Do what your heart desires.
Nezael certainly knew what his body desired. Maybe that was enough and it drew him down to Isabella’s chambers, looking for a reason to leave.
Her stores were full—courtesy of himself and Yorick. He chewed on his lip, looking them over one more time, and they remained full no matter how long he stared. He glanced at Isabella’s sleeping form in her bed, wrapped in glinting magic, and then back to her stores. He mouthed an apology for disturbing it and took a jar. She had gathering bags all over the back wall of her room and he dumped half the jar’s contents into one, resolving to come back for it later. No one would ever know.
Well, except the cat. It rubbed up against Nezael’s leg and he bent down to pet its forehead. Magic reacted in kind and the cat headed back to sleep next to Isabella. It’d watch over her; it always did.
“Our secret,” Nezael whispered.
He raced to the library. “Bellamy!” he called out as he entered. Bellamy peered up from his project, the yellow and orange yarn gliding from needle to needle as he worked. Nezael held up the mostly empty jar. “We didn’t finish gathering.”
Bellamy tilted his head. “Truly?” he asked. “Izzy’s usually so good at that.”
“I should gather the rest before the snow comes.” Nezael pressed the jar close as Bellamy watched him with suspicion.
“It’s due to snow any time now,” Bellamy argued slowly. “Our lord—”
“He’ll never have to know,” Nezael insisted, pulse pounding in his ears with each lie. “First sign of snowflakes and I’ll run home.” There was a chirp from the top of the bookshelves and he gazed upward. His little bird was there and he smiled at it, happy for its intrusion. He held out a finger for it and it came, settling eagerly upon it. “I even have my bird so I can send you a message if I cannot return in time.”
The yarn almost tugged from Bellamy’s hands and he looked downward. The cat had followed Nezael up and was now making itself a nuisance. Nezael bit back from laughing.
“You stop that now,” Bellamy said and sighed when the cat simply batted at the yarn faster. He gave up, leaving the yarn, and stood to approach Nezael.
“You can go under one condition,” Bellamy said and Nezael nodded quickly. “If the snow is falling too fast, you know where town is. Seek shelter there.” He fished a hand into his pocket and produced a small coin pouch.
Nezael took the offered pouch and raised his eyebrows. “Truly?”
“Last resort,” Bellamy said. “I’d rather an alive little lord than a dead one.” He turned and picked up the cat. Some of the yarn had entangled itself in its ribs. “If I lost you, I cannot imagine how cross our lord would be.”
It was said so sarcastically, Nezael couldn’t quite take it seriously. He smiled all the same. “Thank you.” He surprised Bellamy with a hug and received the briefest squeeze back before both hands went back to helping the cat. “I’ll be back soon.”
“See to it you are.”
~
The gray skies above couldn’t dull Nezael’s mood today. Bundled up from the cutting winds, he practically floated through the forest all the way to Yorick’s cabin. Unlike the many times before, Yorick wasn’t idly waiting for him on the stump and Nezael disliked how lonely the grove looked without his warm smile. It made sense, though; even he knew Nezael had already refilled all of Isabella’s stores. There was no reason for Nezael to be here, all things considered. Nezael lingered a moment at the stump, doubts begging him to reconsider, before he decided to head up to the cabin door.
He hadn’t been inside since spending dinner with Yorick and Yorick hadn’t invited him in again. Maybe he’d been worried for Nezael’s own sake, or perhaps something else.
Lingering aromas of cinnamon and sugar drifted around the cabin and Nezael breathed in deep. Yorick must have been baking something with what he’d purchased from town the last time he and Nezael went. All the shopkeepers had adored him and had weighed his arms down with so much to keep him healthy in the cold. Nezael only wished they’d treated him with the same kindness.
Nezael’s stomach grumbled and he took that as a sign to knock and see if Yorick would be willing to share.
The door opened shortly, letting warm air wash out with more cinnamon floating along it, and at first Yorick looked confused seeing Nezael. Warranted perhaps, but the confusion melted when Nezael gave him a shy wave.
“Hey you,” Yorick said and smiled against the kiss Nezael immediately gave to the side of his mouth as they went in together. “More herbs already?”
“Not this time.” Nezael moved aside as Yorick shut the door. The warmth inside was almost overwhelming, but was much better than the biting cold outside. “I wanted to see you. I was bored by myself.”
Yorick snickered as he headed back to the kitchen. Nezael shed a few of his layers, hanging them neatly on the hook beside Yorick’s own things, and left his boots next to Yorick’s before he followed. Yorick was pulling out a tray of spiral rolls baked with cinnamon and sugar from his oven. Their aroma filled the cabin tenfold and Nezael’s mouth watered. Yorick must have noticed; he nudged Nezael teasingly.
“Help me put icing on them?”
There was something about Yorick’s tone of voice today, the stilted way he moved, and Nezael watched him a moment. He was clearly nervous despite the smiles and Nezael had no idea why. “I’d love to as long as I get to have one myself.”
“I suppose I can’t very well eat them all on my own.”
Some of the unease melted, at least, and Yorick happily showed Nezael how to drizzle the sugar icing across the top. There were four rolls altogether, practically as large as Nezael’s face, and while they were a little misshaped with none of the perfect swirls of the bakery in town, Nezael found them endearing.
Icing didn’t take long, but then Nezael had to wait for them to cool further before he could eat. Yorick wasn’t even swayed by the sad look Nezael gave him and shuffled him to the dining table to sit.
Yorick’s lips made the time go by faster. They tasted like sugar and Nezael happily drank it in, pressed against the cushions. Finally, as Nezael’s body filled with enough pleasure to overflow, Yorick pulled away and brought the rolls over. It must have been on purpose, the way Yorick was grinning as he did so, but Nezael refused to complain and instead happily accepted the cinnamon roll peace offering. They sat together on the couch, as close as possible while still letting them eat, and Nezael liked it.
The place felt like home, somehow. Some of the dust and cobwebs had been dealt with since he was in here the first time, making it more inviting, and though Nezael missed the few messes he’d seen before, he kept the thought to himself.
They ate quietly, the roll gooey and overrun with icing, and Nezael took his apart with his fingers. Yorick did the same, but his gaze was distant and it felt like there was something he wanted to say. Nezael slowly finished his piece, licking the icing off his fingers, and eyed Yorick all the while. Definitely distracted. He’d picked his roll to pieces instead of eating it, leaving a small mess on his plate.
Gently, Nezael leaned into him.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
Yorick blinked and his shoulders tensed. “N-No—of course not.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Yorick stammered, his jaw tensing with words unsaid, and he eventually sighed and thumped back against the cushions. Nezael followed him back and gently took one of his hands to hold while Yorick gathered his words.
