dropped.

  That’s an important letter! I thought, biting my tongue.

  “As you wish, governess,” Gyn said, pulling out her smallest knife and attempting to break the wax seal.

  At once, the seal hissed like a cat, and smoke wafted from the paper in all directions. It wasn’t an illusion. I smelled the smoke from across the table.

  “Wow! It really does work,” Lynn said, reaching out to take the envelope from her bodyguard.

  When the document was safely back in her hands, it abruptly stopped smoking. The heat from the wax seal, which hadn’t melted or been chipped away by Gyn’s bde in the slightest, died down as well.

  “That’s impressive,” the governess said, fanning some of the remaining smoke away. “I might just have to send my next birthday invitations via diplomatic dispatches from the Messenger Guild.”

  Juno fshed the ruler a polite smile as if she’d be happy to accommodate such an order or rey it back to Vinold.

  With little fanfare, Lynn grabbed a knife from Gyn’s arsenal and easily broke the wax seal. She opened the envelope and pulled out a smaller sheet of cream-colored paper, reading it with a slight frown. It was the first time I hadn’t seen a smile on her lips since she entered the room.

  After she was finished, Lynn looked across the table at Juno and me.

  “Would you like to know what it says?” she asked.

  I shook my head after nearly choking on the st of my tea. Juno started to respond, “We’re not privileged to read such a sensitive —”

  But the governess interrupted her.

  “It’s not that long of a message. The prince was concise in his apology.”

  Juno and I exchanged gnces.

  Now the governess turned to face me directly.

  “Tell me something, Bunny Goddess. If you ran a city-state surrounded by four nations, two that were engaged in active warfare, one that wanted your city’s natural resources, and the final country that decred itself entirely neutral, what would you do?”

  My stomach sank. Even if I wasn’t exhausted, geopolitical strategy was way above my pay grade, goddess or not.

  And yet, just as I started stammering, the governess waved her hand at me.

  “Sorry, that’s way too little information. Let me be more specific. Two of the nations on my border are engaged in active warfare. One of them has a security pact with Kylson. But I’ve just been informed by its prince that they can’t fulfill protective obligations until their war draws to a close.”

  I tried to process those words, all the while my tongue felt fuzzy, and my ears dropped from stress, the hammering of my heart growing faster.

  “Another nation on Kylson’s border has sent demands that we supply it with whatever minerals it requires for further development. It continues to grow more aggressive each season. And the st nation seems to want nothing to do with us, decring itself entirely neutral in these regional matters. So, Luck Bunny, what would you do if you were tasked with defending a city with thousands of people inside?”

  The table grew silent. Even Juno seemed stunned at this turn of questioning. I don’t know why I found myself looking at Gyn. Searching for a hint maybe? But their face had gone into neutral poker mode.

  With a whisper, I took a wild swing and said, “Find. . . another ally?”

  I flinched when Lynn smmed a palm down on the table.

  “That’s EXACTLY what I’d do. Er — exactly what I am doing, I mean. You see, that neutral nation has a missing princess. And Teena, here, tells me she’s been hiding somewhere in Kylson for weeks now. But despite their best efforts, Teena and Gyn haven’t been able to find her.”

  Lynn scratched the heads of each shriekwing bodyguard sitting next to her as she spoke, and I heard them honest-to-gods coo.

  Their retionship mystifies me, I thought. If they were dating in my world, they’d be texting each other things like *noms you* almost nonstop.

  But that wasn’t my business. They were adorable in their own strange way.

  Outside on the street below, we heard a big crash. It was loud enough that Gyn got up to check the window.

  “Some drunkard crashed his cart into a merchant stand,” she said. On her way back to the table, she caught the governess’ eyes.

  “While you’re up, can you grab us a fruit ptter, please? I’m getting hungry.”

  Gyn nodded and before leaving said, “Of course, my governess.”

  She left, and Juno scratched her head.

  “So. . . you’re looking for a missing princess in the hopes finding her might end her home country’s neutrality?” Juno asked. “You rulers do stay busy, huh?”

  Lynn nodded.

  “Yes, we do. And that’s exactly why I want to request your help,” the governess said as nonchantly as possible.

  Juno’s eyes grew wide.

  “What could you need my help for?” she asked.

  I kept looking back and forth from Lynn to Juno, trying to guess what the governess could possibly request from my companion.

  “Easy,” Lynn said as Gyn returned with a rge silver tray of fruit. “I want you to do what you do best, deliver a letter. Specifically, a letter from me to the missing princess.”

  The tray was covered in chopped apples, peeled oranges, bananas cut in half, blueberries, chunks of pineapple, and tiny red berries that were neither raspberries nor cherries. They were covered in soft hairs, and my brain screamed, “UNFAMILIAR! AVOID AT ALL COSTS.”

  Scowling, I took one of the half-bananas after Lynn threw some blueberries in her mouth. The way she could switch between ruler of a city and friend snacking at a sleepover astounded me almost as much as her retionship with the birdyguards.

