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  I woke from the dead. Where was I? Why didn’t my arm go off to get me up for work? Why does my bed smell different?

  These questions and more ran through my slowly waking brain.

  Why does it feel like my entire body is wrapped in hair? I thought, my eyes refusing to open as I battled to enter the waking world.

  “Do you want some help with that quilt, hon?” Juno asked.

  Juno! I thought, my eyes bolting open. Opha! Bunny Goddess! Fevara. Holy shit. I’m a goddamn Easter Bunny now.

  Memories of the st 48 hours flooded back into my mind. The train, the boy, the goddess, the reincarnation, the luck magic, the governess, the would-be assassin.

  Oh my god, I thought.

  “There you are,” Juno said as I finally pulled myself free of the quilt I’d been wrapped in sometime during the night.

  I thought it’d take me a while to get used to sleeping in a permanent fur coat, but all my new hair did was make me feel extra cozy, completely buried under the quilt. I imagined it’s how most rabbits felt in their burrows. Like nothing could get me in my peaceful slumber. Just a little ball of warmth in the darkness.

  “Sorry,” I said, yawning and revealing my rge front teeth. “I think using my luck magic so many times yesterday left me extra drained. What time is it?”

  Juno was dressed, bathed, and looked like she’d already been out. It was only after I realized this that the smell of warm bread, fruit, and honey blessed my twitching nose. Turning to the little side table beside me, I found myself greeted by an old wooden breakfast tray. Sitting on top was half a loaf of warm bread, a jar of honey, and a bowl of grapes and blueberries. My mouth watered.

  With a muted chuckle, my companion said, “Yeah, I tried to wake you up a few hours ago, and nothing worked. You were dead to the world. So, I went out, ran a few errands, and brought you back some breakfast. Maybe even lunch. It’s almost noon.”

  I tore my hungry eyes away from the feast beside my bed and tossed a bashful look at Juno. Noon? Fuck. I’d never slept that te before, especially not on a workday.

  Growing up, my family never let me sleep past 8 a.m., even on weekends. I’d always be dragged out of bed for chores or errands. Sometimes there wasn’t anything to do. My folks just didn’t like the idea of someone being asleep when they were awake. It was like they took personal offense to the idea.

  “Apologies, Juno. I didn’t mean to be so hard to wake up.”

  Rolling her eyes, my companion shook her head.

  “Stop apologizing. You were exhausted. We had a busy day yesterday. Besides, you weren’t hard to wake. I knew the smell of food would take care of it,” she said, a warm smile gracing her lips.

  My stomach growled as if to answer her, and I suddenly wanted to bury myself back in the bnket burrow. Day three in my bunny body, and it’d already betrayed me to shame!

  Juno gracefully ignored my growling stomach and walked over to the desk, looking through some parchments.

  “What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked, stretching. “Hopefully, it’s not nearly as busy as yesterday, or I’ll probably crash even harder tonight.”

  Pcing my palms against the wall, I stretched as hard as I could, yawning again, my puffy tail twitching. My shoulders popped as the room went fuzzy, and I was hit with a bit of lightheadedness. The good kind.

  When I turned to Juno, I found her with a hand on each cheek wearing a ridiculous grin on her face.

  “Uh. . . hi?”

  “Do you have any idea how ridiculously adorable that was just now?” the messenger asked, looking like she was about to let go of her cheeks and grab mine.

  I scratched the back of my head, unsure of what to say in this instance. Did I say thanks? Did I get grumpy and tell her to stop being silly? Or did I just stand here with my brain overloading, continuing to appear. . . bashful maybe? It was hard to picture myself in this new form.

  “Still not quite used to accepting compliments, I see.”

  “It’s day three, Juno. Maybe in year three, I’ll have mastered that skill,” I said, turning once more to the breakfast by my bed.

  While I performed a magic trick by making breakfast disappear, Juno filled me in on her morning errands. She’d been quite busy while I sawed logs.

  “I have no idea how we’re going to find this hiding princess, but I did set a few things in motion. Also, since you’re my apprentice messenger now, I went by the Letter Carriers Guild headquarters and picked up your first parcel.”

  And there it was in Juno’s hands. I wiped a bit of honey off my cheeks before I took the scroll into my hands. The beige paper was thin and pulled tight. It was about the length of a paper towel roll. A thick bck ribbon kept the parchment rolled tight with a tiny notecard clipped to the bow. My eyes swept over the address on the notecard.

  “This is my. . . first official delivery?” I asked, my heart swelling with a little pride at the thought of my first big girl job with the guild.

