“This is Ticer work. It’s weird to see you doing it. That’s all.”

Laurel laughed as she ran her sponge over the dusty countertops. “I thought you were getting uncomfortable because it’s ‘women’s work.’”

“Humans,” Tamani muttered derisively, shaking his head. Then, cheerily, “I’ve scrubbed many a room in my day.”

They worked in silence for a time, Tamani clearing cobwebs from several of the corners, Laurel scrubbing at the counters and cabinets in the kitchen.

“You really should let me bring you some cleaning supplies from Avalon if you’re going to do this very often,” Tamani said. “My mom knows a M—ah, Fall who makes the very best stuff. You wouldn’t need the gloves.”

“You were going to say Mixer,” Laurel teased.

“I’m a soldier,” Tamani said, his voice taking on an exaggerated formality. “I am surrounded by uncouth sentries from dawn to dusk. I apologize for my vulgar behavior.”

Laurel looked up at him, watching her with a playful, almost taunting, smile. She stuck out her tongue, which made him laugh. “Well, if it’s not an inconvenience, faerie cleaning supplies would be nice,” she said. “How is your mom?”

“Good. She would like to see you again.”

“And Rowen?” Laurel asked, evading the question his statement implied.

Tamani smiled broadly now. “Had her first performance at the equinox festival; she was adorable. She held the train for the faerie playing Guinevere in the Camelot retelling.”

“I bet she was beautiful.”

“She was. You should come to a festival one of these days.”

The possibilities loomed large in Laurel’s mind. “Maybe someday,” she said with a smile. “When things aren’t so…you know.”

“There’s no place in the world safer for you than Avalon,” Tamani said.

“I know,” Laurel said with a quick glance out the window.

“What are you looking for?” Tamani asked.

“The other sentries.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you get tired of knowing there’s always someone listening to you?”

“Nah. They’re polite. They’ll give us our privacy.”

Laurel snorted in disbelief. “Admit it, if it was Shar and some strange girl, you’d spy.”

Tamani’s face froze for a second before his eyes darted to the window too. “Fine,” he admitted. “You win.”

“It’s one reason I don’t know that I could ever live in this cabin again. Never really being alone.”

“There are other advantages,” Tamani said not-so-teasingly.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Laurel said, not taking the bait. “But privacy isn’t one of them.”

They cleaned silently for a while longer. At first, Laurel wished she had thought to bring a radio or something. But Tamani didn’t seem to mind the silence, and soon Laurel realized that it wasn’t really silent at all. The breeze winding through the trees and wafting through the windows was a sound track all its own.

“Is it hard?” Tamani asked suddenly.

“What?” Laurel said, looking up from the window she was polishing.

“Living a human life? Now that you know what you are?”

Laurel was still for a long time before she nodded. “Sometimes. What about you? Isn’t it hard living in the forest so close to Avalon, but on the wrong side of the gate?”

“It was when I started, but I’m used to it now. And I really am close. I go back a lot. Plus, I have friends—faerie friends—who are with me all the time.” He paused for a few seconds. “Are you happy?” he whispered.

“Now?” she replied, her voice equally low as her hands clenched the paper towels.

Smiling sadly, Tamani shook his head. “I know you’re happy now. I can see it in your eyes. But are you happy when we’re—when you’re not here?”

“Of course,” Laurel said quickly. “I’m very happy.” She turned and rubbed hard at the windows.

Tamani’s expression didn’t change.

“I have every reason to be happy,” Laurel continued, forcing her voice to stay calm. “I have a great life.”

“I never said you didn’t.”

“You’re not the only person who makes me happy.”

A tiny nod and a grimace. “I’m quite aware of that.”

“The human world isn’t as dreary and bleak as you like to believe. It’s fun and exciting and”—she searched for another word—“and…”

“I’m glad,” Tamani said. He was close by her shoulder now. “I wasn’t asking to prove some kind of a point,” he said earnestly. “I really wanted to know. And I hoped you were. I—I worry about you. Needlessly, I’m sure, but I do nonetheless.”

Embarrassment flooded through her and she tried to relax her stiffened spine. “Sorry.”

“Well, you should be.” Tamani grinned.

Laurel shook her head with a laugh.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him lift his hand toward her, then he let it drop and attempted to subtly push his hands into his pockets.

“What?” Laurel asked.

“Nothing,” Tamani said, turning and starting to cross back over to the opposite side of the room.