Page 115 of No Charm Done

“I don’t know what that means but I hate it.” Shaw tugged at the ruffles. “Why is there so much fabric? How do I use my hands?”

At the bottom of the stairs, Scarlett and Nate were waiting. Nate took one look at Shaw and immediately pressed both hands to his mouth, his shoulders shaking. Scarlett was actually wheezing with laughter. “Oh my gods,” she managed. “Oh my gods, it’s better than I imagined⁠—”

“You’re such a jerk,” Luna said, but her eyes were smiling too.

“Yeah, baby!” Nate said in a terrible British accent. “Shagadelic, man.”

Shaw stopped on the stairs. “What?”

“Do I make you randy?” Nate continued, still in the accent. “Do I make you horny, baby?”

“Why is he talking like that?” Shaw looked between them with genuine bewilderment. “Is he having a stroke?”

“Oh, behave!” Nate said, and Scarlett leaned against the banister, giggling and sobbing at the same time.

“I’m going back upstairs,” Shaw announced.

“No!” Luna grabbed his arm. “No, you can’t. It’s fine. Really, it’s fine.”

“Elias, good morning!” Nate said, dropping the accent. “I’m sorry. We’re both sorry, it’s just—” He looked at Scarlett, who was still wheezing. “We spent hours on this.”

“Spent hours on what?”

“Choosing your outfit,” Scarlett gasped, wiping her eyes. “It’s a movie from the Nineties? About a guy from the Sixties? He gets frozen in time and⁠—”

“Oh, I see, very funny,” Shaw said, not laughing. “Time-travel humor.” He turned to Luna with an expression of profound betrayal. “Your family is insane.”

“I know,” Luna said, and gave up trying not to laugh. “I know, I’m so sorry, but you have to admit⁠—”

“I don’t have to admit anything. I hate everyone.”

“No, you don’t,” Scarlett scoffed. “You love my sister and you’re growing to love me. I am delightful.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Both can be true.” She pulled herself back to standing, still grinning. “Come on, let’s get you into the dining room before someone sees you out here and thinks we’re hosting a costume party.”

Nate opened his mouth—probably to do the accent again—and Luna quickly put her hand over it.

“Please,” she said. “I’m begging you. He’s been through enough.”

“But—”

“Enough.”

Nate’s eyes were dancing with mischief, but he nodded.

Luna pushed through the doorway. Every table in the dining room was full, Zahir weaving between them with platters of food and his signature cheerful energy. The Bloody Mary bar along the back wall looked less like a drink station and more like a banquet deconstructed into garnishes—bacon, shrimp, pickled vegetables, even chicken wings on skewers.

“Well, well, well,” Delilah called out from her seat next to Jasper. She was loud enough that several conversations stopped. “Look who finally decided to join us. Looking very fresh this morning, kids! Very rested.”

When Luna reached the table, Delilah leaped up to hug her. When she pulled back, she gazed between Luna and Shaw with an expression that was knowing and fond and ever-so-slightly smug. “You’re glowing, both of you. It’s gross.”

“We’re not⁠—”

“You are absolutely glowing.” Delilah grinned. “Go grab plates. Zahir is murdering us all with excessive amounts of breakfast foods. You don’t want to miss out.”

Aphra appeared from the crowd, moving like incense smoke. “Blessed be, you beautiful children. So happy to see nobody spontaneously combusted last night.” She turned to Elias, squeezing his shoulders. “Welcome home, traveler.”