36

Cyrus watched the snow drifting from the sky, catching one of the fat flakes. The entire village was buried in snow, piles of it. It covered the roofs, the trees, and drifts of it pressed against the homes. The storm had raged for two whole days, but this morning the wind slowed. The temperature remained chilly but manageable.

It had been a great couple of days. He and Greyson had passed them in peace, talking, and making out. Jasper didn't bother them once, which was amazing if not surprising. He didn't know why, but Cyrus was grateful.

Rounding the corner to the front of Widow Jones' house, he came to a sudden halt. Jasper stood near the door, beaming. Jasper poked him. "So, how did it go?"

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? You spent two days with Mage Greyson in a snowstorm. It's a romantic paradise."

He chuckled slightly. "It was very nice."

"Nice? That's all?"

"What do you want from me?"

"Details!"

"You're married," Cyrus replied, crossing his arms.

"Doesn't mean I can't hear details of your love life. If you weren't related to my wife, I would've shared."

"We didn't have sex," he confessed.

"What? Why not? Are you saying I listened to every story Widow Jones had, most about how heroic Greyson is, for nothing?" Frowning, Jasper asked, "Does he not want to?"

"Jasper," Cyrus said with some exasperation, "Greyson is recovering from broken ribs."

"Ah, yeah, that makes sense."

Cyrus opened his mouth, stalling, and Jasper raised his eyebrows in question. He ran a hand through his hair. It was longer than he usually kept it, almost reaching his chin. Should he mention Greyson's reservations? Or was this something he should keep to himself? Finally, he decided to confide in Jasper. "I'm the first man he's been in a relationship with. Greyson needs time."

"I see. You can't pressure him, Cyrus, no matter how much you want him."

"I'm not."

"Good."

"You like him," Cyrus said. "Don't you?"

"I like that you're happy and that he likes you, though he is more amusing than I would've thought," Jasper said.

He smirked. "Jade will like him, and so will my aunt."

"True," Jasper said. "But the emperor will never like Greyson, no matter how funny he is."

"Spoilsport. You couldn't just give me one."

"Nope."

He shook his head. "C'mon, let's go see who's waiting for us today."

The next few days passed in a rush. Cyrus barely saw Greyson. Jasper was desperate to get home to Jade and their children, so they took the remainder of the accounts as fast as possible. Finally, they finished, and Jasper was leaving.

"Mage Greyson, it was nice to see you again," Jasper said, standing in front of them while Widow Jones' home was behind them.

"You as well."

"Cyrus, can I have a word?"

He nodded, then said, "I'll be right back, Greyson."

They walked toward the carriage that sat in the middle of the village, waiting. Jasper turned toward him, face taking on an exceedingly kind expression. Cyrus knew exactly what Jasper planned to say.

"Don't even start," Cyrus said.

"I have to."

"No, you don't."

"Cyrus, the emperor is never going to let Greyson leave the Griseo Mountains, and you are going to have to come home."

He swallowed. Cyrus couldn't even contemplate it. Greyson said they'd be fine, but he didn't want to have to be fine. He wanted to stay with Greyson. "I'm not leaving Greyson."

"Cyrus," Jasper started.

"No," he snapped. "I said no. It's my decision, and I'm not going to leave him."

"I can't make you." Jasper shrugged.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me. I'll plead your case to the emperor. As soon as your aunt and my wife get wind of this, they'll be on your side, but I don't think Emperor Caspian will relent."

"He will." He has too, Cyrus silently added.

He gathered Cyrus into a hug, slapping his back, then stepped into the carriage. Through the window, Jasper said, "Take care of yourself."

"Tell everyone I said hello."

"I will but make sure to write."

Cyrus ambled back to Greyson's side and watched the procession leave, winding down the road. Greyson took his hand, their fingers interlacing. "Will you be alright?"

"Of course."

Greyson would not meet his eyes. "Do you wish you were going with him?"

"No, I want to be with you."

"Good."

Greyson wandered about the apartment, collecting a few things. He finally felt better, and he wanted to explore the area to hunt for herbs or anything of use. Also, to be outside for more than a few minutes would be amazing. It was getting a bit tedious remaining inside.

The door swung open with a slight squeak, and Cyrus came inside. Lord Darius had tried to flee yet again, early this morning.

"How far did he get?"

"Not far," Cyrus said, rubbing his hands together. "We found him about twenty minutes from the village. Darius had bribed his maid to hire a coach for him. The girl walked over three days to the village down the mountain and brought a carriage. We found him before he left. He wasn't happy."

"I imagine. What are you going to do to the maid?"

"Nothing," Cyrus said. "She"ll be confined to his house and go back to the capital with him, then be reassigned."

"He really doesn't want to live with the monks."

He shrugged off his cloak. "No, it's not that. He's afraid my uncle will execute him."

"Will he?"

"I doubt it. He doesn't like executing people."

Greyson raised his eyebrows. "I would have never guessed. He's only tried to kill me a couple of times."

"Sorry. You're the exception I guess."

He scoffed. "I'm so honored."

Laughing, Cyrus snaked his arms around Greyson's waist. "You should be."

Greyson wiggled out of his embrace, then collected a waterskin, placing it in his bag.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm going to search for herbs."

"Do you want me to come?"