  Heh, I thought, quickly suppressing a snort. Birdyguards.

  While my companion searched for her words, Lynn slid a fresh envelope across the table. This one wasn’t marked with magic. It merely had the seal fp folded inside.

  I finished my banana while her hand was still extended across the table. And that’s when I felt magic pour out of my exhausted body and bring the tea room into a familiar silence.

  Oh, come on! I thought. That’s the third time today, Opha. What’s a bunny gotta do to get some rest?

  With a deep sigh, I looked at everyone around the table, finding them frozen or moving so slowly their motion was virtually undetectable.

  Sound from the aftereffects of the crash outside echoed through the room distorted to my rge fuzzy ears.

  Rubbing my eyes, I mumbled, “I’m so fucking tired. I hope this can be solved super easily with barely an inconvenience.”

  And hey, since I was a goddess — er, a demigoddess, maybe I’d get my wish.

  Wrapped around Lynn’s arm were familiar red and green strings I’d come to recognize as good and bad luck.

  “Door number one,” I muttered, grabbing the red string and feeling a violent jolt of electricity pop into my fingers and down my arm.

  The vision pyed out in front of me all too fast, despite the frozen nature of what I was going to dub the Luck Zone.

  One of the windows shattered inward as a man in a bck cloak and silver mask shaped like a badger nded inside the tea room. With his arm raised, he revealed a hand crossbow with the bolt aimed directly at Lynn’s neck.

  “For The Stromberg Empire!” he yelled before pulling the trigger and sending that bolt straight into the governess’ throat.

  A split second ter, Gyn had a knife sticking out of the assassin’s eye, but the damage was done. And I gasped watching Lynn fall backward in her chair into the arms of a screaming Teena, droplets of blood soaking the table and teapot.

  “Fuck!” I hissed, letting go of the red string and noting mild burns on my fingers. The burns smoked almost as much as the envelope from earlier. And I knew at once that I’d somehow overused my luck magic for the day.

  The st of my strength flushed out of me like water from a wrung-out washcloth. My knees bucked as I slid back from the table, and I felt my grip on the Luck Zone fade before I could grab the green string.

  “No!” I screamed, just as time resumed, and everyone stared at me. I was standing ramrod straight, eyes wide, heart fluttering in disarray. I didn’t get to see the good luck outcome. What the fuck was I supposed to do now?

  Gyn raised an eyebrow as I watched Lynn sink back into her seat. It was the exact position she died in seconds ago inside my vision. My mind was racing. Good luck. Bad luck. Future. Fate. And I was just so fucking tired.

  Juno’s hand touched my arm.

  “Tilda? Hon, are you okay?”

  I looked down at her hand and beyond to the banana peel in my grasp. I’d yet to dispose of it. And in the back of my very stupid bunny brain, an idea formed.

  With precious seconds left in Lynn’s life, I tossed the banana peel over to the window’s edge, willing with all my might for it to nd in just the right spot.

  It hit the floor a split second before the window shattered inward. That man in the badger mask was able to shout, “For The Stromberg Emp — ahhhhhh!” before he slipped backward and fell out of the very window he entered through.

  Everyone’s eyes were the size of dinner ptes, minds probably running from “Why are you littering in the tea room?” to “What the fuck was that?”

  We all heard the man scream as he fell and crashed into the cart/stall wreckage below. And with my giant ears, I could even hear him moaning in pain afterward.

  “That was, um, a would-be assassin, I think. Maybe even the spy you were hunting for earlier, Gyn. He was going to,” my voice faltered as the image of Lynn’s neck being torn open shrieked into my memories. “To. . . shoot the governess with a small crossbow.”

  Teena didn’t hesitate, running over to the window.

  “I’ll take care of him,” she said, before diving over the broken gss.

  The room was starting to spin, and I struggled to make out much of what Lynn was saying. I think she was making the case for Juno to find the missing princess and deliver Lynn’s message.

  “You’re a messenger. Delivering letters is your specialty. And with a Lucky Bunny at your side, it shouldn’t take long,” the governess said.

  I could see Juno swaying from side to side, unsure of what to say.

  “I’ll tell you what, Juno. I’ll sweeten the pot. Take this letter, and upon its successful delivery, I’ll send Gyn to tell you the location of Pierre Heelix.”

  My companion gasped.

  “My bodyguards may not be able to find the princess. But your ex-husband? That didn’t take them more than a couple of hours. Rumor has it, you’ve been trying to find him for years. You’re the only messenger in the guild with an undeliverable letter from years gone by. Help me, and I’ll help you finally deliver that st message.”

  I didn’t hear Juno’s response because I slumped over on the table, the st bit of magic and strength spent to save the governess.

  Fortunately, she returned the favor by ordering Gyn to carry me back to the inn, not that I remembered much of it.

  By the time my head felt a pillow under it, the st thing my mind was capable of comprehending was, bed!