Page 204 of Evermore

She had me there. “Temporary tactical defeat. The battle for household organization continues.”

She grabbed a pair of slippers from beneath the bed and slipped them on. “A battle you’ll never win. Accept defeat gracefully, Husband.”

“Never.” I offered her my arm with exaggerated formality. “But I’ll call a temporary truce for dinner. Quill will be unbearable if we’re late again.”

“She gets that from you, you know. The punctuality obsession.”

“From me? I think not.”

“She alphabetized her journals, Thorne. She lines up her boots in perfect pairs.” Paesha linked her arm through mine as we moved toward the door. “She is your miniature in every way that matters and it’s honestly frustrating to live with Thorne Noctus and Thorne Noctus Junior with a side of Minerva, a dash of Thea’s optimism and Tuck’s know-it-all bullshit.”

I couldn’t quite suppress my smile at that. Quill had indeed grown into a fascinating blend of all of us, Paesha’s fierce independence, my appreciation for order, Tuck’s love of knowledge, Minerva’s dry wit, and always, always, echoes ofArcher in her laugh, in the way she could charm anyone with a single smile. She knew her power and wielded it flawlessly.

“She’s perfect,” I said simply.

“She’d be insufferable if she heard you say that.”

“As opposed to her mother, who accepts compliments with such grace and humility?”

Paesha elbowed me in the ribs, hard enough to make me grunt. “I am the epitome of grace, thank you very much.”

“Says the woman who threw a boot at my head last week.”

“You ducked. Plus, you deserved it. You reorganized my closet.”

“I improved your closet. Now you can actually find things.”

“I knew exactly where everything was before. Huntress, remember?”

“In piles on the floor?”

“Strategic piles. With a system.”

“Chaos is not a system.”

“Agree to disagree.”

We continued our bickering as we made our way through the halls of what had once been the Syndicate house and was now simply home. The building had expanded over the years to accommodate our growing family—not just us and Quill, but Tuck’s extensive library, Minerva’s mysterious workroom that no one was allowed to enter, Thea’s constantly evolving workshop filled with half-finished inventions, and rooms always ready for Elowen’s frequent visitors. We had the castle too, of course. But this was our escape. Our happy place.

The dining room hummed with familiar chaos as we entered. Quill, tall and elegant now at nineteen, was engaged in an animated debate with Tuck about some obscure historical text. Minerva watched them, occasionally interjecting a comment that sent them both sputtering. Thea was showing Elowen her latest creation, something with gears that whirred alarmingly.

“You’re late,” Quill announced without looking up from her argument.

“Blame her,” I said, pulling out Paesha’s chair. “She stole my quill and then decided to have a philosophical discussion about the nature of personal property.”

“I did no such thing. I was explaining the concept of communal ownership to someone who still struggles with sharing. What’s his is also mine.”

“I share. When asked. Politely. In advance. After mulling.”

Tuck snorted into his wine. “You once threatened to remove my memories because I borrowed your favorite cloak.”

“It was raining, and you returned it with mud stains.”

“It was a black cloak! You couldn’t even see the mud!”

“I could sense the mud.”

The table erupted into laughter, a sound that still, after all these years, caused something in my chest to tighten with gratitude. As we ate, I found my gaze repeatedly drawn to Paesha. She was in her element here, surrounded by those she loved, her face animated as she recounted her latest project to rebuild something in Stirling that’d been lost to a storm. The candlelight caught in her hair, turning the dark strands to burnished copper. Her hands moved as she spoke, painting pictures with the same grace she’d once used to dance across stages.