  “Yup! Fun stuff. I still remember my first delivery to this day. It was a small box of custom gss vials to a shellback who lived out in the middle of a swamp. I got lost four or five times because the trail wasn’t maintained well,” Juno said. “How do you feel? Excited?”

  I nodded, staring at the scroll in my paws. It felt ridiculous to be this thrilled, but my hands tightened a little, and my eyes lit with joy. A big old grin overtook my lips as I thumped my left foot up and down with giddiness.

  Had I been a mailman for years and delivered thousands of parcels before now? Absolutely. Did that diminish my etion of my first official guild gig? Not in the slightest. I was eager to run out the door and get it done.

  “Super thrilled!” I said. “Just call me Kiki.”

  Juno cocked her head to the side.

  “I thought you’d chosen the name Tilda? Are you changing it already? I was rather fond of that name for you, to be honest,” my partner said in confusion.

  I waved her off.

  “No. . . I’m still Tilda. It’s an expression where I come from. Just. . . forget it,” I said, scratching the back of my head again.

  Shrugging, Juno walked over to a spare grape I’d missed and snatched it.

  Staring at the address again, I frowned, a new realization dawning on me.

  “Hang on. How am I going to find North Forest Road?” I asked. “Are you going to go with me?”

  Juno patted me on the back, and I fought not to twitch at her touch. Not because it was unpleasant, but because I still wasn’t used to physical dispys of affection yet.

  That’s going to take a little bit to unlearn, I thought.

  Outside in the hall, a father walked by with a screaming baby, trying desperately to calm her. He didn’t appear to be winning the battle. My ears quickly drooped from the sudden noise, but thankfully, he returned to his room.

  When the noise died down, Juno handed me a cute brown cross-body purse with a bunch of bck and white bunnies sleeping in a field of flowers handpainted on it.

  “Is this. . . for me?” I asked, my eyes widening.

  She nodded.

  “Consider this your apprentice messenger starter pack,” Juno said. “Inside the purse, you’ll find a hand-drawn map of Kylson, complete with all the beled streets in the city. You’ll also find sharpened pencils, a notebook for signatures and parcel delivery, and two bags of snacks, one mushroom jerky, and one assorted nuts. After all, messengers shouldn’t be hungry on the job.”

  I looked at everything in the purse and started to tear up. It was an extremely thoughtful present. The edges of my vision grew blurry as I wiped at them with my paws.

  “Hey! No crying. This is a right of passage for all apprentice messengers. C’mon, it’s really not a big deal,” Juno said, patting my shoulder.

  “My apologies. It appears I’m used to neither being called adorable nor receiving gifts from pretty girls,” I said, finally clearing my eyes.

  Juno paused while it finally dawned on me what I’d told her.

  “The Bunny Goddess thinks I’m pretty?!” Juno shrieked with a smug ugh, hands back on her cheeks.

  Shit, I thought. I’m never going to live that down.

  Coughing and gently pcing my new purse on the bed, I tried and failed to salvage my shame.

  “Well, I mean, it’s an objective observation, you see? It’s no different for me to call the ocean pretty or flowers in a garden. So —” I started, but Juno cut me off.

  “A goddess called me pretty! This is the happiest day of my life,” she said, pretending to stare off into space with stars in her eyes.

  All I could do was sit there pouting on the bed until the messenger was finished. Of course, I had the feeling this would reappear from time to time. She’d never truly be “done” with this so long as we traveled together.

  “Oh, don’t be angry, my complimentary Luck Bunny! You’re so much more fun to travel with when you’re being sweet or adorable.”

  I sighed as she rubbed my head in a mock apology.

  As she did, my shoulders drooped, and then she wasn’t the one staring off into space, I was. And the magic I’d restocked in my sleep started to drain ever so slightly. Gooseflesh built on my arms, and I heard nothing but static in my mind.

  “Whoops! Sorry. Forgot that lends me some of your luck magic,” Juno said, taking her hand back.

  “S’fine,” I said, my words slurring together.

  It was probably dangerous for me to be so lightheaded again this close to waking up, but in the end, it only amounted to another yawn or two.

  “Well, I guess I’ll need that luck for my princess search today.”

  I shook my head as things began to clear again.

  “Your princess search?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Tilda. But that delivery will eat up a good chunk of your day. The recipient is clear across Kylson. And I’ve got more leads to chase down. I don’t like to linger in the same spot for too long, so I’d like to get on the road again as quickly as possible.”

  Looking down at the floor, I nodded. It made sense. And hey, we’d still be working in the same city. I bet we’d be together again by supper.

  “You want to get back on the road again. . .,” I said, feeling my voice grow quieter. “Because you feel like being a messenger allows you to outrun bad thoughts.”

