So, I have been thinking and come to a conclusion.

Firstly, I love my wife with all my heart.

Secondly, I most likely won’t be able to write a story about me, without shutting up about her, without writing her’s too.

That thought hit me when I got woken up by the first rays of sunlight, and she was cuddling close to me, laying her head on my shoulder.

She is probably the strongest woman in the kingdom and that is not only because of her royal status. I might come back to telling her heroic tales at some point, but for now I think we should focus on the present.

You could say we’ve retired young. We did our service for the kingdom and after that we became parents. So, we decided to take a step back from our previous adventures and settled for a boring city life. I still work for the government, though Zenia, as someone who was literally born part of the government went for a much-needed break.

Which is what she does most of the days, when I am at work, and the children at school.

I remember the first months after moving here. I immediately took on another job for the government. Not like I had to provide for our family, her dad got us covered (god forbid anyone ever sees how I talk about the king) but I needed something to do. And, as you might already know, my current job also has its fair share of interesting happenings and surprises.

Zenia on the other hand really did not know what to do with herself alone and it took me a while to find out. Most of the time she spent alone at home and didn’t have much to do. She tried reading, she tried cooking, but all that felt empty. That’s what she told me.

Now, proceeding, I don’t want to make it sound like being a mother is a woman’s sole purpose, but in Zenia’s case it gave her a purpose for the time being. And through our kids she got to know other people, mostly parents, but that gave her a reason to do anything, really.

And when everyone was grown up (which means ready to go to school on their own) she found herself alone again, but this time it was more like ... she earned her free time, a couple hours every day. Turns out work-life balance really is important, but it goes both ways. You only learn to appreciate the time you have for yourself when it’s not the only thing you have going on in your life.

Or something.

God, here I am once more wasting all that precious paper.

I was going to tell a different story, but what I’ve said thus far is sort of related to what is to come.

Okay, look, basically my wife has an exhibition coming and I am excited, and maybe I also just want to promote it? (To whom though, no-one’s ever going to read this hahaha.)

So, there it is, that’s what my wife ended up doing in her free time most of the time.

(I’m a terrible writer, I’ll never get published at this rate.)

To be honest, I’ve never actually ... seen her paint. Paint anything other than our walls, that is. I just know where she stores some of her brushes and paint, and she occasionally does come home with paint-splatters on her clothes. Though that may well be the blood of her enemies.

She usually paints at a certain cafe, and actually I think it is about time I introduce one of our closest friends and most powerful allies.

***

Despite this being an enormous city, bustling with all kinds of folks, Zenia regularly found herself alone walking through the streets. When the kids were off to school she took her morning walk, enjoying the first warm sunrays, usually taking detours, but always arriving at the same spot: Jeanne‘s Witcheria.

When she first opened her store, we really weren’t convinced of the name, but I guess the store really features whatever you’d need from a witch. Mainly, the witch herself, Jeanne. she was an old (literally, she’s a few centuries old) friend of mine and Jeanne. We’ve fought together in the war and stayed close friends since.

To answer the question of what exactly a "Witcheria" is, it’s Jeanne’s very own store for every service she can provide and every product she takes pleasure in creating. Of course, that entails potions, and herbal medicine, but herbs can also be used for making tea. So, her store doubles as a cute little cafe, where Zenia likes to spend her days off. After all, what’s better than drinking some tea, enjoying the company of your best friends while doing some painting on the side?

Well, I could think of a few things, but this is about my wife after all.

...

If I ever happen to get a day off maybe I should join her for once.

Anyway.

After being out and about for some time she reached the Witcheria and pushed the door open. It was still rather early in the morning. Unless you had children and were jobless (like Zenia) you’d never go to a cafe at this hour. Needless to say, the main area was mostly empty, safe for some two guests sitting at separate tables and one person at the counter who seemed to be buying some medicine.

