Esmera blinked. Her first thought was that she must've heard Tauram incorrectly, but she had never misheard anything in her entire life.

He had said what she thought he had, that the lark's gifts were his unspoken requests to be her familiar.

Tauram's intense, almost curious gaze overwhelmed Esmera. As if the thoughts spinning through her mind weren't enough to do that.

Esmera turned her gaze downward, to the flames, because they made sense.

Forget about a bird asking her to marry him being ludicrous. This was more so, like a fever dream.

Esmera closed her eyes and pinched herself to make sure it wasn't.

The pain was sharper than it should've been in a dream, but perception couldn't be trusted in those fuzzy, fluid realms.

Esmera gave the pain a few seconds to pass. She opened her eyes to the same room, where she stood in front of the same man with the same question on her mind.

A familiar? Esmera had only ever read the word in a book a fellow orphan slipped into her hands as they were being led to bed after dinner. It brought to mind images of witches with pointed hats and cats stirring cauldrons, tales best read under the covers on a moonlit night.

But what if familiars in Milatanur weren't what she thought they were? Esmera knew too little about the place to assume anything about it.

She turned to see Tauram still watching her. He traced ovals on his armrest with a long, elegant finger. The smile tugging at the corners of his lips told Esmera he was expecting some sort of reaction, but she wouldn't give it to him. She would stay calm even though she was one shocking revelation away from freaking out.

"What's a familiar?" Esmera's voice was steadier than she had expected it would be.

If there was anything her marriage had taught her, it was how to mask her feelings with her voice.

Tauram reached a hand down to stroke Lundas's round, black-rimmed ears. "Familiars are spirits bound to a specific person. They take animal form the moment their person is born. When they are united with us, they become our constant companions. They can also help us with anything."

"Anything?" As hard as Esmera fought against it, some of her incredulity leaked into her voice.

"Anything. Magic, house cleaning, you name it."

Lundas gave a contented purr.

Esmera studied him. For being so antisocial, he was extremely loyal to Tauram.

"So Lundas is your familiar?" Esmera brought her eyes back to Tauram.

"Unfortunately, yes."

The large cat hissed and swiped a paw at Tauram's legs.

"I'm only kidding!" Tauram laughed as he rubbed Lundas's head. Still grinning, he looked up at Esmera. "We're inseparable."

"I can see that." Esmera stared at the cat a little too long, in wonder of the shades of gold on his coat and the way his spots started black on the edges and faded out towards the centre.

Her admiration didn't go unnoticed.

"Lundas is a clouded leopard. They're unique to Milatanur and surrounding areas."

Esmera nodded, absorbing Tauram's words. "That explains why I've never seen a creature like him before."

She only realised how that sounded when Lundas gave an angry meow. His bright eyes glared up at Esmera.

She gulped.

If he pounced, she'd have nowhere to run but the fire. Talk about being caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

"Esmera just means she has never seen any cat as handsome as you." Tauram came to her rescue, rubbing his offended familiar's head. "Didn't she?" He gave Esmera a pointed look.

Esmera grabbed the out he offered her. "Of course." She spoke not to the man she liked talking to but to the cat she would leave the room to avoid. "You have the most stunning eyes, and your coat is like gold."

All of it was true, of course, but Esmera had only noticed that after the length of Lundas's bared fangs.

Those fangs were nowhere to be seen as Lundas rested his head on his paws with a satisfied purr. His eyes were no longer hostile on Esmera. Not friendly, perhaps, but certainly not staring her down like she was his enemy.

Tauram laughed softly. "You're so vain."

Lundas gave a teasing purr.

"How dare you suggest you learnt that from me?" Tauram's wording was angry, at odds with his playful tone.

In moments like these, he seemed the kind of man who didn't take things seriously, but sometimes he struck Esmera as the type who did, like when he analysed the painting of the family at the museum.

He made as little sense to Esmera as Milatanur did. To be fair, she knew equally little about them both.

Esmera pulled her bag away from where it swung too close to the fire for comfort. "I thought Milatanur was a village in the Himalayas. Now you're telling me you have magic there too?"

"No." Tauram paused, deep in thought, judging from the way he balanced his chin on his hand.

Esmera tapped her fingers against the mantelpiece with suppressed impatience.

"I'm saying Milatanur is magic."

Tauram met Esmera's eyes. She went still. His words echoed in the room, echoed through her mind.

Tauram's eyes darted to the window. The surly sky sent raindrops pattering against the glass with renewed vigour. Tauram scanned the room as if he expected to see someone crouched in the corner, listening to everything he shared with Esmera.

She couldn't imagine anyone climbing up to the penthouse without being seen, especially since the rain had turned the skyscraper slippery on the outside. Even if they did, they wouldn't be able to convince the fingerprint-recognition elevator to carry them up without authorisation, but Esmera knew what it was like to have irrational fears.

