I couldn’t remember what had been said afterward in that previous conversation, so we paused there while I tightened my lips against a smile. I was enjoying this exchange a little too much. I turned back to face the—what had he called it? Hopsicar?—running my finger along its decorations. “Thank you for my creams and oils,” I said, changing the subject to something that made me feel less … giddy.

“Thank Saba, she’s the one who knows about those things.” He looked down at me. “Now, would you please turn my pages?”

I smiled. The warmth of his body sent overwhelmingly sweet tickles through mine, even through my sweater. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

He reached down and grabbed his book from the floor, opening it up to a song, bending it back to break the spine a bit. “Do you read?”

“Music? No. Jember taught me hymns orally.”

“Then I’ll nod when I’m ready, shall I?”

I nodded in response, leaning forward in preparation.

And he began.

This one was like oil pouring on the floor—slow, flowing, but somehow unpredictably messy. Not his playing, but the melody. The meaning of it. Like a romance in the midst of turmoil.

“I’m in the way,” I said, as his warm arm brushed past me for a high note.

“You’re never in the way,” Magnus said, and somehow it felt like more than the truth.

He nodded and my heart skittered, as stupid as that seemed, not resuming a steadier pace until I’d successfully turned the page and listened to him continue without a hitch.

“Is page turning always this stressful?”

Magnus laughed, missing a few notes. He was getting better at laughing, I think. It sounded more natural. “Why do you think I get someone else to do it?”

“Evil Eye Manifestations are much easier.”

“For you, definitely. You’ve done the most cleansing out of any of the other debtera.”

I started to turn the page, but Magnus made a tut-ing sound at me, like shooing a cat off the table. “You nodded!” I said.

“The other way, it’s a repeat.”

“What’s a repeat?”

“Back to the beginning!”

My arm shot to the other page to turn it, but I yanked too fast and the book toppled off onto the keys. Magnus jerked his hands out of the way and laughed. Not in malice or sarcasm, but an adorably genuine one, like a little boy hearing the greatest joke ever. And it was catching, his laughter igniting mine.

I think … I could’ve survived on that laugh alone, if surviving in this world didn’t require money.

I shoved him in the arm. “I told you I don’t read music.”