"No, it's alright." Greyson smiled at him, and Cyrus frowned. He paused, then draped his arms over Cyrus' shoulders. "Did you want to come?"

"I don't want to crowd you, but we haven't spent much time together."

"I'm going to tell you something. Prepare yourself."

"Okay," Cyrus said slowly.

"You can't overwhelm me. I love spending time with you," Greyson said, completely honest. He would never tire of Cyrus.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Then I'm going to come with you."

"Good."

Greyson carefully walked under the trees, feet sinking into the snow. He rarely got to this area of the Griseo Mountains because he liked to give Lord Darius a wide berth. But now that the lord was confined to his home, he couldn't wait to explore.

Cyrus followed him. His feet smashed into the unbroken snow, often snapping twigs and such hiding underneath. Cyrus' teeth also chattered so loudly, Greyson could hear it.

Trying to ignore the ruckus behind him, silently thankful he was not attempting to hunt, his gaze scoured the area and searched for anything of use. What he hoped to find was a rare winter herb, caeruleus, that grew in the area.

He twisted around the pine trees, avoiding the fallen trees and craggy boulders, as he kept heading northeast. Greyson found berries, a white winter moss growing on a rock, but not the elusive herb he sought. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up, but of course, he had.

Glancing over his shoulder, Greyson checked on Cyrus, who blindly scanned the trees with his shoulders hunched, teeth chattering. With a slight frown, he came to a stop. "Are you alright?"

He nodded but did not speak, probably because Cyrus could not have gotten a single word out.

"Are your feet wet or numb?"

Cyrus shook his head.

"What about your hands?"

Shaking his head again, Cyrus smiled, though it didn't appear convincing.

Greyson wanted to continue the search. If he'd been alone, he would have, but Cyrus had come with him, and Greyson didn't want him to catch a chill. Giving up, for today at least, he started toward the village.

"Wh-where are y-you going?" Cyrus chattered.

"Back to Woodhurst."

"Wh-why?"

"You're freezing to death."

"I'm fine," Cyrus said carefully.

"Clearly."

With a frown, Cyrus said, "I-I'm fine."

"Love," Greyson said, "I don't mind. I'm not upset."

Cyrus did not say anything but held out his hand. Greyson fought back a sigh. He knew Cyrus simply didn't want to disappoint him because he'd intended to spend the day in the mountains, but he truly didn't mind. Knowing he was not going to convince Cyrus otherwise, Greyson took his hand.

They set off again with Cyrus in the lead, determinedly marching on. Greyson searched for the herb, easy to spot with its black stem and bright blue leaves. As the day continued and they walked on, Greyson did not even catch a glimpse of the elusive herb, but he found a few other things to make the day worthwhile.

When the sun began to set, Greyson and Cyrus entered the village. Cyrus had fallen silent some minutes ago, apparently chilled to the bone. Greyson tried to watch him surreptitiously, but it was impossible, as Cyrus walked on his right side. When they reached the apartment, Greyson moved up the steps and ushered Cyrus inside.

He got a fire started as Cyrus shakily removed his cloak. "You shouldn't have come," Greyson said, trying to keep the bite out of his voice. "Or you should've let me take you home earlier."

Cyrus did not bother to respond as he sat next to the flames. Greyson could not stop the scowl that marred his face. Taking a deep breath, he buried the scathing remarks because he did not want to hurt Cyrus' feelings, and they truly wouldn't help the situation. Instead, he focused on getting Cyrus taken care of.

First, Greyson slipped Cyrus' boots off to inspect his feet. It would not take much for Cyrus to develop frostbite. Next, he peeled off his gloves, carefully checking each finger and pressing a kiss to each for good measure. Once assured Cyrus wouldn't lose any digits, Greyson hooked his fingers around the edge of Cyrus' vest and tugged it off.

As he looked down, Cyrus smiled at him, and his heart oddly started to pound. Greyson had done this before, many times, but for whatever reason, this time, fire rolled along his veins as desire slammed his body.

Greyson wanted Cyrus.

He didn't need time to try and sort through everything. He was not confused or scared, or anything that he thought he might feel. All Greyson felt was love. He loved Cyrus and wanted to be with him. It was as simple as that.

Greyson had no idea what he should say. He didn't know if he should be blunt and directly tell Cyrus that he wanted to have sex. Should he kiss Cyrus and let it lead to its natural conclusion? Or should he try to be romantic? Greyson hadn't wooed Cyrus, or anyone if he was being honest, but for the first time in his life, he wanted to.

"Are you alright?" Cyrus asked as his head tilted to the side.

Nodding, he shifted back. "I'm fine. Completely fine."

"Okay," he said slowly, brow furrowed.

He tried to give Cyrus a reassuring smile, but it came out more of a grimace. Cyrus blinked at him, then stretched his hands to the flames.

Pulse throbbing, Greyson pinched the bridge of his nose. How would he woo Cyrus? He didn't even know if it was necessary. He could simply let nature take its course, which sounded less embarrassing and far easier. Though he'd stopped Cyrus so many times, Greyson didn't know if Cyrus would move beyond a kiss without more obvious interest. But the thought of blatantly telling Cyrus what he wanted made him burn in embarrassment for some odd reason. Greyson couldn't do that. He would have to romance Cyrus, which would no doubt prove interesting.