Chapter 12

THE TIDY KITCHEN, with its gleaming counters and scrubbed floors, was a reflection of Minael's pride for his home. Though hired help seemed practically mandatory in their social circle of high-ranking noble families, he'd never quite been able to stomach the idea of a maid to help tend his house or a nanny to help tend his children. Being a domestic house-husband and an attentive father was his joy in life. Plus, he'd grown up as the middle child of seven, so tidying up after his small family practically felt like a vacation from his previous life.

At one end of the room was a massive bay window, which let in copious amounts of cheery sunshine in the day, and sheets of calming moonbeams at night. Streaks and spots were attacked with voracity, and decor was changed out with the seasons. Because spring had arrived to beat back the chill of winter, there was a bucket of candy-colored tulips atop the island in the center of the room.

Eyeing a whimsical oven timer in the shape of a newly hatched chick, Laurel put his chin in his hand and wondered how anyone could ever feel so fulfilled keeping house. He'd wondered more than once where his vast, erratic magic had come from, particularly when it became obvious that Ingrid had inherited Minael's mellow, gleeful powers best used for nurturing garden blooms and infusing meals with love. Helio's family's magic wasn't too far off, though Helio himself had never been able to actually cast anything.

"Are you sure there's nothing you want me to make for you?" Minael offered again, hesitantly now.

"I'm fine." It was true he wasn't hungry or thirsty, but his father's timidly nervous expression nearly convinced Laurel to choke something down just to get him to relax. He could sense they were both painfully aware of how long it had been since they'd sat down together for an actual conversation, and the awareness made him unsure of what to say. "Sorry. I'm not trying to be weird."

Minael shook his head a little, but his fingers were tense as they wrapped around his mug. "You aren't weird, Laurel. I'm just afraid to say the wrong thing and upset you."

The direct hit was made even more effective by the way Minael hadn't intended it to be taken passive-aggressively at all. What was one more jab to feel guilty over, Laurel thought, remembering how stiffly embarrassed Ash had been about his money comment.

"You won't upset me. I'm sorry about snapping at you the other night at dinner." He'd meant to apologize much sooner, as it had been nearly a week since the night he'd slept out on the cliffs behind the house. But he'd been absorbed with the wedding, and with Ash.

"I don't want you to feel sorry to me. I know that you were hurt and that you didn't mean it. I was worried that you are feeling unhappy again because of Malory."

"Malory?"

"I'm seeing you happier now, Laurel. You've been so different since you and Malory aren't together."

With his hands twitching restlessly in his lap, Laurel clenched them into fists to still them. "It's because of the therapy I've been going to."

"I know that, and I'm sorry for questioning you. I'm glad to see that you're becoming… More like your old self. I don't say this to be an excuse, but I was hurt because talking to someone else was helping you more than I could. It's still hard for me to understand why you want to, but… I can accept it, and I'm glad for you to be happy."

Laurel's heart trembled, the words adding syrupy, barbed layers onto the amalgam of emotions that had been festering inside him for weeks. To his utter shock, he felt hot tears spring out to dampen his lashes. Because it was only his father with him, he wasn't as horrified as he might have been under other circumstances.

When he felt Minael's arms encircle his shoulders, heard his father murmur reassurances in his ear, he sniffled and wiped his sleeve across his eyes. "You don't have to do that, I don't know what's wrong with me. God, I hate crying."

"If you weren't always so stubborn to let go, then it wouldn't hit you like this, mikrova." The pet name, a common term of endearment for children in his native language, was also the word for a regional dessert, strips of candied fruit. He'd been using it for his son and daughter for as long as they'd been alive.

Though he knew expressing it wouldn't make Laurel happy, Minael was sure it was partially his fault that his son felt so deeply. He'd passed on his own easily bruised heart, but where he'd always felt comfortable expressing his emotion, the inflexible pride Laurel had inherited from Helio prevented him from doing so. As a result, his unhappiness usually exhibited itself in bursts of anger.

"I know," Laurel grumbled, but shifted a bit to allow his father's arms around him more easily. The light scent of soap Minael used in the shower mingled with the lemon-scented cleaning solution that seemed to perpetually cling to his fingertips enveloped him, comforting him. "I'm just… Thank you for understanding. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm always doing it, though, I know."

"I know you don't mean to hurt me or anyone. You are only who you were born to be, and that's perfect."

"I wish that were true."

"It is true." With a small sigh, Minael pulled his son to him, resting his chin on pale strands of hair, identical to his own. Having inherited his vatra's long frame, Laurel had surpassed his father's own diminutive height over half a decade earlier. "I know I've disappointed you, too. I hope you can understand this, but when it comes time that you have a child, you don't suddenly know what to do for everything to be right. And I'm sorry for that."

