"I am not jealous." 

"I don't believe you."

"Jealousy is beneath me." 

"Be that as it may, I'd like you to at least make an effort." 

And so, the next time Naima spends any significant amount of time at the tower in Diobel, she might notice someone tagging along after her. 

Naima spends lots of time at the tower in Diobel! At least six hours a day! Often as many as eleven!

Possibly that's less time than most people spend at their houses. And even when she is there, she's usually busy studying, talking to her new apprentices, designing new questionnaires for data collection, going over collected data, preparing spells, occasionally playing with her toddler - 

Anyway, it might take her a little bit of time to notice Félix, but she will after a while. She's working on embroidering Élie's cloak right now, and that, at least, doesn't take all of her intellectual attention while she does it.

"You need something, Félix?"

"No." 

"All right."

There, she's fulfilled her obligations towards people who are mysteriously hanging around while she embroiders things.

"Your husband told me that I ought to 'make an effort.'"

"At what, in particular?"

"Not disliking you." 

Naima successfully limits herself to a smile, instead of a laugh.

"I see. Do you feel like you're making any progress?"

He hops over and peers at her embroidery. 

"Not particularly. Do you have any personality traits? With humans I can't always tell." 

"Well, I've certainly been told so. Of course a lot of the ones I've been told I have were bad, so I'm not sure how much they'll help you. I am supposed to be proud, disrespectful, reckless, inconsiderate, distastefully mercenary, and terrible at polite conversation. People who are trying to say something nice about me usually say that I am an extremely hard worker. What about you?"

He might look taken aback, if it's possible for birds to look taken aback. He's not used to being asked about his traits. 

"I am very rich and have exceptional taste." 

"Oh, I see. I like to think I have exceptional taste, too, but maybe I'm just opinionated. You know, I hadn't thought about it before, but I think we have a fair bit in common."

He pokes at the embroidery with his beak. 

"This isn't terrible. It's better than the things he picks out for himself, anyway. So plain. I tell him, but he doesn't listen."  

"Well thank you! I was thinking when I started that I wanted him to look like someone cared about him. Of course it occurred to me shortly afterward that I'm sure almost every fifth circle wizard just orders most of what they wear, and perhaps makes the magic items, so he'll just look like he has good taste himself, but that's all right too."

"He has dreadful taste and shouldn't like people to be misled about it. What do you think we have in common?"

"I think we both very much appreciate having beautiful things, and that we're both remarkably direct and opinionated. I suppose that might be part of why he gets along with both of us."

Félix cocks his head. 

"I am going to go away now." 

And he does.

"All right."

He's cute, but she's perfectly happy to go back to her work.

The next day, at work, Félix suddenly says – "You wife seems to like you." 

He laughs. "Really?"

"I can't think why."

"I like to think I'm very charming."

"You are self-important, unreliable, short-sighted, and much less clever than you think you are." 

"But you like me."

"That's just it. I can't help but like you. I've spent my whole existence as a sapient being making peace with your many flaws. That doesn't mean that other people should." 

"It never used bother you this much when I made friends, Félix." 

"They didn't know you like I do." 

"Even Lucien? I knew him first." 

"And look how that turned out!" 

"But you think Naima does."

Shuffle shuffle. 

"She might change her mind."

"I know."

"I mean it. She might wake up one morning and realize she can do much better for herself." 

"And that would make you happy, wouldn't it?"

Shuffle shuffle peck. 

"I just don't want you to get hurt. You don't think about these things yourself, you know." 

Aww. Élie can scratch his tiny little head. 

"Oh, Félix. Are you worried I might have decided to do better for myself?"

"Not at all. You couldn't possibly."

Scritch scritch. 

"You're right, I couldn't. When there was no one in the world I could speak to without risking my life, you were always beside me. You know me better than any creature living. I love you very much. 

And I love Naima, too." 

Well, he can bite Élie on the nose and fly off to go find Naima. 

If it's late enough for her to be home, she'll be in the library reading.

Then he will land on her book. 

"I don't think we're especially similar, actually." 

"No?"

"I am capable of acquitting myself well in polite company, only I choose not to. I work only as much as I please. And he needs me more." 

"Well, those do seem like differences. Although I admit I'm not entirely sure how much of my deficiency at polite conversation is down to lack of ability versus lack of interest, at this point, especially since getting the earrings."

 "Well, if we were both interested, I'm sure I should be better at it than you." 

" - you know, I wouldn't bet against you. I certainly find you more likable than you seem to find me."

"A mark of your poor discernment. I'm trying to be very insulting." 

"I know! It's charming. Maybe you have better taste than me after all."

"Do you always like it when people insult you?"

