Mathis's mouth went dry when he looked over at Olive and realized that she was gazing at him, frizzy air-dried curls creating a puffy mousey halo around her head against her pillow. She blinked at him patiently, freckled nose wrinkling slightly.

"Mathis?" she repeated.

Oh. She had asked him something.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. What was that?"

She smiled apologetically. "You're tired. It can be a conversation for another day." She stretched her arms over her head. "And dinner made me sleepy too, despite my nap amongst the dead." She patted the empty half of the bed. "I'll turn over and you'll forget I'm here. Get some good rest, okay? No sleeping on the floor!" She shifted, turning her back towards him.

Mathis pressed his lips together, watching her shoulders move until she settled in and went still. He was not getting in that bed. His mother taught him better than that. He would go days without sleep before sharing a bed with an unmarried woman.

His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment.

"Mathis, if I turn over and you're asleep in that chair, I'm going to drag you into bed myself."

Dammit.

He sighed. "All right fine, but I'm staying above the blankets and putting a pillow between us."

"Fine," she huffed, "you stink anyway."

He sputtered, standing up and looking down at her. He was not responding. This was one of her childish other worldly jokes, he was sure of it. He kicked off his boots and stretched out on his back, arms crossed over chest, removing the pillow out from behind his head and shoving it between them.

Olive smelled like rosemary and lemongrass.

Franny, you snake.

Mathis, despite his chivalric anxiety, fell asleep almost immediately after getting comfortable and had one of the most restful night's sleep he had experienced in weeks. He also had a dream that he was sitting in a little herb garden, smelling all the plants, except they all smelled like either rosemary or lemongrass and he couldn't figure out why but he didn't entirely mind either.

He woke up when sunlight shone through the window in their room and fell across his face. He felt a little stiff, and then realized he hadn't moved all night in his sleep.

He sat up and looked over at Olive, only to immediately glance away. She had turned over in her sleep and bunched up the edge of the blanket to hug it, hiking a leg over the top of it, chemise scrunched up around her thighs, bottom halfway in the air.

She was going to give him a heart attack.

He blinked and then looked back to her bare legs. They were hairless! That was just bizarre. Why would a person have hairless legs?

He noticed a mark on her ankle and narrowed his eyes at it. It was a small black silhouette of a bird. Maybe a mockingbird?

What kind of mark was that? Birthmarks didn't look like that. But she took a bath yesterday and it's here, so it's permanent?

Maybe this crazy woman was magic.

She snorted in her sleep and he looked back up at her, surprised. Hmm. He would keep an eye on her to see what other strange things she might have or do. If she was really magic, then it might be easier than he thought to send her home. But also, if the king decided he needed another magic accessory in the palace for study, that was going to make everything worse.

So not too magic?

Olive shifted in her sleep and then went stiff, brows furrowing. Her eyes flew open and she rolled out of bed, landing ungracefully on her feet with a thump, arms spread out in front of her.

“I'm gonna be late for work!”

Mathis watched her, eyebrows raised. “What work?”

She blinked, as if clearing the blur of sleep from her eyes, and then relaxed, sighing and dropping her arms back to her sides. “Right. Nevermind. I'll probably be super fired anyway by the time I get back.”

“What work did you do?”

She yawned, stretching and rubbing her eyes. “Construction management.”

Mathis frowned as he got off the bed and moved to the chair by the window. Construction management. That sounded like he knew what it meant.

She caught his look while she moved around the bed to straighten her dress out. “Yes, it's what it sounds like. A bunch of people work on building stuff, and I manage everyone and everything, tell people what to do.”

“Did someone make you do that job?”

She laughed. “No way! You gotta be qualified to do it. I went to university for it, got a degree.” She stopped. “Do you guys have universities here?”

He nodded.

She clapped. “See, there? I did that. Got a Master's degree in Construction Project Management, get to make sure we're building what people want and we get it finished on time. I like my job. I like the responsibility and I like being the boss.” She stepped into her dress and hiked it up to slide her arms into. “Do these things have to weigh this much? Women around here must be strong as livestock after wearing these around all day every day.”

Mathis pondered her words, absently watching her fiddle with her laces. “So… you're an educated woman.”

“Hmm? Well, yes, but that's not really uncommon where I'm from. Nothing special about me, I just like knowing things and telling people what to do.” She glanced up at him and smiled.

His heart skipped a beat.

Shit, she was cute.

Wait, no she wasn't. She was normal. Lots of women had big cow eyes and chin dimples and puffy hair that looked soft to the touch.

She heaved a sigh at her laces and filled her cheeks with air, blowing a loud raspberry, tongue between her lips.

Mathis laughed. “Do you need help?”

She turned her back to him. “No! I did this yesterday, I can do this today.”

He looked over her curls. “You have short hair,” he observed out loud.

“I do? Feels long to me. Sometimes it gets stuck between my back and my seat when I'm sitting. It's annoying.”

“All right, shorter than other women around here.”

She turned back to face him, hands on her hips triumphantly. “I've done it!”

He grinned. “Your bow is crooked.”

She looked down at herself. “Well it doesn't have to be perfect does it? Who can tie a perfect bow?”

He gestured toward her. “Come here.” She scowled and shuffled toward him, letting him undo the bow at her waist and tighten the laces. “I mention your hair, because if we're going to get you into the palace, it's going to have to be up. Only girls who haven't reached marrying age wear their hair down in public.” He refastened her bow. “There.”

“Thank you.” She turned and found her new package of hair pins and her comb. “Okay, well I can at least do my own-” she stopped, turning in a confused circle as she looked around the room. “There's no mirror in here.”

“A looking glass? Only the wealthy have those.”

“How do women do their hair without seeing what they're doing?” Olive burst.

Mathis shook his head. “It is as much of a mystery to me, I assure you.”

She let out a sound of frustration. “The one time I remember to take my hair tie off my wrist before bed and I get sucked into another dimension where I'm required to put my hair up. This is balls.”

“Balls?”

She went still and looked at him. “I'm not explaining that one.”

He chuckled. “Then I shall live without knowing.”

She dropped onto the side of the bed, combing through her hair vigorously. She dumped the package of hair pins on the bed and sorted through them. “These don't look too bad.” She looked to Mathis, piling her hair on top of her head experimentally, “Should I just braid everything and then pin it all up?”

“My mother always plaits a crown around her head.”

“Listen, if I get a braid in the back of my head that isn't lopsided, it'll be a miracle.” She tossed her head back and set to braiding.

Mathis watched her finish her braid, unable to see her progress, and then twist it up into a spiral bun at the back of her head, making faces while she secured it with probably more hairpins than she needed.

Finally, she huffed and showed him the back of her head. “How's that?”

He guffawed. “It's a bird's nest!”

She picked up a pillow and chucked it at him. “I can't do this, then! That's all I know how to do with this. I have layers!”

He got to his feet. “I'll be right back,” he said, giggling as he exited the room.

He jogged downstairs and found one of the maids in the common area.