The idea took root, growing stronger by the second. "There must be so many things they need help with - enrolling kids in school, finding doctors, learning to navigate the grocery stores." She remembered her own culture shock in Cairo, how overwhelming even simple tasks had felt at first. "Just having someone to talk to who understands both worlds would make such a difference. And, I'd get to practice my Arabic again!""
A slight smile played across Kieran's face, warming those glacier-blue eyes. "You enjoy helping others, don't you?"
"Well, you don't have to say it like that." Mandy shifted in her chair, suddenly self-conscious. "Like it's some kind of accusation."
"Not at all." Kieran's voice held a note of amusement. "You began searching for a way to help yourself regain your language skills - and immediately transformed it into a means of helping others."
Heat crept up Mandy's neck and into her cheeks. "I... hadn't thought of it that way."
"I know." Kieran's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "That is precisely my point. It was instinctive for you."
Mozart chose that moment to stretch luxuriously across Kieran's boots, completely unimpressed by the profound conversation happening above him. The sight of her normally aloof cat making himself at home on the Djinn prince's feet made Mandy want to giggle.
Mandy suddenly realized she'd been rude, and blushed fiercely. "Please, won't you sit?" She gestured to the armchair opposite her, the one he'd occupied the day before.
Kieran carefully dislodged Mozart and sat across from her. He gestured toward the delicate table, where elegant crystal glasses of steaming tea waited beside a brass plate of small, round cookies.
"These are Ghoribieh," Kieran said. "Traditional Persian almond cookies."
Pale and perfectly round, each cookie wore a crown of powdered sugar. Mandy took one, and it melted on her tongue - buttery and rich with almond flavor, lighter than the Mexican wedding cookies it resembled.
"These are wonderful," she murmured. "Did you make them?"
"They come from a bakery in Isfahan. Seven generations of the same family's recipe."
Mandy lifted the small glass, the rising steam carryi the now familiar aroma - nutmeg and clove - wafting up, warming andexotic. She took a careful sip, mindful of the hot liquid, and smiled as the spices danced across her tongue.
"Oh! I love the flavor!" she said.
"In Arabic countries, tea is often spiced with what we callbaharat- warming spices," Kieran explained.
"It's strong and sweet enough to remind me of my time in Cairo," Mandy said, taking another appreciative sip. "But I never had it spiced like this before." She paused, considering. "Well, there's chai, of course..." Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "But I'm absolutely opposed to milk in tea. That's just wrong."
Kieran's unexpected laugh filled the room, rich and genuine. "On that point, we are in complete agreement."
The laughter transformed him. Gone was the austere Djinn prince, replaced by someone whose eyes crinkled at the corners, whose impossibly blue gaze held warmth instead of winter. For just a moment, Mandy glimpsed the real Kieran - capable of finding delight in perfect tea and ancient cookies.
This was what Jacinth had seen - what she'd hoped Mandy could help bring out in him. Not just getting him to laugh, but helping him rediscover joy in life's small moments. The shared pleasure of spiced tea, traditional cookies, easy conversation.
Understanding washed over Mandy like sunlight. Jacinth hadn't chosen her for the wishes at all. She'd chosen her to remind an immortal being that life could still hold wonder. Mandy might not be young or beautiful or powerful, but she knew how to find magic in everyday moments - and how to share that joy with others.
Kieran's laughter faded into a genuine smile - smaller than the full laugh had been, but somehow more precious for its rarity. Like watching a flower bloom in the desert, unexpected and beautiful.
Mozart chose that moment to jump onto the table, whiskers twitching with interest at the cookies. Kieran's hand shot outwith inhuman speed, and gently but firmly redirected the curious cat before he could snag a treat.
"I think not, little one," he murmured, his voice carrying that same warmth from his earlier laughter. "These are not for feline consumption."
Mozart gave him a deeply offended look before stalking away, tail held high in wounded dignity. Bach watched the entire scene from his recliner perch, managing to convey both superiority and amusement in his feline expression.
The domesticity of the moment - an ancient Djinn prince protecting cookies from a determined housecat - struck Mandy as absolutely delightful. She couldn't hold back her own laughter, and to her joy, Kieran's rich chuckle joined hers.
Mandy set her tea glass down carefully, gathering her courage. The warmth of the pendant against her chest seemed to pulse in encouragement.
"Just before you arrived," she began, smoothing her purple skirt across her lap, "I was finally accepting that all this is real." Her hand rose to touch the pendant. "The magic, the wishes, you and Jacinth..." She gestured at the elegant table between them. "Even these wonderful cookies from halfway around the world."
Kieran's glacier-blue eyes studied her over the rim of his tea glass. "You had doubts?"
"Of course I did!" Mandy laughed, the sound carrying a hint of hysteria. "I mean, a Djinn appearing in my living room? Magic pendants granting wishes?" She shook her head. "I kept thinking maybe it was the pain medication they gave me in the ER, making me hallucinate."
