The Little Whiskers Daycare was still officially closed for Festival Prep. Inside, however, it looked like a flour mill had exploded.
I was kneading dough for Moon-Cakes like my life depended on it (because with my rent, it did). Luna was piping frosting onto cookies with intense concentration, and Clover was quality testing the frosting bowl with her finger.
"So," Luna said, her lilac ears twitching with suppressed excitement. "I met someone."
I paused mid-knead. "A customer?"
"No," Luna blushed, turning the frosting bag pink. "A... Fox-kin."
I raised an eyebrow. "A fox? Luna, your father faints if a dog barks too loudly. You’re talking to a Fox-kin right now, but I’m an exception. We are... natural enemies."
"He’s not scary!" Luna insisted. "He’s... charming. His name is Jax. He has this messy orange hair, and these sleepy eyes, and he wears this loose green shirt with the top button undone..."
"Scandalous," I deadpanned.
"And he has one tail!" Luna continued dreamily. "Just one. Big and fluffy. He’s a ’Procurement Specialist’."
"That sounds like a fancy word for ’swindler’," I laughed. "Or a thief."
"He’s funny!" Luna defended. "He called me ’Carrots’. It was... roguish."
Clover looked up from the frosting bowl, her face smeared with blue sugar. "Are you gonna marry him?"
Luna choked. The frosting bag exploded, covering a tray of cookies in a pink blob.
"Clover! Marriage?!" Luna squeaked. "I... we... I mean... Mom and Dad would never..." She sighed, her ears drooping all the way down to her shoulders. "They wouldn’t allow it. A merchant bunny and a... ’freelance’ fox? It’s impossible."
Luna looked at me, her eyes pleading. "What do you think, Prim? You’re a fox. Is it... wrong?"
I wiped my hands on my apron.
"I am not against interspecies marriage," I said honestly. "Love is love. Biology is just details."
Luna’s face brightened.
"But," I added, pointing a floury finger at her, "let’s be realistic. Your parents are traditional prey-kin. Your dad thinks a loud sneeze is a threat display. You and a ’roguish’ fox? It won’t work."
Luna deflated.
"Unless..." I softened my voice. "Unless you convince them. If he’s a good guy, Luna, make him prove it. Make him win them over. Don’t sneak around. Be bold."
Luna nodded slowly, a spark of determination returning to her eyes. "You’re right. I hope... I sure hope he asks me out for the Festival. Maybe if he brings a nice gift..."
She shook her head, clearing the romance fog. She looked at me with a sly grin.
"Speaking of romance... do you have any plans? Any ’Harvest Moon’ confessions planned?"
"Nope," I said, slamming the dough onto the counter. "I plan to sell three hundred Moon-Cakes and pay my utility bill."
"Oh, come on!" Luna nudged me. "What about the Four powerhouse of the empire? They’re basically camping on your doorstep. The Wolf brings you meat. The Tiger brings you armies. The Snake bought your building. Surely one of them..."
"They are clients," I said firmly. "And neighbors. And headaches."
"But they’re handsome!" Luna pressed. "Which one is your type?"
I looked at the ceiling. "Luna. Rurik tries to feed me raw organs. Rajah nearly crushed my ribcage with a hug. Cassian tries to solve emotional problems with tax loopholes. They are not my type. Let’s forget about it."
"You’re hopeless," Luna sighed.
"I’m busy," I corrected.
We finished the prep as the sun began to set. Luna and Clover packed up, waving goodbye as they headed home to dream of roguish foxes.
I locked the door. The shop was quiet. Finally.
I turned off the main lights, leaving only the soft glow of the streetlamp coming through the window. I stretched, my back popping.
"Three down," I whispered to myself. "Just a quiet evening alone—"
Click.
The lock on the front door didn’t turn. The shadows in the corner of the room just... deepened.
I didn’t scream. I was getting used to this.
"You know," I said to the empty room, "it’s rude to enter without jingling the bell."

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