  Surprise draped itself across my companion’s face. Her eyes widened. Then, a sort of mencholic smile took the pce of her previous grin.

  “You remembered me saying that yesterday, huh?”

  I nodded, trying my best to tread carefully. But recalling the governess’ offer to Juno only fmed my curiosity all the more.

  “Can I ask. . . do the bad thoughts you’re trying to outrun have anything to do with your ex-husband?”

  Juno grew still, and I was suddenly extremely aware of how hard my heart was beating. Maybe I didn’t have a right to know this information. But if Juno insisted on continuing to buy me gifts. . . to train me as a messenger. . . to travel with me on her journey, it was something that would have to be addressed sooner or ter.

  I didn’t have any remaining secrets from Juno, aside from how quickly I might be falling for her.

  Wait. Falling?! I thought, trying to py it cool as emotions made themselves apparent for the first time in my quickened heartbeat. I’ll put a pin in that for ter. Juno is where my focus needs to be right now, not my hypothetical crush on her.

  Juno’s words recaptured my attention.

  “Of course, you’re allowed to ask about him. But I’m not quite ready to tell you that story yet.”

  My companion’s fingers started to move toward her abdomen, and she stopped herself, clutching them into a fist.

  I raised an eyebrow but quickly shook my head again.

  “No! You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’m sorry to bring it up,” I said.

  Juno walked over and took my hands in hers.

  “Uh. . . Juno?” I whispered.

  Our eyes locked, and for a moment, neither of us spoke.

  We paused there in each other’s presence, just staring at one another. It should have felt awkward given our topic of conversation, but it didn’t.

  “It’s an answer you deserve, Tilda. But it’s a sensitive issue for me. I’m just gonna need you to be patient while I work up the guts to tell the story, okay?”

  I slowly nodded.

  “Good. With your map and notes, you shouldn’t have any issue finding that address. Remember to get their signature. The coinkeepers won’t pay you for your log if you don’t have a signature for every delivery. Got it?”

  I nodded once more.

  With a quick ruffle of my hair, Juno left the room, and I was alone. Lightly spping my cheeks and being careful of my whiskers, I tried to shake off the awkward feeling that’d built up inside me.

  You didn’t do anything wrong, I thought, sighing. Juno said she’d tell you ter. If she was mad at you, Juno wouldn’t have made a promise like that.

  Reassuring myself always ended up being a losing battle. I should have asked to be self-confident in Opha’s apartment, not soft.

  I tried to focus on the delivery, pulling out a folded map and pausing to admire the detail. I wasn’t expecting expert cartography and precise detail in a hand-drawn map, but this looked like a custom job. No printing press was involved here. A skilled mapmaker spent hours or days making this. How much did it cost Juno?

  Staring closely at the paper, I was able to see every street in the city clearly beled. Like Juno had told me upon entry, Kylson was built on the shores of a mighty river to the north. And the city was rgely cut into four sections. The west of Kylson appeared to be its central business district most heavily filled with shops and restaurants. South Kylson was filled with more industrial space, butchers, fisheries, and even a sughterhouse. East Kylson was home to the Governance Hall and most of the city’s temples. While North Kylson was filled with a small quarry, docks, and commercial gssworkers.

  “It seems like this city was pretty well id out from its original construction around the river,” I mumbled, taking a second to appreciate how beautifully engineered the yout was.

  I guess spending years delivering mail through small-town streets left me with an appreciation for urban yout and design.

  Amazing what you can do with a city when an automobile industry isn’t lobbying leaders to ruin every square inch, I thought.

  Hopefully, Fevara was still a few centuries away from that bullshit.

  Regardless, I found North Forest Road on a line that straddled the western and southern divisions of Kylson.

  After a quick wash, I was on my way, cd in my overalls and a thin bck fabric Juno bought me this morning to support the dies. It felt a little strange to have it wrapped around my bosom under my armpits, but I got used to it.

  Small price to pay to have the right body, I thought.

  It took me the better part of an hour to make my way across Kylson on foot. The city was wider than I’d initially thought. I was also dazzled by a woman making gss behind a roped-off section of the park. She’d set up a furnace, and had tongs, hammers, gloves, and everything, all while she made a dragonfly the size of her arm.

  Eventually, I arrived at a structure that was little more than a stone staircase leading down to a door painted bck and white like a cow. A sign was nailed to the top. It read “The Down Lounge.”

  Down because. . . it’s down in the ground? I thought, confused.

  Knocking on the door, I was surprised when a wooden panel slid to the side, revealing a pair of brown eyes.

