That earned him a genuine laugh from Maude. “You two are exhausting.”
“Admit it,” Oli said smugly. “You’d be bored without us.”
“Wrong. I’d be thriving. My skin would glow. Flowers would bloom in my footsteps.”
Selene threw her head back, giggling. “I’d pay to see that.”
Maude stabbed another potato chunk. “Anyway. He doesn’t want me as a friend. Trust me.”
Oli’s grin went sharklike. “I don’t know. From the way he was looking at you last week…”
Her spoon clattered into the bowl. She nearly slammed her mug down for emphasis. “That’s ridiculous. He’s…I’m… We’d drive each other insane.”
Selene leaned her chin on her hand, her smile soft. “Or maybe you’d balance each other. Light and dark aren’t enemies, Maude. Sometimes they’re just halves of the same day.”
The words clung, stubborn as burrs, snagging places she didn’t want to admit were tender. And then, mercifully, Oli ruined everything.
“Or,” he said cheerfully, “you’d just have really enthusiastic hate sex and terrify the neighborhood.”
Maude sputtered, cider spraying across the table. Selene shrieked, shoving her chair back as the splash hit her, then hurled a bread roll at Oli’s head. “You’re disgusting.”
“I’m a visionary,” Oli corrected, tearing the bread in half and eating it like he’d achieved victory.
“If I hex you right now, no jury would convict me.”
Selene, still blotting cider off her sleeve, muttered, “Do it, Maude. Make it itch.”
Oli only grinned wider, crumbs on his lips. “See? This is why I keep you both around—your dark, homicidal tendencies, my sparkling charm. Perfect harmony.”
Maude rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. But under the table, her boot tapped against Selene’s in silent agreement: someday, they really were going to hex him.
They staggered back through the streets later, Selene hiccupping with laughter every few steps, her braid coming loose and bouncing wildly against her shoulder. Oli had taken up humming a scandalous ballad about sailors and nymphs, his voice far too loud for the hour. A shutter cracked open above them, and a poor townsman shouted for quiet. Oli only blew him a kiss and kept singing scandalously louder.
“Do you know the second verse?” Selene giggled, tripping over the curb.
“Do I know it? Darling, I wrote the second verse. And possibly the third, depending on which edition you’ve heard.”
“Tragic,” Maude muttered, steadying Selene by the elbow as she tried to veer into a hedge. “Truly, your legacy will outlive us all.”
“Yes, worship me appropriately.”
Oli’s manor rose ahead, bathed in moonlight, all ivy-draped stone and sweeping gables, every window glowing warm and golden like an invitation. A place that screamedwealthbut also, annoyingly,comfort.
Maude had always hated how the two could coexist so easily here.
Inside, they clambered up the wide stairs, boots clunking, laughter bouncing off polished wood and oil paintings of solemn ancestors who would no doubt be appalled by what their descendant was doing with his fortune.
And then there it was: the bed. Oli’s absurdly massive bed, sprawling across half the chamber like a ship at sea. The carved headboard was inlaid with silver leaves; the quilt was stitched in rich jewel tones. It looked like something stolen from a queen’s summer palace.
Maude dropped onto it without hesitation. The mattress dipped beneath her with a luxurious sigh. “Tell me you changed the sheets since your last lover.”
Oli, peeling off his jacket with exaggerated dignity, gasped like she’d accused him of murder. “Of course. I have standards.”
“Barely,” Selene snorted, crawling across the bed to burrow under the blankets.
“I’ll have you know,” Oli said, flopping down beside them, “these sheets are imported. Enchanted by elves to stay crispandcool.” He waggled his brows. “Perfect for company.”
“Ew,” Selene groaned, pulling the blanket over her head.
