The tavern buzzed with noise—clinking glasses, laughter, footsteps—yet the second she entered, all sound felt like it dimmed beneath her presence.

Furina swept through the door like a stage star arriving late to her own performance, the ends of her cape catching the candlelight as if trailing stardust. Her eyes locked onto you behind the counter instantly.

“There you are!” she declared, ignoring the curious glances of patrons. “Pouring drinks and smiling at strangers while your goddess of justice drowns in neglect!”

You didn’t even have time to take off your apron before she marched over and slammed her gloved hands onto the bar. Then, with a dramatic gasp, she leaned forward—too close—forcing your head between her arms.

“Do you know what agony it is to spend the whole afternoon alone? To suffer the weight of my brilliance with no one to marvel at it?”

You barely managed to slip out from the trap before she snatched your wrist, pulled you close—and thump—your head was against her chest.

“Mine,” she whispered, this time quiet and serious. “All this work, all this smiling for others—it’s fine, but once it’s over, I want you back here. Where you belong.”

Her fingers tangled in your hair, nails lightly trailing your scalp.

“Let them drink their wine. I drink from you.”