Zenia took her usual place in the back corner near the counter. She sat at a squared table, her back to the wall. She didn’t like having her back exposed to the entire room. This way she had everything happening in the cafe within her field of view. Also, she was close to the counter which allowed her for some casual conversation with Jeanne who’d be brewing potions or tea.

Jeanne was standing behind the counter, finishing up her customer’s order, before turning to greet Zenia. Her big hat swayed around a bit, and it was somewhat of a marvel it didn’t fall off her head. Zenia eagerly awaited that day ...

"Hey there, darling," Jeanne’s deep yet cheerful voice greeted Zenia. "What can I get for you?"

"I have made a resolve!" Zenia announced.

Jeanne responded with a blank stare and waited for Zenia to elaborate.

"I will try the entire menu from start to finish."

Jeanne fished the menu out of thin air and gave it a brief glance.

"Hmm," she pondered. "I don’t actually think we ever sold every single item on the menu."

"Shouldn’t you ... cut down a bit from the menu then?" Zenia questioned. "I mean, I have no experience working a cafe, but don’t you have a stock of unnecessary ingredients then?"

"Not really, most of the herbs used for my teas can also be used for potions anyway. Or just sold separately."

Indeed, Jeanne had an entire shelf with herbs gathered in preserving jars behind her counter.

"Anyway, could I get the menu, please?" Zenia stretched out her hand as she politely asked for the menu.

"There you go ..."

"So, the first thing would be ... Black Tea." Zenia was a bit disappointed, as it was probably the most common brew in the entire kingdom. It wasn’t an herbal tea though, like in my world, instead it was made from a dark kind of berry common to this area, which, when squeezed gave of a very thick almost syrup like juice. It had a nice sweet and sour taste, that people from other regions (or other worlds) had to get used to at first.

(Why am I explaining this, like I’d explain it to an otherworldler? As far as I know I am the only one of my kind ...)

"A cup of Black Tea coming right up", Jeanne explained, turning on a heel and taking the menu with her.

Zenia put her tote bag onto her lap and produced a few sheets and a pencil from it.

Barely another minute later her tea had arrived. Magic was frequently used to heat things up, so service in most restaurants and the like was fairly quick. Though there are some purists who believe food and beverages heated up by magic don’t have such a refined taste as using actual fire. I guess it’s similar to microwave food now that I think of it.

Jeanne placed the steaming cup of tea in the middle of the table, in front of Zenia’s sheets. A thick mist came from the cup, almost as if someone had put a smoke machine inside it. It gave off a witchy flair. That was Jeanne’s special way of brewing tea. If the internet existed in this world no doubt would this be an Instagram hotspot.

"There you go," Jeanne whispered, as she carefully put the cup down.

Zenia immediately went for her pencil and put the first couple of strokes down. She always used her beverage or food for a quick warm up sketch.

Jeanne was hesitant to interrupt Zenia, as she knew you shouldn’t disturb an artist at work, but after some quick consideration she went for it anyway.

"Say, I’ve been thinking: What do you do with your sketches?"

"I mostly stow them away somewhere at home. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I’ve been thinking about putting a bit more ... effort into decorating this cafe."

Jeanne already put plenty of effort into her cafe. Mostly shelves with jars of herbs, similar to the one behind the counter, but also potted herbs, that she grows herself, as well as some flower and vines, that stretched across the walls. It felt like a greenhouse sometimes. Bright and full of (plant)life. Not a single spot, that she didn’t tend to. Even if you were to be the only guest, the room wouldn’t feel empty at all.

"Oh? What have you been thinking?"

"Well, without beating around the bush, I’ve been thinking about putting up some of your paintings up in my cafe!"

"Well, I’d be honored!" Zenia replied with a smile. "Although ... I don’t know, I’m not sure I am good enough." Zenia looked back down at the rough outline of the cup on her sheet.

"Pah, non-sense. You’ve been here almost every day for the past few months painting. Actually, you should ask me to put up some of your stuff around here," Jeanne retorted with a mischievous grin. "I’m just joking, I would of course actually buy them off of you, what do you say?"

