Magnus took the book, with less enthusiasm than I’d ever seen him handle music. “You’ll have to give me a moment to figure it out.”

“Oh, it’ll be so easy for you,” Kelela insisted, pulling on his arm to make him stand. “You’re the most talented musician I know.”

“I’m the only musician you know,” he said, but followed her without a fuss.

Regardless of what Esjay said about France, they were promised to each other. They would be getting married, probably as soon as the castle was cleansed. I needed to calm down. Soothe my racing heart. Behave like an employee, a friend, even, but nothing more.

Because Magnus would never—could never—be anything more to me than that.

So that was it. I would focus on my work, on making money, on earning my patronage. No more spending time with Magnus, no more emotional involvement. Besides, it was a poor survival habit, loving people. I was far better off on my own.

As soon as they were settled at the instrument, the first few notes ringing from it, I left as quietly as I could and headed down the dark hall. I’d barely gotten to the stairs before I heard him call my name, followed by the sound of footsteps—and bells—pursuing me.

“You said you would stay,” he said as he followed me down the hall.

My heart ached from sprinting so hard in my chest. “I thought you’d want time alone with Kelela.”

I quickened my pace when I reached the stairs, but Magnus stepped in front of me.

“I asked you to stay.”

And I wanted to. So badly. But how could I? So, instead I said, “Congratulations on your engagement.”

He froze. I wanted him to deny it, to ask me what I was talking about. Instead he just looked guilty.

I took the opportunity to get around him and rush up the stairs.

But still, those bells pursued me. “What did Esjay tell you?”

“You sound shocked,” I said bitterly. “Why, was I not supposed to know about it?”

“It’s not what you think—”

“Yesterday you said you wanted to be with me, and today I find out you’re engaged. It’s exactly what I think.”

I grabbed the doorknob to my room, but his hand was suddenly on top of mine, keeping the knob from twisting, pulling back as I pushed forward. His other hand rested on the doorjamb to keep himself steady. He was actually as strong as his height suggested when he put his mind to it.

“It was a verbal agreement I made when I was fourteen,” he said. “A fancy, really. I was young. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

“Esjay seems to think it’s legitimate.”

“Esjay never minds his own business.”

“That’s because his business is minding yours.”