The apartment settled around them.
Outside, Willowwick’s evening bells rang.
For the first time all day, nobody spoke.
Then the kitchen cabinet opened by itself.
Two plates floated out.
A candle lit.
Soft music began playing from nowhere.
Clara closed her eyes.
“No.”
Adrian looked around.
“What is happening?”
“The apartment is helping.”
“With what?”
“Domestic atmosphere.”
“I don’t want domestic atmosphere.”
The candle flame shaped itself into a heart.
Clara pointed at it.
“Stop.”
The heart grew larger.
Adrian stared at the flame.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
It was quiet.
Short.
But real.
Clara looked at him.
He looked back.
“What?”
“You laugh.”
“So do most people.”
“I wasn’t sure.”
His mouth twitched.
Something warm moved unexpectedly through her chest.
She immediately drank more wine.
Day Two began with coffee attacking Adrian.
Clara woke to a shout downstairs.
She ran into the kitchen.
Adrian stood beside the counter, soaked from chest to waist.
The coffee pot hovered nearby.
Clara covered her mouth.
He looked furious.
“Don’t.”
She failed.
She laughed so hard she had to hold the doorway.
Adrian grabbed a towel.
“What did I do?”
“You probably insulted it.”
“I asked for black coffee.”
“That’ll do it.”
“It threw itself at me.”
“She.”
“It is a pot.”
“She’s sensitive.”
Adrian stared at the coffee pot.
It hissed.
Clara took it gently.
“It’s okay, Mabel.”
Adrian stopped.
“You named it.”
“My mother did.”
That changed something.
His irritation softened.
Clara noticed.
She poured coffee into a mug.
Mabel behaved.
Clara handed it to him.
“Try again.”
Adrian accepted it.
“Thank you.”
Mabel purred.
He stared.
Clara smiled.
“You’re learning.”
By nine, they were downstairs.
The inspection resumed.
Except now everyone in Willowwick knew.
Clara could tell because the shop had more customers before noon than it usually got all Monday.
No one bought much.
They simply wandered through, stared at Adrian, and whispered.
Mrs. Peabody returned twice.
The mayor stopped in to purchase one peppermint.
Clara’s best friend, Ivy, arrived carrying pastries and an expression of unfiltered delight.
Ivy ran the flower shop next door.
She had curly red hair, three ear piercings, and no respect for privacy.
“You married the auditor.”
“I accidentally married the auditor.”
Ivy looked at Adrian.
“Is he staying upstairs?”
Clara lowered her voice.
“Yes.”
Ivy grabbed her arms.
“Clara.”
“Don’t.”
“Clara.”
“Nothing is happening.”
“Yet.”
Clara shoved a pastry into her mouth.
Across the room, Adrian inspected a shelf.
Ivy chewed.
Then whispered, “He’s extremely attractive.”
“Government-issued.”
“That is not how attractiveness works.”
“He’s terrible.”
“He just fixed your floating sign.”
Clara looked.
The OPEN sign, which had been upside down since April, now hung correctly.
Adrian stepped back.
Clara frowned.
“He probably cited it first.”
“He didn’t.”
“Traitor.”
Ivy leaned closer.
“Do you know anything about him?”
“No.”
“You’re married.”
“For twenty-four hours.”
“Longer than your relationship with Trevor should have lasted.”
“Leave.”
Ivy hugged her.
Then looked toward Adrian.
“Take care of her.”
Clara froze.
Adrian looked surprised.
Then serious.
“I will.”
Ivy smiled.
Clara’s heart did something stupid.
After Ivy left, Clara approached him.
“You didn’t have to say that.”
“What?”
“That you’d take care of me.”
“I meant during the bond.”
“Right.”
“Magical backlash can be dangerous.”
“Of course.”
Something inside her sank.
Which was ridiculous.
She didn’t want romance.
She wanted her license.
And her apartment.
And an auditor-free existence.
By afternoon, Adrian had created a list.
Clara hated lists.
This list was six pages long.
He placed it on the counter.
“Twenty-one violations.”
“I preferred ignorance.”
“Most can be corrected within five days.”
“Most?”
“Three require permits.”
“Which take how long?”
“Normally three weeks.”
Clara stared.
“Then I’m done.”
“No.”
She looked up.
Adrian pointed to the forms.
“I can request emergency review.”
“You can?”
“Yes.”
“Will you?”
He met her eyes.
“I said the violations were correctable.”
Clara studied him.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why help me?”
“It’s my job.”
“No. Your job is inspection.”
He didn’t answer.
Clara waited.
Finally Adrian said, “Regulations are supposed to protect people, not destroy them over paperwork.”
She stared.
“That sounds suspiciously reasonable.”
“I’ll try not to repeat it.”
She smiled.
This time fully.
He looked at her smile for half a second too long.
Then returned to his forms.
That evening, they attended their first compatibility evaluation.
The assessor was a witch named Penelope Frost who looked twenty-five and claimed to be one hundred and twelve.
She sat across from them inside a room filled with floating silver lights.
“Question one,” Penelope said. “What is your partner’s greatest fear?”
Clara raised her hand.
“Spontaneity.”
Adrian said, “Irresponsibility.”
Penelope wrote.
“Those are insults, not fears.”
“They overlap,” Clara said.
Penelope looked at Adrian.
“Try again.”
He looked at Clara.
Long enough that her smile faded.
“Losing the shop.”
Clara stopped.
Penelope turned to her.
“Correct?”
Clara swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Your turn.”
Clara studied Adrian.
She knew almost nothing about him.
He liked order.
Black coffee.
Wine.
He came from an important magical family.
He hadn’t dated in four years, according to a cat who considered boundaries fictional.
Then she remembered Mrs. Peabody saying his grandmother’s name.
And Adrian’s face.
Not pride.
Tension.
Clara spoke slowly.
“Disappointing people.”
Adrian’s gaze sharpened.
Penelope smiled.
“Correct?”
He was quiet.
“Yes.”
Clara looked at him.
For the first time, Adrian looked away first.
The evaluation got worse.
Or better.
Depending on perspective.
They had to hold hands while a truth crystal measured emotional synchronization.
The crystal turned bright pink.
Penelope looked impressed.
Clara blamed magical interference.
Adrian said nothing.
Then they were asked to identify each other’s emotional state.
Clara guessed Adrian correctly four times.