"Oh no, I couldn’t possibly ask that of a friend."

"Pah, friend or not, your effort can’t go without any return. Actually, for us witches it is almost unthinkable not to pay for any piece of art made. Unlike with you humans ..."

It was true, that most human artists barely made anything from their craft, even in this world.

"Well, think about it," Jeanne said, after Zenia had stared at her sketch papers for a few seconds, deep in thought. "In the meantime, how about you enjoy that tea?"

With that, Zenia went back to her sketching. It was just a warm-up sketch, so it took her not more than a quarter of an hour. Of course, she wouldn’t just sketch the same boring beverages every day. I’ve snuck into her study once and peeked at her drawings. Some were of people, some of the plants, and some of the odd stray animal that would walk into the cafe.

By the time Zenia came to a finish, the mist around her Black tea had already mostly dissipated. Not before she managed to draw it of course. She lay her pencil beside the sheet and took a good look at it. Nothing special, but she was happy with the result.

Cracking her knuckles she stretched a bit on her chair, before finally taking the warm mug into her hands.

"You know, you are supposed to drink it hot. You better not complain afterwards, if it has a nasty taste to it," Jeanne called from behind the counter.

"Don’t call me out like that!" Zenia said in a way that implied friendly bickering.

Zenia took a sip from her mug.

"Oh no. How terrible. I have never tasted a beverage this awful." Needless to say, she was dripping with sarcasm.

"Tch, frickin‘ idiot", Jeanne straight replied.

Any outsider watching would either think they were the biggest archenemies or an old married couple. Or both.

"Anyway, time to get to the real deal!" Zenia said after having taken a pause for a few minutes. She stood up, stretched again, and went to Jeanne behind the counter. She was just brewing up some tea for another guest. It gave off a harsh yet sweet odor.

"Need any help?" Jeanne asked.

"Nah, I got this", Zenia answered back, as she opened a door leading to a storage room.

A few minutes later Zenia had transformed her corner into an atelier. Little cups were all over the table, with Zenia’s tea hidden somewhere in between. A canvas stand was placed next to it, of course with the canvas leaning against it. Its top half was covered in various shades of blue, while the bottom half had mostly greenish and beige colors.

Zenia was glad to finally start the actual process of painting. The days before she only did rough pencils sketches on the canvas and mixed together colors with the help of Jeanne. Jeanne really is a genius when it comes to the various uses of herbs, plants, berries, you name it. Jeanne is actually responsible for supplying Zenia with her paint. Even more the reason for her to reject monetary compensation for her work.

Since she had painted her base before, she needed to do new sketches for some of the details. Rather important details, as she had to sketch the two main characters of the piece up in the sky. It was two dragons, so that was quite the challenge. Zenia hadn’t had a chance to paint any dragons yet. Most she knew were midi-dragons as they were most commonly used for transportation, but she never got to do a full painting of one

After bringing out the canvas and putting it on a stand she pulled out a few sheets from her bag. They were sketches she did over the past few days.

When Zenia told me a few days ago that she would accompany me to my job I thought it weird. Of course, she would not sit by my desk all day, not to mention I’d move around the office a lot, and also deal with lots of sensitive information. No, in reality she wanted to come with to do sketches of the dragons at the hub. It was certainly an odd sight and I had to comfort some of the arriving guests that she wasn’t in fact a profiler or anything of the sorts.

In any case, the sketches she pulled out were those from that very day.

She spread them out on the table next to the canvas and took a good look at them. She drew a bunch of dragons from a variety of angles. The real issue was that she had to draw them mid flight. She had done a bunch of rough sketches of dragons spreading their wings, but of course she couldn’t just go and ask them to stay in that pose for a few minutes. These dragons were there to do their job.

In any case, using a pencil, she started by drawing the torso of the smaller one, leaving the wings out for now. She had to get the size right, before going on to the bigger one. The bigger dragon’s head would be as big as the smaller dragon and thus had to be much more detailed than the smaller.

