He had made up his mind to dislike her purely based on her existence, and Theo wasn’t going to go back on that – but the commitment to it was dampened slightly by her grateful smile. Honestly, she seemed... nice. He resented her still, but regardless – nice. So he could have liked her, in other circumstances; he almost liked her in this one.

He wasn’t sure he could envision her and Cash together, though. (How they got on, what they talked about, what their days – or nights – looked like in the Wellingtonshire house they shared.)

Nor was Theo sure if he ought to trust her offer of a spell in turn. He had at least had training; he didn’t know how many practical spells for pain debutantes were usually taught, nor whether she was any good at magic. He didn’t know anything about her.

But if the dragons outside hadn’t killed him, he supposed Adrienne Lestrange probably wouldn’t either. And – if worst came to worst, she would only give him more reasons to resent her, wouldn’t she? So Theo, after that flicker of hesitation, held his arm out obediently. “Alright,” he said, wryly; and with another dash of masochism, he asked jokingly, to continue their small talk as distraction, “How is married life, anyway?”

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