  “Password?” an androgynous voice said.

  I just stood there blinking. Juno hadn’t told me about any passwords a messenger might use. And I didn’t have one written on the scroll anywhere.

  “Password?” the voice said again, louder, slower, but still patient.

  I shrugged.

  “Sorry? I don’t have one. I’m with the Letter Carrier’s Guild. I have a delivery to make,” I said.

  The eyes stared at me expectantly, and it occurred to me what they wanted.

  “Oh! Shit. Hang on.”

  I fumbled through my purse until I found and produced my badge.

  The person behind the door seemed satisfied with this, sliding the panel shut and unlocking two deadbolts.

  When the door opened, I was surprised to see the voice belonged to a feminine-presenting individual wearing a long bck dress, nails painted red, just like their eyes.

  “Hi, I’m Tilda,” I said. “I’ve brought a letter for a. . . LaDonna Bellmuse?”

  “That’s me. Why don’t you come on down to the bar? I was just finishing up some paperwork. We don’t have too many customers during daylight hours.”

  So, I followed LaDonna down a story and was greeted by a polished tile floor leading over to a raised stage. Three unlit nterns with pale mp covers hung suspended over the performance area.

  I tried to imagine what kinds of music were pyed here. What were they called? People who pyed on stages like this or at taverns? Bards?

  I really should have watched The Witcher, I thought, rolling my eyes.

  The L-shaped bar came into view as my feet touched the floor. Like the door above, it was painted with a cow motif. Round gray metal stools lined the bar, with one man at the corner asleep, slumped over what appeared to be a few gsses with a little milk left in each.

  Milk? I thought. What kind of bar is this?

  A tall potted fern kept the man company, positioned next to the bar. It had a sibling on the stage in the back corner that was even taller.

  LaDonna walked behind the bar and motioned for me to have a seat at the opposite end of the counter from the sleeping man.

  “Do you have questions about the patron or what he’s drinking?” they asked, stacking some loose sheets of paper and folding one over before scribbling a few notes on the back.

  “Both? I guess. I’ve never been here before,” I said. “Actually, I think the more important opening question is. . . how do you like to be addressed?”

  If I’d run into LaDonna on the streets of Bartlesville, I’d assume at first gnce they were a trans woman like me. Well, okay, not exactly like me. They’d actively chosen to transition. I needed to be struck by a train and reincarnated before I made the same choice.

  The bartender chuckled, a nice belly ugh that instantly became infectious.

  “Honey, I like to be addressed any number of ways, including Juggs, Hey You, Queenie, Sweet Cheeks, and LaDonna Scarlett III.”

  I just sat there, stunned. That first nickname made sense on account of their bosom that put mine to shame. And they filled out the dress extremely well. I couldn’t even guess at the origin of those other names. I bet they came with great stories, though.

  LaDonna pulled out a cigarette from. . . somewhere (how did she do that?), lighting it with a match struck across the top of the bar.

  “But I imagine you were thinking more about tact and how to refer to me in conversation, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Just trying to be polite. I’m uh. . . well, people thought I was a guy for a long time. I’m not, though. And it makes me really happy to be treated like a woman — because I am one. So, I wanted to make sure you’d be happy when I referred to you. Sorry, that was a lot of words.”

  That earned me another belly ugh, and then LaDonna just stared at me, cigarette smoke drifting over her nose and up into the air. She started to tap one of her nails on the bar before talking again. My eyes drifted from her painted nails to her olive skin on the back of her hands. A few wrinkles ran down the back behind her knuckles. And I guessed that LaDonna must have been in her mid-50s.

  “You know, I do so enjoy visitors who remember their manners. It also makes me gd when people treat me like a woman. I learned many years ago that I was happier when my momma called me her favorite little girl.”

  I stared at the bar surface, smiling. I’m not sure why finding another woman like me left warm and fuzzy feelings on the inside. Maybe there was just some joy in seeing a woman like me live to “old age,” even in a world where the lifespan for trans people wasn’t counted separate from cis folks because people here didn’t spend all their time hating us and thinking of ways to cut our lives short.

  But more than that, I think it was just. . . neat to have my first delivery be made to a woman like me.

  Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the scroll and slid it across the bar for LaDonna. She took it gently from my paws.

  She reached under the bar and pulled out a pair of bck reading gsses that left her eyes looking blurry from this distance. While she unwrapped the scroll and started to read it, her free hand opened an icebox door by her knees, and pulled out a rge jar and chilled cup, setting them both in front of me.

  The gss started to fog over from the temperature difference.

  “Hmmmmmm,” LaDonna said, a small scowl forming on her brow as she read more of the scroll.

