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“Because he’s a dick,” the revenant grumbled.

“Because that is precisely what our mutual acquaintance here believes that he is. The hero. A knight in shining armor, riding in to save the day. To save you from the clutches of the evil villain who sits here before you.” Gideon sneered at the man across from him, returning the vindictive expression he’d been paid a few moments prior. “It’s what little punitive recompense I’m allowed for suffering his presence.”

“You’re not the only one suffering, you haughty, self-important—”

“No.” Maggie interrupted the revenant’s rant before it truly got going. “It’s too early for this. Knock it off, both of you. At least until I’ve had two cups of coffee.”

Gideon bowed his head to her. “As you wish, princess.”

“As you wish, princess,” the revenant mocked in a poor attempt at a mimic of his accent. “My god, you’re such a pathetic simp, you know that?”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what that means and enjoy my breakfast.” Gideon stabbed at his crepe a little harder than he intended to, the prongs of the fork clinking hard against the porcelain plate.

Maggie rubbed a hand over her face. Algernon climbed down her arm far enough to jump from her to the table and began nosing at her plate. She chuckled, and, pulling off a piece of the thin dough, handed it to the little rat.

There was a contentment in her features when she interacted with the minion that Gideon had rarely seen. “I generally don’t allow pets on the kitchen table, but seeing as our dear Hero is here, I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to discriminate against Algernon.”

“All right. Seriously. Both of you, knock it off.” She leaned over to kiss Harry on the cheek. “I mean it.”

Gideon’s jealousy surged again, but he kept it buried as best he could. He decided to eke out his revenge another way. “Where would you like to go for dinner, Maggie?” Her nickname still felt odd on his tongue, but he would adjust.

She shrugged. “Not sure. How about we just walk around for a while and find a place?”

“Sounds like a great plan,” the revenant interjected.

“No, Hero,” he shot back. “It is to be just Ms. Valard and me. You are not invited.”

“Valard?” He arched an eyebrow then looked to Marguerite. “He told you your last name? And did you agree to this dinner with him?”

“No, the vampire I set free out of the basement of the Vatican did.” She took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. “And yeah, it was my idea.”

“Mags,” the disappointment was thick in the other man’s voice, “you—you can’t get suckered in by his nice-guy routine. He—”

That clearly annoyed her. It was the hero’s turn to be leveled by one of her cold, cruel stares. The woman may not have been born into the succession, but Gideon had never seen anyone more destined to be a queen than Marguerite Valard.

The revenant stammered to a stop. Smart boy. Gideon smirked into his coffee.

“I am not getting suckered into anything, Harry. If I want to go out to dinner with him to talk in private, I’m going to go out to dinner with him to talk in private. It was my idea, not his.”

“Sorry.” The revenant’s shoulders slumped.

Gideon let the awkward silence reign for a moment before he smiled cheerfully at her. “I think going for a walk and letting fate decide where we dine is a phenomenal idea.” He was looking forward to it. He hoped he could keep his foot out of his mouth long enough for them to have an enjoyable evening, but he didn’t have the best track record.

Marguerite paused for a long moment, swirling what remained of her coffee in her mug. “Can I ask a question?” When neither of them responded to the contrary, she kept talking. “I know why you keep Harry around, Gideon. But why do you stick near him?” She looked up at her friend. “Are you forced to stay? Are you enslaved to him?”

“No, he isn’t,” Gideon answered for him. “He could leave my side if he chose to. He prefers to be a pain in my ass.”

“Why?” Marguerite asked the other man.

The revenant tapped his fingers on the table nervously. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair then shook his head. “I can’t do this shit. I can’t sit here like everything’s okay.” He stood and stormed out the back door of the house into the small yard, scratching his head with both hands.

She watched him go with a frown. “I should talk to him.”

“Give him a moment. Best that he cools his temper first.”

“What did I say?”

He smiled sympathetically. “You asked a question he doesn’t know how to answer. Because if he did, it puts you at risk. He isn’t as used to this situation as I am.”