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  What was the harm in trying? Everything would go back to normal by morning.

  
  A surrealist swirl of ethereal yellow bergamot, white pomegranate rind, lemon peel, and white musk.

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  Lemon Peel, Frankincense, and Mastic Perfume Oil

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  Take the Moon Perfume Oil

  She held his hand, with a hand that was icy cold. “You were given protection once. You were given the sun itself. But you lost it already. You gave it away. All I can give you is much weaker protection. The daughter, not the father. But all helps. Yes?” Her white hair blew about her face in the chilly wind.

  “Do I have to fight you? Or play checkers?” he asked.

  “You do not even have to kiss me,” she told him. “Just take the moon from me.”

  “How?”

  “Take the moon.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Watch,” said Zorya Polunochnaya. She raised her left hand and held it in front of the moon, so that her forefinger and thumb seemed to be grasping it. Then, in one smooth movement, she plucked at it. For a moment, it looked like she had taken the moon from the sky, but then Shadow saw that the moon shone still, and Zorya Polunochnaya opened her hand to display a silver Liberty-head dollar resting between finger and thumb.

  “That was beautifully done,” said Shadow. “I didn’t see you palm it. And I don’t know how you did that last bit.”

  “I did not palm it,” she said. “I took it. And now I give it you, to keep safe. Here. Don’t give this one away.”

  Silvered musk and lemon peel, white fir needle, frosted apple blossom, and mugwort.

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  Bess Perfume Oil

  I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
  I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
  I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
  I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
  I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
  Since from myself another self I turned.
  My care is like my shadow in the sun,
  Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
  Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
  His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
  No means I find to rid him from my breast,
  Till by the end of things it be supprest.
  Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
  For I am soft and made of melting snow;
  Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
  Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
  Or let me live with some more sweet content,
  Or die and so forget what love ere meant.

  Inspired by the tragic, ill-fated love of Queen Elizabeth I and the Earl of Leicester. This is our modernization of a 17th-century perfume blend favored by British aristocracy: rosemary, orange flower, grape spirit, five rose variants, lemon peel, and mint.

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page