The days after the wedding settled into something neither Luna nor Darius had ever really experienced.
Routine.
At first, it felt almost suspicious.
Luna woke each morning expecting an emergency.
A messenger at the gates.
The reflected Book writing in blue ink.
A forgotten enemy coming down from the mountains.
Instead...
She found Darius trying—and failing—to make coffee.
Again.
She leaned against the kitchen doorway.
“You’re burning it.”
He looked down into the pot.
“It hasn’t caught fire.”
“It shouldn’t be smoking.”
He frowned a little.
“I may have misunderstood a step.”
Luna walked over and gently took the spoon from his hand.
“You’re boiling the grounds.”
“I thought stronger coffee required commitment.”
“It requires patience.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist f
