“How can you stay so positive? Your parents sold you off like produce. The man who raised you was abusive. Are you sure you don’t need to let off a little steam? It’s just us, Andromeda. You don’t have to pretend you’re fine with the people who have hurt you.”

“I can’t change those things. What should I be doing, complaining about them?”

“That’s what I would do.”

“Jember taught me to live by good survival habits. One of mine is well-placed optimism. If I look at all the bad in my life along with the good, the bad would bury the good in a landslide. My spirit, my will to live, would shrivel and die. So, instead, I choose to be thankful for what little good I have. And I choose to hope.”

We didn’t speak for a moment.

“I’ve noticed…” He rubbed his face, as if what he was about to say was stressful. “You’re very stiff when we touch. Another good survival habit?”

“I didn’t realize I was stiff.”

“Well…” He grinned slightly. “Not when we kiss.”

I suddenly became interested in a small scratch on the arm of the chair, hoping the firelight would hide my blush. He’d said it as if he intended to kiss me right this minute. And, God help me, I wanted to taste his lips more than anything.

Magnus leaned in my direction, his arm on the small table between us. “If you need me to fight Jember, I will.”

I smirked slightly. “He’d definitely kill you. He has no morals when it comes to a fight.”

“He’s a cad who denied you basic human affection, so it’s worth a try.”

“Affection isn’t so important when you’ve lived your entire life without it,” I said, finally having the stomach to look at him. “And you don’t know him, so you don’t get to call him names. He raised me. I turned out fine. So, keep your mouth shut about him.”

He raised a sly eyebrow at me. “What’ll you give me to keep my mouth shut?”

I felt a vein twitching in my temple. “I’m already cleansing your castle. I don’t owe you anything else.”

“It’ll have to be something on top of that, since I’m also already paying you to cleanse my castle.”

“I’m tempted to punch you in the face. I can simply not.”

I straightened my posture the longer he looked at me. There were two chair arms and a table between us, but somehow I felt too close. I should’ve stood. I should’ve left. Not because I was afraid, but … my God. Why was I trembling like this? This was not what I’d expected at all. “Don’t look at me with those sinful eyes,” I said, as coldly as I could manage.