She ruffled through her sketch papers, putting the ones with close-ups of dragons faces on top. Cracking her fingers, she got to work.

By the time she had finished the sketches it was about to become afternoon. While sketching the dragon’s face Zenia had realized that she’d need to do a few more sketches of the dragons faces and pattern of the scales. She did not expect painting a dragon to be this hard. Other animals were no problem at this point, but amphibians were a whole different beast. Animal isn’t animal after all.

Zenia let herself fall onto a chair. Moving her arms around a bit she did a couple stretches. Drawing also was hard work. The toll it takes on the body is underestimated by many.

Just as she finished her stretches, Zenia witnessed Jeanne putting a plate of steaming food on the table in front of her.

"I didn’t order anything?" Zenia asked in confusion.

"No, but you still need to eat. And I figured I’d just start handing you the entire menu over your next couple visits. Oh, and don’t you think it’s for free."

"Of course not. Thank you."

"You need to eat if you want to work. Take care of yourself a bit."

Just as she was about to start eating the unfamiliar rice dish, she noticed an odd figure hiding behind Jeanne and peering at the canvas.

"And who might you be?" Zenia asked as if she didn’t have a clue already.

In response the figure's wings contracted and it seemed almost like a shiver went through her horns.

"Oh, sorry about that," Jeanne replied in her stead.

"I am assuming that is the mystery girlfriend I’ve heard so much about?" Zenia asked teasingly.

"Müsteri girlfriend?" the mystery girlfriend replied with a heavy accent.

"Mystery uhhhh .... well??? Babylonia!"

Jeanne burst into a pile of awkwardness and introduced her girlfriend (subject to change).

"Mhm! Babylonia, me!" Babylonia agreed, momentarily forgetting everything she learned about the human language over the past years.

"Alright. My name is Zenia," she introduced herself.

"She is Jordan’s wife," Jeanne added, "the two met when Babylonia entered the city," she then explained to Zenia.

"Ah! Nice to meet you. And please give your husband my thanks for suggesting I take the language course. It has been such a help." Babylonia tried her best to speak as perfectly as possible, after her little blunder just now.

"Of course. So, you are still learning our language?" Zenia asked.

"Yes, I just came back from school. Say, can you tell me, what it says on here?" Babylonia asked, pointing at the canvas.

For her bigger paintings Zenia had adopted the quirk of drawing a frame onto the canvas, featuring the title of the work on the bottom.

"Oh that, that is the title of my painting. What part of it do you have trouble understanding?"

"That very first word. I’m not sure about it, I don’t think I’ve read it anywhere before?"

"Ohhh, that’s the name of my husband," Zenia exclaimed with a small chuckle.

"Ah, Jordan and the Dragon. Now I understand, thank you. Wow, I really need to get a hang of human names ..."

"Don’t worry about it, even we sometimes get them wrong," Zenia tried to console her, looking to Jeanne for approval.

"Yes, just watch me taking orders," Jeanne confirmed. "Best is to just ask the person about how their name is written or pronounced. It is kind of common courtesy."

"Hm, your name I know, Jeanne!" Babylonia exclaimed, though I don’t really know if that’s something to be proud of in particular.

"Heheh, you sure do ...," Jeanne commented. "Anyway Babi-chan, let’s leave Zenia to eat in peace now, kay?"

"Wow, you sure are a different person around your mystery girlfriend."

"Shush!"

"What does that mean, müsteri girlfriend?"

"Enjoy your meal!"

And with that, Jeanne took Babylonia and unloaded her behind the counter.

"Now then ...," Zenia took place at her table once more.

"Wow, that’s some amazing work here!"

Just as Zenia was about to take a bite of the piping hot unfamiliar rice dish, she was interrupted by a shout of excitement. She turned around to the source: A small, oddly clothed woman, like a doll, was admiring the unfinished painting on the canvas.

"Oh, um, sorry, I didn’t mean to disrupt your break."