"You know, I don't think I do. I'm not entirely sure what the difference is. Maybe it's that you're small and a little ridiculous-looking and still perfectly self assured in your own greatness, and I admire that a little, and am reminded of some elements of myself. Or maybe I only dislike being insulted when I don't feel perfectly secure in my own situation and ability to go on doing what I please regardless of what anyone else thinks of me, and it's difficult to take you seriously as a threat when the rest of my life is going so well. Or maybe I'd just like to appreciate you as a friend of my husband, and am therefore unreasonably inclined to find you charming even when you're being terribly rude. Hard to say, really."

"Kkkk," he says, because magpies lack the vocal apparatus to "hrmph." 

"Do you care what he thinks of you?"

"Hm," she says, and leans back in her chair to think for a moment. "I'd have to say I do."

"You shouldn't. He's an idiot."

" - well, I think I have to disagree with you on the facts, there. But the thing I immediately thought of was that I've made a promise to him, and if he thought very poorly of me then it would indicate that I wasn't doing a very good job of keeping it. And perhaps I would feel relatively less secure about how well my life was going, if Élie stopped liking me."

"What about if you stopped liking him? I don't suppose you've thought of that." 

"What are you imagining it would change?"

"He would be sad. He would make faces. He might start reading poetry, even. I'd have to listen to it. It would be dreadful." 

"Oh, I see. Well, I'll try to go on liking him, then, for your sake. I wasn't particularly anticipating having trouble with it, but if I ever do, I'll just remember that it would make things terribly inconvenient for you if I were to stop."

"People say that, but then they always try to have him executed or something and he mopes for years and is terrible company." 

"Oh. I see."

"I do understand how that would color your expectations about Élie's future relationships. And it's good of you to be concerned about him. I'm being a little facetious with you, Félix, but I am genuinely not very worried about a complete breakdown of my relationship with Élie. I'm not going to promise that I will always enjoy his company more than anyone else's, or that I will never be annoyed with him, or that I will always agree with everything he does. Maybe in twenty years I won't like him half so much as I do now, I don't know. But I have promised to be faithful and true to him, and to be good to him and greet him with love, for the rest of my life."

"I don't need to be certain that I'll always like him to be certain that I'll keep the promises I made to him. I expect that I will also go on liking him, and I intend to try quite hard at it if it ever becomes necessary to try. But if I should ever fail at liking him, it will not mean that I therefore think it's fine to betray whatever trust he's extended to me. It will just make keeping my promises somewhat more annoying."

Félix considers that for a moment. Or seems to. It's hard to say. He could also be considering the gold lettering on the binding of Naima's book, being, as it is, very shiny. 

"Did he tell you before you married him that he is a disobedient, troublesome, ungrateful sort of person? His professors always said so and it seems like the sort of thing one's wife ought to know. Also, he has bad judgement, and he's always doubting himself, in a tiresome sort of way, and – 

– Well. You didn't know him when he was young."

"I'm not sure if he used any of those specific adjectives. I could probably have guessed the disobedient and troublesome."

"Speaking of troublesome and disobedient creatures – Naima, is he bothering you again?"

"Élie! Well, I think he's trying, but I wouldn't say he's succeeding."

"That's good. I noticed he'd gone off again, and I was worried – "

Félix flaps over and lands on Élie's shoulder. 

"You never made me any promises." 

Naima shuts the book and puts it away, now that she can do so without closing it onto Félix.

"Well, have you asked him to?"

"I didn't think about that."

"Well, I had to ask him twice, so I wouldn't give up until you've tried at least that many times."

"I have my pride."

"I'd say it's up to you what you want most, then."

"Well, I have very little pride. Félix, I don't suppose you'd make me a promise?"

"Kkkk."

"I won't take that as a no. Naima – any thoughts about what I should ask him for?" 

"Oh, hm. I might be terrible at this if there isn't an immediate problem to be solved. What do you want?"

"Hmm, let's see. Do you know that Félix is very handsome, as magpies go? At least that's what he's told me, and he's never given me any reason to doubt him. So I've often though, one of these days, he might find himself a lady friend. And if he does – well, naturally, I'd encourage it – but still, I'd like certain reassurances. 

Félix. Do you think you could promise me that you'll always tolerate my moods, and help me with my research, and tell me when I'm being an idiot, and care for me just as much as you do right now – however little that might be?"

"I suppose that doesn't sound too burdensome."

"In recognition of your pride, then, Felix, is there anything you'd want in return?"

"A raise."

"Mercenary!" 

"And he said we weren't alike."

"To be entirely fair, I don't think there's anyone in the whole world quite like either of you." 

"Oh, you could say that of anyone. - although I suppose it might be more true of us than of most people."

"I am indeed a singular creature." 

"Oh, dear, I seem to have given him a swelled head – " 

Félix flies off and lands in front of Naima. 

"I have not got a swelled head. My head is extraordinarily proportionate. I am a model specimen among magpies. My head could be in a museum of correctly sized heads. Tell him, won't you?" 

"I'm not sure I'm much of a judge of magpie heads, but I think it's very nice."

"See? It's just like I've always told you. You've married a very reasonable woman."