“You think so?” He paused and looked down, wiggling his toes in his socks. “I was … a little panicked … when I saw you were gone. I thought you had left forever. I wonder if the others left because they couldn’t handle me, as well.”

“I can handle you, Magnus, even at your worst,” I said, taking a step closer. At my movement he met my gaze again, his eyes full of hope, and something steady and pleasing like contentment. “But that doesn’t mean you can get away with being a brat all the time. You’re a good person, I know. It would just be nice if you’d show it sometimes.”

“I can be good. Can I get you anything?”

“Was that a genuine question?”

He looked at me as if I had to have been joking. “Yes. I want to guarantee you never leave me again.”

I smirked. “That would’ve almost been nice if it wasn’t so self-serving.”

“You’re irreplaceable, Andromeda, I hope you know that.”

“Tell me, and I’ll know.”

Magnus paused, as if shocked that I would make such a demand. “You’re irreplaceable.” He dropped his gaze suddenly, rubbing at his face and scowling at his feet. “But I’m still paying you to do a job. So no more taking off.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hearing you say ‘sir’ drains the life from me. You will kill me before old age does.”

“Magnus,” I corrected.

“Yes?”

I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing.

He opened his mouth to speak, then just cleared his throat instead. Then, after a moment, “Did you miss me, at least?”

I could feel my heart pounding in my throat. It was strange, to feel pleased and nauseated at the same time. “Not particularly.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Vicious girl. After all my efforts to be nice to you.”

“What efforts?”

“I said you’re irreplaceable, didn’t I? Not to mention I inconvenienced myself to walk down the hall and put on trousers.”

“You’re my employer, you should be wearing them in the first place.”

“I mean—” He paused, a sheepish blush spreading across his cheeks. He picked up my bottle of tej, twisting the neck in his hands. “Yes, you’re right. As Esjay says, we wouldn’t want a lawsuit.”

His reaction was … adorable. But admitting that, I could feel my own blush flaring up, so I quickly buried the word somewhere to keep myself under control. “You mean pantlessness is an ongoing problem for you?”

“One other time is not ‘ongoing.’” He uncorked the bottle, recoiling before it’d even made it to his lips. “Oh God! This orange juice has gone rancid.”

“It’s honey wine,” I said, taking the bottle from him and cradling it close. He coughed, then dry heaved like a cat with a hairball. I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you get for not asking before taking a sip.”