Four: Mrs. Whitworth had allowed us to take a few days off classes. When we came back, Elle, much to Miss Pepperman’s delight, started reading out loud in class because if I can survive a fucking kidnapping, I can survive pronouncing a few words wrong.

Five: Elle had pushed our beds together so they formed one queen-sized bed. Its pros: we could now sleep in one bed at night without having to worry about falling off the mattress. Its cons: getting out of bed was a challenge that neither of us felt like facing most of the time, resulting in both of us lying around doing nothing except kissing and talking and kissing some more.

The sixth change came in the form of the little head presently bumping against my cheek to wake me up. Blinking my eyes open, I was met with the curious gaze of the pitch-black kitten that was perched on the mattress next to me.

Cookie was a few months old and from the same pet shelter from which Mrs. Whitworth had adopted Muffin. It had taken some begging on my part, but after a few days, I convinced her that another cat in the castle surely wouldn’t make a big difference and that the tiny kitten could serve as not only an early birthday present but also a therapy animal for Elle.

Scratching at Cookie’s fur, I wasn’t sure what was more adorable: her or Elle, who was lying next to me with her face nuzzled into the crook of my neck. After a glance at my phone that told me it was past noon already, I reached a hand out to lightly caress her cheek and whispered, “Elle. Wake up.”

The only reply was some incoherent muttering that was muffled against my neck.

Accepting that that approach wouldn’t work, I lifted Cookie and gently set her down on Elle’s stomach. As expected, the kitten gave a small meow and pawed at Elle’s hand, prompting her to crack open an eye. “You two,” she murmured, voice still hoarse from sleep, “Always conspiring against me.”

I smiled back at her. “You love us.”

She only hummed and stretched a little, not unlike the cat huddled between us.

“We should get up,” I said, poking her cheek. “The Winter Banquet is today.”

“And?”

“You wouldn’t want to miss out on all the food, do you? Just think of all the cakes and desserts . . .”

One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Good argument, but you’re gonna have to bring a bit more to the table than that, Greene. As far as I’m concerned, the sweetest thing in this entire castle is lying right next to me.”

Immediately, I felt my cheeks heating up. A few months ago, I hadn’t understood the women in the novels who would blush and faint at the slightest sign of affection. Now, after having experienced Elle’s flirting firsthand, I sometimes felt like I was in need of some smelling salts as well.