"It's okay. I understand."

"Your vatra, too. You know he loves you. He is just… Not good at expressing."

Doubtful, Laurel couldn't answer. He'd never once questioned it as a child, but the opposing sense of betrayal that he and Malory's breakup had tossed between them was like a chasm now. "Do you really believe that?"

"Laurel!" Minael's tender voice raised a bit. "He loves you very much, I can promise you. Like me, he doesn't always know the right thing to say or do either, but he shows it in his own way. He's been like that since I've known him."

Laurel wasn't completely naive to different displays of love and affection depending on the pair of people in the relationship, but it had always been obvious to him and probably to anyone who'd ever been around them that Minael would crawl through broken glass for Helio. The complete and utter devotion the soft-spoken man had for his husband was so readily apparent in almost every interaction he'd ever seen them have, that as a child he'd found himself looking forward to feeling so strongly for whomever his mate would be.

The thought now of loving someone so deeply and openly only sent chills down his spine. Particularly someone who could be so cold and aloof as his vatra. Part of him wondered how Minael could stand it, but as he almost never witnessed them argue, it clearly suited both of them fine. Still…

"When did you know that he loved you? Did it happen right away?"

Surprised at the question, Minael pulled back a bit to look into his son's eyes. "You're wanting to talk about when we married?"

"I guess so. I just don't know how you can be so sure."

Minael pulled a chair next to Laurel so they could speak softly, studying his son as he did so. "Are you worried that you've fallen in love with someone?"

"No," Laurel insisted, feeling the tips of his ears burn. "It's nothing like that. If you don't want to talk about it, it's alright. Sorry I asked."

With a hand as gentle as his voice, Minael tucked a loose tendril of hair behind Laurel's ear. "You know your vatra and I were chosen to be married by our families, before even we'd met. When my mother told me I was to be given to someone so far away, and that I'd be leaving my home and everything I'd grown up with, I was excited. But I was also scared of who he might be."

Laurel understood the basics of the origin of their marriage, but he'd never heard the story from Minael's personal viewpoint before. Intrigued, he gave a nod for his father to continue.

"I begged my parents to let me meet him, at least once, before I was to go. You have to understand, for where I lived, we were a wealthier family. But compared to Helio and his family here in Ikronia, we had nothing. It was only for the rare magic in our blood that I'd be married off to someone so highborn. And no matter how afraid I felt, my parents couldn't afford for me to visit."

"They made you marry someone you'd never met?"

A little surprised that the long ago memories were still so clear, Minael shook his head. "I found the papers that had gone between my parents and his, and I stole his address from them. I wrote him a letter, and sent it without my mother and father knowing. For me, it was the first and only time I'd ever gone behind their back."

He smiled a little, nostalgic as he thought of the palm-dampening fear at the mild rebellion. "I wrote to Helio, explained to him how I was afraid. I could only speak the language here a small amount, so I was worried he wouldn't understand. That was very frustrating to me," he remembered, looking a bit wry. "I'm smart in my language, you know. I was always being told that I am very clever. If it's hard for you to believe I can understand, but it's true."

"I believe you," Laurel assured him. "And I never thought you weren't clever."

"Thank you," Minael answered, predictably pleased by the answer. "I waited for his letter back to me for a few weeks. I was hoping that at least I could tell through his words if he would be kind to me or not."

"What did the letter say?"

"He didn't send a letter back to me. Instead, he showed up in my town, at my door." When Laurel's eyebrows raised in surprise, his father chuckled a little. "He said," Minael's voice took on a deeper tone to try and emulate Helio's resonant voice, "Your request was very reasonable, so I could find no reason not to accommodate it."

"Yeah, that sounds like him." Laurel had seen pictures of his vatra as a younger man, before he and Ingrid had come, but found himself struggling to imagine the dark-haired, broadly built young man with his conservative haircut and strong jawline standing on the doorstep of a potential love interest.

"Again, this is something I'm thinking you will have trouble to imagine, but he was very nervous. Worse, after seeing me, I think. I was a very cute boy, you know."

"You're still very cute," Laurel said, scoffing a little when Minael patted his hair into place in a show of subconscious vanity. "What did you do then?"

"He stayed in my town for some days, coming to know my family and me. He ate with us, took me out for shopping. He talked to me about my paintings. I didn't understand until later that he had used his own money for this, without even asking his family, only because of my letter to him… He thought I would change my mind, because I was so scared."

"Why did he care so much, though? Even if you had changed your mind, he didn't even know you yet. He could have just married someone else, right?"

"This is true," Minael agreed. "I must have sounded very pitiful for my words to move him so much."

