Mandy took a careful sip of her magically heated tea, savoring the perfect temperature and enhanced flavors. Her mind still reeled at the fact that she had done this - actually performed magic.
"Once you've mastered temperature control," Kieran said, his deep voice carrying that same teaching tone, "you'll learn to conjure the tea itself from nothing."
She nearly dropped her cup. "Wait, really? I can just... make tea appear?"
"Indeed." His silver-blue eyes held that spark of amusement again. "Though with children, we start them practicing with plain water or milk first. Less chance of scalding themselves while learning control."
The mental image of tiny Djinn children practicing their magic made Mandy smile. She pictured them concentrating fiercely on cups of water, their little faces scrunched up in determination. Then another thought struck her.
"Is that how Aaliyah created this whole breakfast spread?" She gestured at the remaining dishes on the table. "Just... conjured it all?"
"No, actually. Most Djinn are excellent cooks, and we enjoy preparing meals the traditional way." His lips curved slightly. "Magic can replicate food, but it never quite matches the quality of something made with skill and care."
"It takes far more magical energy to conjure a meal than to simply cook it," Kieran said, his deep voice carrying that teaching tone again. "Though the magic is quite useful for preparation work and cleaning afterward."
Mandy tried to picture Kieran, this ancient and powerful Djinn prince, doing something as mundane as kitchen cleanup. The image of him in his formal robes, waving those elegant hands to make dirty dishes disappear, made her giggle.
"Something amuses you?" One black eyebrow arched upward as his silver-blue eyes met hers.
"Sorry, I just..." She pressed her lips together, trying to contain her mirth. "The thought of you doing kitchen cleanup. It seems so... ordinary."
His lips curved slightly at her continued amusement, softening his stern features. "Even Djinn must eat, Amanda. And someone must clean up afterward."
Mandy's gaze flew to his face, startled by the sound of her name on his lips. He so rarely used it - usually speaking without direct address in that formal way of his. The intimate sound of "Amanda" in his deep voice sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. No one had called her Amanda for… well, ever.
His silver-blue eyes met hers, and something flickered in their depths as if he sensed her reaction, a subtle shift that hinted at a growing warmth in his gaze. Without breaking eye contact, Kieran rose from his seat in one fluid motion, his movements smooth and deliberate.
His hand, slender and elegant, extended toward her, and she remembered how those same fingers had gripped her arms when he kissed her—strong yet gentle. Heat bloomed across her cheeks at the memory. The morning light caught the silver embroidery at his cuffs, making the intricate patterns shimmer against the deep blue fabric. But it was his eyes that held her—those silver-blue depths carrying an intensity that made her pulse quicken, a silent acknowledgment that he, too, felt the charged energy between them
As she placed her hand in his, the contact sent warmth spreading up her arm, igniting a spark of magic that pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. It was as if the world around them faded, revealing an unspoken acknowledgment of something more - a magnetic pull that transcended beyond mere magic, blossoming into something deeper.
"Would you like me to take you to your apartment now?" His voice carried that same gentleness from earlier. "So you can call Sabrina?"
Sabrina! Mandy forced herself to focus on the immediate concern - her daughter would be worried if she didn't check in soon.
Suddenly the ornate breakfast alcove blurred around her, colors and shapes melting together like watercolors in the rain. Her stomach swooped as reality shifted, and suddenly she stood in her familiar living room. The contrast between the magical realm and her modest apartment struck her - gone were the soaring marble arches and intricate tapestries, replaced by her comfortable but ordinary furnishings. Her cats' climbing tree still dominated one corner, and her latest manuscript lay scattered across the coffee table exactly as she'd left it.
Kieran's hand still held hers, his touch anchoring her as she adjusted to the abrupt transition between worlds. The morning sunlight streaming through her windows seemed somehow dimmer than the brilliant light of Qaf, though the desert heat remained just as intense.
Mozart and Bach materialized as well, trotting over to wind around her ankles with happy chirps. She smiled down at them, grateful for their grounding presence in this surreal moment.
His fingers slipped from hers as he stepped back. "Call for me when you're ready, and I will return," he said, his deep voice gentle. "We have much to discuss."
Panic seized Mandy's chest, squeezing her lungs in a grip that felt too familiar. If he left, would all of this vanish like morning mist? Would she wake gasping in that hospital bed, struggling for every breath?
"Wait!" Her hand shot out, grabbing his sleeve before he could disappear. The black fabric felt solid under her fingers, the silver embroidery catching the sunlight. "Are you sure… this is real? That I won't wake up back there once you are gone, in the hospital, fighting for every breath?"
His silver-blue eyes softened as he covered her trembling hand with his. "Look at your palm," he murmured.
Mandy held out her free hand, palm up. At her silent call, a tiny blue flame flickered to life, dancing with the same ethereal beauty she'd witnessed in Qaf. The warmth spread through her fingers, real and undeniable.
"You are Djinn now," Kieran said softly. "This is no dream."
The panic eased its grip on her chest as she watched her flame twirl and spin. She could feel its connection to her core, a part of her being that hadn't existed before but now felt as natural as breathing.
Her heart swelled with gratitude as she looked up at Kieran, his tall form seeming to fill her modest living room with an otherworldly presence. The morning sunlight caught his silver-white hair, making it gleam against the dark blue of his formal robes.
"Thank you," she whispered, meaning it for so much more than just his reassurance. For saving her life, for giving her this incredible gift, for his patience as she struggled to process everything.
