"You haven't called me to you." His deep voice carried a note of curiosity rather than accusation.
Heat crept up Mandy's neck. She closed her laptop and set it aside, buying time to organize her thoughts. "No, I... I haven't."
Mozart chirped a greeting and abandoned his post to investigate Kieran's robes. Bach, snoozing on the cat tree, did no more than flick an ear in their direction. The cats' casual acceptance of the Djinn's presence only highlighted how surreal her life had become.
"May I ask why?" Kieran settled into the chair across from her, his silvery-blue eyes intent on her face.
Mandy's fingers twisted in her lap. "It feels... wrong. Presumptuous." She gestured vaguely at the pendant. "The idea of just summoning you, like you're some kind of servant rather than..." She trailed off, unsure how to describe what he was. An ancient, powerful being? A Djinn prince? Someone who had shown her nothing but patience and consideration?
"A servant?" His eyebrow arched slightly.
"Yes! I mean, you're..." She waved her hand helplessly. "You're you. Calling you just because I just want to talk to you seems incredibly rude."
A surprised laugh escaped him, rich and deep. The sound sent an unexpected flutter through her stomach. "After all this time, that's what concerns you? Not the magnitude of having three wishes, but the etiquette of how to request my presence?"
Put that way, it did sound a bit ridiculous. Mandy felt her cheeks warm. "Well, when you say it like that..."
A horrible thought struck her.
"Wait - is there some kind of time limit on this? Do I need to make these wishes quickly?" Her stomach clenched as an even worse possibility occurred to her. "Oh god, are you bound to that pendant like a slave until I make all three wishes?"
Kieran's silvery-blue eyes widened slightly, as if he were startled, and he held up one elegant hand. "No, nothing of the sort. I am neither bound nor enslaved. The pendant is merely a focus point, a magical connection between us."
Relief flooded through Mandy as the tension drained from her shoulders. She sank deeper into her recliner, one hand coming up to touch the pendant at her throat. Not a prison then. Thank goodness.
Kieran studied her with that unnerving intensity, his head tilted slightly. The afternoon sunlight streaming through herwindow caught his hair, creating that ethereal halo effect that made him seem even more otherworldly.
"Have you decided on your first wish?" His deep voice filled her small living room.
Mandy shook her head. "No, though not for lack of trying. I do think about it, though," she said. A chuckle escaped her as she confessed, "A lot! I know I must sound ridiculous, being this indecisive about something as incredible as three magical wishes."
Kieran considered her for a long moment, his silvery-blue eyes gleaming with an unreadable intensity. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Most people start off thinking of money."
"Oh, that was practically my first thought," Mandy admitted with a self-deprecating laugh. "How could it not be? And twenty or thirty years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated. But now?" She shrugged, and made a little helpless gesture with her hands. "Having tons of money would create more problems than I want to deal with."
Kieran's eyebrow arched upward in that elegant way of his, and Mandy found herself momentarily distracted by the motion. She'd read about men being able to do that in countless romance novels - that single-brow lift that conveyed volumes of meaning. But she'd never actually met anyone who could pull it off in real life, let alone with such devastating effectiveness.
"You find something amusing?" His deep voice carried a note of curiosity.
"Sorry," Mandy felt heat creep up her neck. "I was just thinking about how you do that thing with your eyebrow. I've never seen anyone who could actually pull that off before."
Heat flooded Mandy's cheeks as Kieran simply stared at her. She watched him pinch the bridge of his nose betweentwo fingers, and she ducked her head, suddenly fascinated by Mozart's tail swishing against her arm.
"So, money. You were saying?" His deep voice carried a note of gentle prompting.
"Right. Money." Mandy gathered her scattered thoughts, grateful for the redirect. "The thing is, I've got enough to live comfortably. My needs are simple - this apartment, my cats, my writing. A big windfall would mean dealing with financial advisors, investment strategies, tax implications..." She wrinkled her nose. "Just thinking about it gives me a headache."
Kieran's silvery-blue eyes studied her with that unnerving intensity that made her feel completely transparent. "Most would consider such concerns a small price to pay for wealth," he observed, his deep voice neutral.
"Maybe." Mandy stroked Mozart's fur, drawing comfort from his steady purring. "But since my disability forced me to downsize my lifestyle to the basics, I've discovered what I truly valued. Having more money would mean more responsibilities, more decisions, more stress. I'd rather focus on the things that bring me joy - my stories, my cats, quiet afternoons with a good book."
Kieran remained silent, those ancient silvery-blue eyes fixed on her with patient expectation. The weight of his gaze made Mandy's skin prickle with awareness. She sighed. She hated discussing her physical limitations, hated the way people's expressions changed when she explained her condition. Even after all these years, it still stung.
"Look, with my back and knee the way they are, I can't do much of anything anyway." The words tasted bitter on her tongue. "I can walk across the floor, maybe stand up long enough to make myself a simple salad before I have to find a chair to sit in quickly."
"It is what it is. I've accepted that." She met Kieran's steady gaze, lifting her chin slightly. "All the money in the world isn't going to fix what's wrong with me."
"Perhaps not," Kieran's deep voice held a note of confusion. "But money would pay for surgery. For your back, your knee."
