~Florence

  It's finally Listar Eve, the night we open Midnight Garden Cafe! Rebecca has outdone herself in painting the front windows. How she is such an expert with painting words backwards is a mystery to me—I am just thankful to have such useful skills at my disposal. Now the front of the store says:

  Grand Opening!

  Enjoy Free Samples

  During the Listar Eve Festival

  Most people like to don masks as part of the festivity, but not the kind you'd see at a masquerade ball. Listar Eve masks are much more crude, often made of materials like leather and paper, so that people from all stations can participate. Rather than securing the masks to their faces, they are mounted on a stick to make it easy to take them on and off. I remember seeing anything from animals to silly faces at the festivals when I was a child.

  Most of my staff are working tonight, since the inside of the shop will be open during the festival. Outside, on a long, decorated table, we have thermoses with hot coffee set up, as well as a tower of clean cups

  My heart refuses to cooperate! Tonight will probably determine the success of the shop—after all, a few negative comments from the wrong mouth can do as much damage as a sword to flesh.

  Boom!

  The first firework goes off, decorating the sky with brilliant gold sparkles. Cheers erupt around the city. The Listar Eve Festival begins!

  Tonight, I have dressed more plainly and am carrying a cat mask. My hair is covered by a veil. I do not want it known that I, Florence LaVelle, daughter of Duke LaVelle, own a shop. Father would never approve. It is much better if the proprietor remains a mystery, at least for now.

  I stand outside the front of Midnight Garden Cafe, close enough to hear the customers, yet far enough that I am not getting in the way. I am holding one of the cups of coffee, subtly encouraging people to try it.

  There are throngs of people in the streets, slowly moving from one shop to another, and all the other tables and stands that have popped up in the street in between. There is no traffic in the shopping district on the night of the festival to protect everyone walking.

  Someone approaches!

  "Midnight Garden Cafe," the man says, lowering his old man mask. "Never heard of it! What's all this, then?"

  Nicholaus explains how our cafe works, then offers a cup of steaming coffee to the man. He sniffs and recoils.

  "I've never smelled anything like it!" he exclaims.

  "Some of our customers enjoy drinking it plain, preferring the bitter, yet savory, qualities. However, we have cream and sugar here if you'd like to try it another way."

  The man drinks it plain, scowls, then asks Nicholaus to "fix it up." My heart is pounding—if he still doesn't like it…

  But on his next sip, the man's eyebrows lift in surprise. "It's like a totally different drink!" he exclaims. "How is that possible? When you add milk and sugar to tea, it still tastes like tea, but this…amazing! I could definitely drink this all night."

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "You might not want to do that, not if you plan on sleeping," Nicholaus cautions with a smile. "A secret benefit of coffee is its ability to increase your stamina and alertness."

  "Now that I find hard to believe," the man counters. "I'll be back if I don't feel any different!"

  Still, he turns to his group of friends who have gathered near, and excitedly tells them about the strange, yet delicious, beverage he tried.

  I release the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

  The night passes quickly after that. We end up washing all the cups multiple times to replenish our sample supplies, and brew even more coffee than I anticipated. Quite a few of our tables inside are also full. It's hard not to smile—this is turning out much better than expected! It's a good thing nearly all the staff are working tonight.

  "What is a pretty kitty-cat doing outside at this hour of night?" a man, dressed in quality, yet plain clothing, asks me. He is surrounded by a dark, hooded cape and hides his face behind a dragon mask.

  His voice sounds a little familiar…

  "Enjoying the festival, like everyone else," I reply. I take off my mask to have another sip of coffee.

  "Aha! I knew it was you, Lady Florence."

  My eyebrows draw together as I concentrate. I catch a sliver of golden hair above his mask in the lamplight. No, it can't be His Highness! Why would he be wandering around the festival?

  But then the man takes my cup and takes a sip of my coffee, which I had doctored with cream and sugar for a late-night treat. My mouth drops open at his audacity—then I recognize his face.

  It is His Highness!

  I drop into a hurried curtsy, "Welcome, Your—"

  "Shh!" he presses his hand over my mouth. "Nobody knows I'm here," he continues, his voice lowered. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

  I nod, my face still covered by his large, warm hand. He smells of sword oil, a scent that grounds me.

  "You haven't answered my question, Kitty-Cat," he says, still clutching my cup. "Why are you here, standing in front of this specific shop, instead of tucked safely in bed inside LaVelle Mansion?"

  Well, he caught me. Out of everyone I expected to run into, the prince was the last person I expected. Memories of our past conversations begin to surface, and I remember—he's far too perceptive. There's no way I can lie to him. He'd wrangle the truth out of me eventually.

  "If you promise not to tell…" I say quietly, and he nods, "I'll tell you the truth. This is my shop. We sell what you're drinking, coff—"

  "Coffee," he interrupts, taking another sip. "Delicious coffee, too."

  Warmth blossoms in my chest at his compliment.

  "Thank you," I murmur. He hands me back his empty cup.

  "Might I persuade you for another, my lady?" he asks.

  "Right this way, Your—er," I falter. What do I call the prince?!

  "Landros," he supplies. "Please, call me Landros."

  I nod, my cheeks warm. I can't believe he wants me to use his name!

  I lead him to a private parlor on the second floor, both of which have been closed for the evening.

  With fresh cups of coffee, the two of us sit down on opposite plush settees.

  "So," he says, "what is this place? Another one of your secrets?"

  I decide it's probably best to tell him everything. He'd find out anyway, one way or another.

  "So…" he says when I'm done, "can I invest in your shop?"

  "Uh…" my brain struggles to digest what the prince just asked. "What?"

  ?????

  royal investor?! What could this mean for Florence and Midnight Garden Cafe? Anyway, thanks for reading chapter 45! See you next week

  xo??kb