Nick fixes Evan with a mock glare from where he’s leaning on the balcony railing. “Quit harassing my Page, Ev.”

Evan backs away, hands up. “Of course, my liege.”

Nick groans. “Yeah, you can stop with that ‘my liege’ crap anytime you want. Come on up, Bree. Evan, stay put.”

Evan closes the door with a loud laugh that echoes around the foyer.

Nick is waiting for me at the top of the stairs, and I absolutely blame Alice Chen for where my brain goes as I walk up to meet him, because all I can think is that he looks like a rom-com daydream come to life. His hands are stuffed in a pair of dark-wash jeans, and he’s wearing a blue Henley that brings out his eyes. Eyes that roam over me, too, with a soft, unreadable expression.

When I reach the landing, he tilts his head to the left. “This way.”

While the exterior is a castle and first floor interior a manor, the second floor, soaked in reds and browns and yellows, is truly the source for the Lodge’s name. Restored pine floors hold notches and whorls from the original trees, and the heavy brocade fabric lining the walls in between the doors makes the floor feel warm and residential. Someone’s music is bumping loud enough to make the sconces shake.

A door opens and Felicity and Russ emerge, their quiet giggles filling the hall. When the pair notices us approaching, Felicity’s face flushes to match her hair.

“Oh! H-hi!” She waves with one hand while batting at a clingy Russ with the other. She looks adorably flustered, while Russ is openly beaming. I don’t know whether to feel sympathy or laugh.

Nick doesn’t miss a beat. “Felicity, how are you feeling?”

Russ leans in, nuzzling her neck. “Yeah, Flick, how are you feelin’?”

Her eyes grow wide as saucers and she shoves him away—a bit too hard. He flies back so high he hangs suspended in the air for a second before landing in a crouch on the other side of the hall.

While she gasps in horror and apologizes, Russ laughs uncontrollably, barely managing a response. “That enough answer for you, Nick?”

“I can answer for myself, thank you!” Felicity marches up to us with as much dignity as she can muster. “I’m fine, Nick, thank you for asking. Just not”—she glances back at her Squire, who’s on his feet with a wide grin—“totally used to the strength yet.”

“Me neither,” Russ calls, striding over to us.

“And Lamorak had a temper, we’ve discovered,” Felicity adds. “Not my favorite inheritance in the world.”

“Are y’all okay?” Nick raises a brow. “Not fighting each other, are you?”

“No.” Felicity blushes. “Not exactly…”

Nick opens his mouth, sees Russ’s barely suppressed laughter, and his cheeks tinge pink. “We’ll see you downstairs for dinner.”