FREYA
They cross the tea house toward me, and I keep my gaze on them as they approach.
"Luna." Tessa dips her head, flustered, her hands knotting in front of her. "I did not know you would be here. I am sorry, I—"
"Tessa." I keep my voice even. "It is fine."
The man stops a respectful distance from my table and inclines his head, and up close the pull of him is worse, not better. The scar runs deep across his brow and through one eye and down to his cheek, an old wound, long healed, and even with it ruining half his face there is something in him I feel like I have seen a thousand times but cannot name once.
"Luna Freya." His voice is low and warm. "It is an honour. A true honour. I have heard a great deal about you."
"Have you?” I look at him, and I look at Tessa, and back. "I am af
