That night, with Adena's laughter still echoing faintly from somewhere down the hall and half the mansion in some state of post-arrival chaos, Eleanore found herself, against every previous protest, standing in the doorway of Caelestis's room with a pillow tucked under one arm.
"Don't," she said, before he could even open his mouth, "say a single word about this being your room. It's temporary. Adena's occupying the guest room closest to mine and I am not spending the whole summer listening to her talk in her sleep through the wall."
"I wasn't going to say anything," Caelestis said, entirely too pleased with himself for someone who was, in fact, saying something.
"You were thinking it very loudly."
"I have an expressive face. It's not my fault."