It was the remnant of a damaged past. She gazed at the tense set of Tauram's jaw. What had hurt him so much that he had carried it into his future? In typical fashion, he gave her no time to ask.

"Look, I don't go around telling people all about Milatanur. It would be exploited before we can count to one if any outsiders found out about it."

Esmera tilted her head. Even after being banished from Milatanur, Tauram still concerned himself with its safety. That said a lot about him, as did the way he lent his coat to strange, rain-drenched women.

"The only reason I'm telling you this is because you're one of us." Tauram leaned forward, lowering his voice. Clearly, he didn't believe his eyes that there was no one around to eavesdrop. "Milatanur isn't a village. It's a magical kingdom separated from this realm by a veil."

Esmera's breath caught. She could hardly begin to envision such a place. How wondrously enchanting it must be!

"What kind of magic?"

"What do you mean?" Tauram's brow furrowed.

Esmera's ears burned at the stupidity of her question. She should've thought it through before she asked it, but she knew she wouldn't have been able to resist it even if she had.

A strange desire gnawed at her. She had to know all she could about this world she belonged to but was wrenched away from.

"Is it elemental magic, where we manipulate fire, water, earth and air? Or is it incantation-based?"

Tauram gave a low laugh. "You are such a child of Arkosara."

"Well, what did you expect?" Esmera folded her arms.

Her shirt was no longer cool against her chest and her bra had retreated behind the solidity of the dried fabric. Even her jeans was warm against her skin.

Only her socks were limp and icy inside her damp shoes, and so they would remain. Taking them off and standing barefoot in front of Tauram would surely strain the bounds of his extensive politeness.

Even though she had Tauram to thank for this warmth and comfort, she didn't like the way he spoke, as if by being different, this realm was inferior to Milatanur.

"I grew up here, in the other world."

Tauram's eyes widened. "Wait, you understood what I said?"

"Yes." Esmera blinked. What was the big deal? "I even understood what you said before. Something about someone named Jilhari."

Tauram avoided Esmera's implicit question as smoothly as he did her direct ones, simply frowning. "You said you grew up here, right?"

Esmera nodded.

"You have no memory of Milatanur?"

Esmera looked inside her mind, but the only picture the kingdom's name drew out was a painting of a sunrise over a small, colourful mountain village.

She shook her head.

"That's very interesting, as interesting as how you escaped Milatanur in the first place. Portals to Arkosara are rare. This doesn't make any sense." Tauram put his head in his hands, shaking it in disbelief.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of the rain beating against the windowpane.

"The magic?" Esmera prompted.

"Oh, yes." Tauram looked up with a smile, but an unsettledness lingered behind it. "We have a different kind of magic. I guess the best term for it would be" —he looked down at his lap as if the answer rested there— "sensory magic."

"Sensory magic?" Esmera blinked. She wracked her mind. She had read about all sorts of magic, watched movies about and stumbled upon several others on the internet, but she had never heard of sensory magic. "How does that work?"

"With the five senses." Tauram held up five fingers, then dropped four so only his index finger still stood. "My power affects others' vision so I disappear. Or at least, it looks like I disappeared, but I'm still standing in the same place."

Esmera's eyes widened in wonder and incredulity. "I'm going to have to see this before I can believe it."

"You won't be able to see it." Tauram smirked. "That's kind of the point." 

"Of course." Esmera's cheeks burned up.

Seriously, she should start thinking before speaking. She had already lost count of the number of times she had made a fool of herself in front of Tauram, and that had all happened over one afternoon. He must think her the biggest moron who had ever wandered into the Himalayan exhibit and then into his house.

"So, you're kind of like a chameleon?" Esmera asked, equally out of curiosity, equally to show Tauram that she wasn't as stupid as she sometimes sounded.

"If chameleons could be this charming, then yes." Tauram leaned forward in his chair.

"More like cocky." She rolled her eyes. Even so, she couldn't resist a laugh at the thought of a chameleon grinning at her as Tauram did now.

To be fair, anything was possible in Milatanur. Clouded leopards could carry out conversations in purrs and larks could leave flowers expressing the words they couldn't speak.

"Touché." Eyes still gleaming in amusement, Tauram rested his hands on the chair's armrests. "It works like this."

A flash of lightning illuminated him, bleaching his skin to the whiteness of bone, filling all the hollows in his face with shadowy black. Just as suddenly, the brightness was gone, and so was Tauram.

Esmera rubbed her eyes before focusing on his seat once again.

There was no sign of Tauram, no indentation in the seat where Esmera knew he still sat. All that betrayed his presence was his soft breathing, so soft it would've been drowned out by the rain if Esmera's hearing wasn't so keen.

With an uncertain frown, Esmera crossed the room, reaching out for the armrest. Beneath her fingers, she felt Tauram's, still warm and soft as flesh should be, still settled against the grey paisley fabric.