"That makes sense." And it did, in a way. Helio was a provider, at his core. It was what he took pride in. He had no skill in the way of emotional support, but barring that, letting his family go without a need or want was out of the question for him. Minael's fear must have triggered some protective instinct in him, Laurel thought.

"Because my skills in your language were very new back then, it was hard for us to talk a lot, but he was very patient with me. He brought with him a book, it had translations of words between our two languages. And each time when we met, he would look up the words I didn't know how to say to him. When I couldn't understand him, he would find it in the book to show to me in my vocabulary. It was a lot of work for him, but he never revealed it to me if he was frustrated."

"So you fell in love with him then," Laurel guessed.

"No. But I was assured enough by his effort to talk to me that I could go through with the marriage and be content, at least. And it seemed to me that he felt the same. So we decided to go through with it. We were married within a month from then."

"So you didn't love him when you married him."

"I didn't, and he didn't love me. But with each other we were… comfortable. Maybe the wrong word," he mused, sighing. "I know that for you, and for other people, you want the flash. But for me, it wasn't like that."

"It took time for you, you mean."

Minael let out a hum of assent, nodding slowly as he thought. "I first fell in love with the things he did for me, if you can understand that. I mean that because he was very gentle, and very patient with me, it was easy for me to feel attached to him. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does." The phrasing made Laurel think of Ash, which in turn brought a swarm of swirling butterflies to life in his stomach. Would he end up falling in love with the feelings the healer was giving him?

"The first years of our marriage, I was terribly homesick. He brought me back to my home so many times in those years, only so I could feel happy. It cost very much money, and he was working so hard to be recognized in his job. He must have been very tired, but this was more important to him."

Laurel nodded, thinking about how often, even now, they returned to Minael's hometown to visit with he and Ingrid's grandparents. He'd never considered how much his father must have missed them, and never considered the time and cost Helio was willing to spend to make sure he was able to see them so often.

"This will be easy for you to understand, because you know your vatra, everything is a chance to be the best. I think this is how he felt about marriage. He was determined to be a good husband, because that is what he expected of himself."

"But his motivation didn't matter to you," Laurel said, understanding now. "Even though he was doing it out of a sense of duty, the way he treated you made you fall for him."

"Exactly." Minael smiled, pleased that he'd been able to communicate the nuances of his feelings about it. "And in time, it was the same for him to me. I know you want it like in one of your books, where it happens right away, but it isn't always like that. Sometimes it's better to love what is good for you."

"What if you could have both?" Laurel wondered out loud, before he could stop himself.

"Then you would have double the happiness, I think."

"Did you ever worry that you couldn't make him happy in return? Like, that you just… didn't have it in you to be a good husband?"

Minael frowned, tilting Laurel's lowered face up so he could look into his eyes. "What is this nonsense? Are you asking for me, or for you?" When he only shrugged a shoulder, Minael tilted his head. "There is someone," he determined, unsure whether to feel joy or sorrow for his ill-tempered son.

"Please don't tell Vatra," Laurel begged, annoyed with himself for being so obvious, but more annoyed with Ash for making him feel anything at all. "He hates me enough as it is."

"Laurel, he does not hate you. You know that."

"He hates me because of Malory."

"He was disappointed, because he wanted you to be taken care of, and to be provided for. I know that he has a bad way of showing his disappointment, but you froze us out, too. We didn't know how to talk to you. And because we are your parents, the blame is more on us, so I'm sorry for that. But I'm trying in every way I know."

"I know you are," Laurel acknowledged, guilt and love for his father welling up inside him as a strange concoction. "I love you."

"I love you too, mikrova." Then, because he couldn't be sure, Minael laid a hand on Laurel's. "Does this person make you happy?"

"He does, but I don't know if I want to be happy. It hurts too much."

"You're too brave to say things so cowardly, Laurel."

The remark, though tender in its delivery, had his spine stiffening, his amber eyes flashing with bitterness. "If I'm a coward, then so be it. I'd rather be alone than to pine over a man like an idiot, only to be tossed aside when he realizes I'm not what he wants."

"Your temper, and your pride, are saying that for you. You know that you are courageous and strong. You are easy to love, Laurel, but it will only feel more frightening if you fight against it."

"I don't want to talk about this yet. It's too new. I need time to think."

Minael was quiet for a long stretch, his mind racing with the understanding that his capricious little son, his first born, was no longer a starry-eyed child. He was a man now, with an adult's fears and worries.

"If time is what you need, then take it. But I know that you will do what's right. You can't let your ego stop you from being happy. Promise me."

The firmness in his father's voice touched him, bringing another curl of emotion to his stomach. "I'll do my best."

