~Florence

  Winter holiday is here. However, it doesn't feel like much of a holiday, since I'm still taking a couple of condensed courses. Thank the Saintess, I can teleport! I finally convinced Father that it was safe (not to mention, it saves me a lot of time…) to teleport to the Academy.

  He even met with Professor Windemere to gain his approval, though it seemed like he was mostly after reassurance. So, I teleport to the Mage Tower and meet Professor Windemere every day of the week to take my two courses: the first being Advanced Kinetic Magic, and the second being the less exciting Theory of Matter. The first is physically demanding, while the second is, shall I say, a mental strain.

  I do not teleport home immediately after classes like I am supposed to. Instead, I teleport to a small room above Midnight Garden Cafe, the cafe Sir Thorne and I purchased on the corner of Rosemary Row and Flint Street. I plan to keep this room for my personal use, so I have added a staircase on the rear wall of the building with an exterior entrance, locked at all times. I need a safe place to teleport to since I'll be coming here a lot.

  We are having the Grand Opening on the first day of the year, which is coming up quickly. The Winter's Eve Masquerade was on the Hadros Eve, the thirteenth month of the year, and the shortest with only thirteen days. The transition from Hadros, the month that celebrates winter and sleep, to Listar, the month of peace and music, is always celebrated with parties, a festival, and fireworks to welcome the new year. People will be out and about all night long, so what better time could there be to open our late-night cafe?

  Sir Thorne suggested offering free samples outside the shop during the festival, which I think is a great idea. It will definitely generate interest, at least!

  Everything is ready to go: the interior renovations are complete, the new furniture is installed, along with the custom counter that holds both the host station and a counter for taking orders to go. If customers bring their own thermos, or buy one of ours, they can take their beverages with them (yes, I am sort of stealing this idea…). They also get a small discount to incentivize this! After all, there is only so much floor space, so if we can make money without sacrificing seating, all the better.

  Our coffee shop opens at four o'clock in the afternoon and closes at dawn, though we may adjust the hours depending on the traffic we get. I head out through the front door and look at my building.

  Our building, my mind corrects, and I sigh. It's true, it isn't solely mine…But I was the one who designed the renovation, chose colors, and selected the furniture, so it feels like it's mine. The sage green exterior is a conscious choice—it's delicate enough for the ladies not to get intimidated (it seems like boutiques and other stores frequented by ladies seem to almost always have a light or pastel color), but not too feminine for the gentlemen. The "midnight garden" in Midnight Garden Cafe is in large, lilting cursive, while "cafe" sits below it in a smaller, yet bold, serif style.

  The large front windows have custom shelves built around them, allowing for small potted plants and flowers to frame each window from the inside. Outside, there will be window planters once spring arrives.

  There are three steps up to the double doors made of dark, sophisticated walnut. The dark walnut continues inside on the hardwood floor and the counter, making the interior look large and connected. The tables by the windows offer seating for three at square tables, and the rest of the tables are circular, in three sizes—most seat four, four seat two, and one large table seats up to eight—all covered in crisp, white tablecloths with a live, potted centerpiece.

  Allen, Nicholas, and Rebecca, three of my employees, are here getting things organized, stocking the kitchen storage, and making final touches. Rebecca is a wonderful artist and offered to paint the interior of the windows, advertising that we will open on Listar Eve with samples.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Once I'm satisfied, I head upstairs. In addition to my private room, there are two carpeted sitting rooms furnished with couches and armchairs, open to our guests unless they are rented (for a fee, of course). There are two water closets for our guests, one for women and one for men. I head to my private room.

  It's much smaller than my room in the annex, but it is furnished with a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a small, private water closet. On the desk is a project I have been working on in secret—a "living" machine.

  Most large machines in Dorandia either run on water or steam, while the smaller, alchemical machines rely on magic formulas and crystals to function. The machine I am building is somewhere in between, about the size of a toddler, and if it works correctly…it will be semi-autonomous.

  The issue is the autonomy. I have little use for a machine that relies on constant commands to function, all input by hand, because that will just take me more time to use. I need an "assistant," of sorts, to anticipate my needs and respond to verbal commands.

  It all comes down to giving it a "soul," but the…traditional method of doing that would be to require sacrificing a living being, and I refuse to do that. That is dark, forbidden magic. So, I have been experimenting with giving it my dreams instead. Only my good dreams.

  So far, it has been able to memorize the language it learns from my dreams…but the problem is that it speaks in the voices it learns the language from, so a single sentence might have a dozen different voices, one for each word. It is both amusing and disturbing to hear it try to "talk" to me.

  Has this been done before? Not that I know of. Is it dangerous? Possibly. But I can't help my urge to create something like this. If it succeeds, I'll have my very own, completely private, immortal (so long as it doesn't run out of crystals) assistant to help me with whatever needs doing.

  Because, I remember with a sigh, there is so very much to do.

  ?????

  ~Trevor

  The cafe was coming along splendidly! Whenever he stopped by, he couldn't help but feel full of pride for Lady Florence. She has poured so much of her precious time and energy into this place, and it shows.

  "Hello, Walter," Trevor says, greeting the employee as he enters the shop.

  "Ah! Hello, Sir Thorne," Walter replies, wiping his hands on his apron. "What brings you by?"

  "I just wanted to check on things and see how they were going," he says. "And if you'd like the practice, I'd love a cup of coffee."

  "Certainly, sir!"

  As Trevor walks slowly around the cafe, Walter gets to work. Soon, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hits his nose, and he inhales deeply, exhaling with a sigh.

  To his surprise, Lady Florence appears, walking down the stairs. Shit.

  "Sir Thorne!" she exclaims. "What a surprise. What are you doing here?"

  "Stealing a cup of coffee," he says, subtly checking that his hood is still up. "What about you?"

  "Just getting this ready and working on some things upstairs. Then I smelled the coffee."

  He smiles, trying hard to control his mouth

  "Well, then," she says, heading toward Walter, "shall we?"

  Trevor nods, then dips his head, trying to remember what he talked to Lady Florence about the last time he saw her as Sir Thorne.

  This is getting more and more difficult, he thought, sitting down at the large table. Walter had made enough coffee for everyone there, so Lady Florence declared it was time for a break.

  Despite his worry that she would discover his deception at any moment, he was happy to see her smiling.

  But it's worth it, he thought, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the coffee.

  xo??kb