"Oh, don’t worry about that."

"You’re painting the incident with that dragon a few days ago, aren’t you?" the woman inquired.

"I am! How did you guess?" Zenia got up from her seat and now stood next to the woman.

"Incidentally, I happened to arrive in the city just as all this transpired. And I even got to talk to Crimson the dragon and Jordan the hero!" No, I am not exaggerating. This was her actual reaction. At least according to Zenia.

"Oh, he’s my husband."

"The dragon?"

"No, the Jordan."

"I jest."

"Of course."

"In any case, you don’t happen to put your drawings up for sale?"

"I am!" Zenia tried to hide her excitement, but that was the first time anyone seemed to be calling dibs on an unfinished drawing. "In fact, I am preparing an exhibition, this here being the center piece."

"My name is Martina. Would you care to show me some of your other pieces? I don’t mean to pry into what you’re working on for the exhibition for free, but I might have a business proposal that might interest you."

At Martina’s behest Zenia led her behind the counter to the storage room. Not only did Zenia store her utensils there, her finished paintings also found a temporary home there.

"Ahhh, these are splendid," Martina looked at them one by one with growing satisfaction.

"Thank you," Zenia wasn’t sure how to properly react to her compliments. Instead, she tried to follow the scripts that have been hammered into her head as a child. She realized that planning an exhibition may go over her head. If she didn’t know how to properly react to just Martina seeing her paintings, what would it be like, if there was a room full of people in a room full of her art?

"Ooh, and what are those?" Martina asked, as she approached a bundle of papers laying on a shelf. Zenia wasn’t quite sure what she left there herself, so she also took an inquisitive look.

"Ah, of course, those are my warm-up sketches," she then explained. "I spend most of my time painting in this cafe, and as a warm-up I sketch whatever food or beverage I order. Some of them I’ve even colored for fun."

"Excellent!" Martina exclaimed once more, going through all of the sketches one by one.

"In any case, you said you had an offer to make?" Zenia couldn’t take it any longer. Having Martina go through all of her drawings like that felt as if she was being put on trial.

"Of course, right. What would you think about providing me with illustrations for my books? I’m an author, you see, and I’ve been looking for something to help upvalue my books a bit."

"Sure, but why me?"

"Well, it’s hard to find someone with such a passion and dedication for the arts. Really, your output seems unmatched. Most people can only afford to paint on the side, so I don’t think contracting them would prove to be fruitful ..."

"I understand ..."

"Also, I just so happen to be writing something about the dragon incident, and the detail of your dragon painting is simply unmatched!"

"Oh why, thank you. Well, certainly, I am intrigued ..."

"Do you plan on selling any of your paintings during your exhibition?"

"Oh I ... didn’t actually think of that. I mean, it’s worth considering."

"Well, how about during the exhibition, you reveal the dragon painting as a centerpiece and I also announce my acquisition of the painting, as well as our future partnership?"

"Woah there, lady. Don’t talk about owning something before buying it! I am considering your offer, but I’d still need some time to reconsider. And also, a proper contract would be in order."

"Well then how about we meet in another couple days, to negotiate terms? A week should give us enough time to figure out what we each want out of this partnership."

"Alright, sounds fair enough."

"I assume I’ll find you in this very establishment?"

"You assumed correctly."

"Great, until next week."

And with a firm handshake the two parted ways.

By the time Zenia returned to her table, her food had gotten cold.

That evening, when I returned from work, Zenia almost immediately fell into my arms.

"Today was exhausting," she muttered.

She told me what happened during the day later when we were both sitting in bed.

"Wow, you’re becoming a businesswoman," I commented. To get so many offers in one day ... maybe that could be me someday.

"God, that makes me so happy. And also, I feel honored to be the subject of the centerpiece of your exhibition."

"If only you knew how many sketches of you, I’ve done in secret," she teased.

I kissed her on her forehead in response, my arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Waking up and falling asleep next to her was truly the best.