When he quietly slipped back into his room, ready to collapse into his bed, the sunny spray of Ash's flowers shone like a beacon on his nightstand. Only after cracking his window again, and peering out to be sure the healer wasn't somehow hanging around to spy on him, he held the vase to his chest and inhaled the mild scent of the velvety petals.

"YOU'RE UP LATE," Helio observed when Minael finally entered their bedroom. As was his daily habit, he was sitting up in bed, the small lamp to his right illuminating the inky pages of a daily newspaper. He read the business and politics section in the morning before work, saving the others for after he'd showered and settled in just before sleep.

"I was just having a talk with Laurel." Carefully lifting his side of the thick comforter, Minael slid into their bed. Fidgeting a bit with the edges, he tossed and turned until he found a position that was somewhat comfortable.

"How did that go?" Using his thumb to separate the pages, Helio flipped past an article that featured recipes. He'd never done more than boil water on the stove. Even if he were to spontaneously develop an interest, he highly doubted his spouse would allow him to encroach on that highly guarded territory.

"It was very good." On his side, Minael stared up at his husband's profile, spacing out a little. Because Helio always waited until the morning to shave, his powerful jaw was coarse with day-old stubble. Minael, who had always despised conflict, preferred to focus on that rather than to ponder the somewhat troubling end of his conversation with their son.

"Then why are you so worried?"

Minael felt his mouth drop open a little as he struggled for an appropriate response. "You haven't even looked at me to know!"

Folding down the top of the paper so he could peer over it, Helio fixed his dark eyes on his candid husband. "You left the hallway light on, you forgot to take off your necklace before you got into bed, and you're fretting with my sleeve."

Blinking, Minael ceased the jittery movements of his fingers, pulling back from the sleeve of Helio's nightshirt to his own throat, where he felt the thin chain of the necklace he'd received as a gift for one of their anniversaries. He hopped out of bed to turn out the hallway light, unclasping his jewelry as he did so.

"Did you argue with him?"

"No," Minael responded, dragging their door closed again before coming back to bed. "We apologized to each other." When Helio only hummed in response, he nearly sighed. "He cried."

The statement was simple but effective. If there was anything Helio knew his son couldn't be accused of, it was of being easy to tears. Even with all his melodramatics. When he folded the paper and set it aside, Minael pursed his lips.

"I wasn't meaning to disrupt your reading," he promised, frowning a little.

"I know that." Helio wasn't the type to soothe or coddle, but he never held resentment when his husband needed to vent. Though he recognized he would never be particularly good at providing a comforting response, he'd learned very early on that he rarely needed to do more than listen. "Tell me why he was crying."

"Only for a minute," Minael explained. "He is feeling overwhelmed, I think, but better after our talk, I hope."

"I'm sure he does. You've always been good at consoling them," he pointed out, referring to their children. When Minael regarded him with an enchanted, delighted expression, he could see he'd hit the right button. "You're a wonderful father, Mina."

It wasn't poetry, but Helio's compliments meant more to him than any soppy, romantic line because they were genuine, and given without expectation. "Thank you. I know I'm not perfect at parenting, but I love them so much."

"You're welcome." Philosophic as he was, rarely did Helio see the need to verbally express his feelings to his spouse. As far as he was concerned, the fact that they had an obviously mutual enjoyment for the life they'd built together should be enough.

"You have to meet him partway, Helio. He's trying so hard. He thinks you don't love him."

"That's ludicrous."

"It's because of Malory. He thinks that because he didn't do what you want, you are disappointed in him."

Drawing his eyebrows together, Helio considered it. It was easier, being a vatra to a child. They believed in you, trusted you. It was only as they became adults that they realized you didn't have all the answers like they'd once thought. It was a painful, gnawing realization to him that his performance as a parent wasn't as adequate as he'd like it to be.

"I'll talk to him, when I decide what to say." As much as he detested an emotional scene, the idea of allowing Laurel to continue on with doubt that he was loved was unacceptable. "I've never been as good with my words to them as you are. What else did you talk about?"

Minael never had doubts, as he knew some others did, that Helio was as devoted to their marriage and their children as he was. Even so, the lingering wistfulness from his conversation with Laurel, coupled with the tender praise, had him feeling floaty. "Marriage."

"Whose?"

"Yours and mine."

"Ah," Helio acknowledged. Minael's slim, capable fingers were kneading the taut muscles of his shoulders, a gesture in which he was very familiar with the intention behind. "And you are feeling particularly affectionate now, after reliving those events."

"You were very handsome, and very daring, to come to me, because of my letter." Minael let out a squeak of surprise as he was tugged over to be pressed against his husband's broad chest. It was always a thrilling little shock for him to be reminded of the other man's strength.

"As I said, it was a very reasonable request," Helio murmured, cupping Minael's face in his hands so he could bring their mouths together.