  Without looking, she popped the cork on the jar and filled the gss halfway, sliding it even closer to me.

  “To answer your questions, the sleeping man is Gorman. He’s usually the st customer in the lounge. As long as he doesn’t snore, I usually let him sleep for a while. Life hasn’t been too kind to him tely. He usually puts away three gsses of milk before passing out.”

  I looked at my drink again.

  “This is a. . . dairy bar?”

  LaDonna nodded, still reading her letter.

  “Plenty of pces above ground serve ale. I figured I’d do something different and pour customers milk down here. Seems to have worked well over the st decade,” she said.

  I nodded, shrugged, and took a drink of the milk. It was refreshingly cold and had a hint of blueberry fvor.

  “Wow. I’ve never been a huge milk drinker, but that’s pretty good. How did you get it to be so creamy?” I asked, taking another drink.

  “Honey, I like you and your manners, but you’re gonna have to buy a lot more milk before I give away my business secrets,” LaDonna said, putting the scroll down.

  She winked at me, despite her frustration with whatever was in the letter. I quietly finished my drink while she got a second gss and poured herself milk from the same rge jar.

  “I take it I didn’t bring you good news?” I asked.

  LaDonna shook her head.

  “Ah, it’s not your fault. The letter is from one of the two ranchers I buy milk from. His herd was hit by rustlers, and it’s put him out of commission for a while. So now I’ve either gotta see if I can buy more from the first rancher or try to find another supplier.”

  She shook her head and took a long drink.

  Tapping her nails on the bar, LaDonna looked me over.

  “Of course, with that long face of yours, it looks like you’re brought troubles of your own, darling.”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s nothing,” I said.

  LaDonna poured me a second drink.

  “Sweetie, it’s a rule here in the lounge that when Sweet Cheeks asks you a question, you answer. You’re new here, so I won’t hold that against you. But you remember it for next time,” she said.

  I snickered. This felt so silly to even bring up. Still, I took another sip and armed myself with. . . dairy courage? Was that a thing?

  “Ah, it’s this girl. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’ve got a crush on a woman I work with.”

  LaDonna shrugged.

  “I’ve had lots of crushes on people who have worked here at the lounge. What about this situation are you having trouble believing, doll?”

  Another grin. Fuck, I loved the way she talked to me.

  “I just met her three days ago. And I’ve only known that I’m a woman for. . . well, also not very long. It just doesn’t feel like I’m. . . legally allowed to have a crush on someone this quickly.”

  To my left, Gorman snorted in his sleep, his left leg knocking against the bar.

  Scratching her cheek, LaDonna just stared at me again.

  “Last I checked, the governess didn’t have any ordinances mandating a minimum number of days required for you to know someone before you have a crush on them. I watch customers come into this lounge every night. People arrive separately, eye each other across the room for an hour or two, get to talking, and leave together. A crush has to happen at some point, and we’re only talking about a window of a few hours at most,” LaDonna expined like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  And I guess, to her, it was. She’d had this pce for a decade. Clearly, the woman had seen a few things.

  “So. . . my crush isn’t, like, out of bounds or anything? It’s not weird to have one so fast?” I asked.

  Now LaDonna snorted.

  “Honey, I’ve seen girls come into my lounge and start kissing after three minutes of knowing each other. Hell, I’ve set some of them up. A crush after three days is hardly a capital crime.”

  I wasn’t sure how she’d done it, but in the course of a single conversation, LaDonna had left me feeling better. A lot better. And it’s not like I had to act on my feelings. Just knowing I could have them and not be a freak was a relief.

  Finishing my drink, I thanked LaDonna and got her signature.

  As I hopped off the stool, I said, “Thanks for helping me today. I hope you can get your dairy supplier sorted out easily.”

  LaDonna just smiled and offered me a surprisingly dainty wave.

  “It’ll be fine. The Down Lounge has faced bigger problems than this and survived. By the way, if you want to come back here as a customer, and I think you should, the password is Milk Road. Best of luck with your crush, sweetie.”

  I waved and started up the stairs.

  No need for luck, I thought. I’m not going to do anything about it. I just needed to know I wasn’t being inappropriate.

  After all, feelings were just feelings. Crushes went away all the time. I’d be fine.

  “I know Juno is in a hurry to get back on the road, but I hope we have enough time to come back here before we go,” I said, closing the door behind me.

  It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the bright afternoon sunlight. The Down Lounge was cool, dark, and mysterious. I made a mental note to remember how to get back here and then set off to find Juno. Hopefully, she was back at the inn by now, and one of her leads on the princess in hiding had paid off.