Page 24 of Honeythorn
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they aren’t spoiled,” Milan assured him as he stood up. Sudden dizziness made him sway for a moment before he steadied himself. Raphael had taken a few steps closer but kept his distance when it appeared Milan was fine.
“Well, I definitely need dinner,” Milan joked. “Let me just grab a few books. Let’s see…”
Milan had no idea what to take to his rooms. He grabbed the large tome on mechanics he had been reading…but then again, he might want something more fanciful before bed. He grabbed a fiction book. Also, however, a book about agriculture…
“There is no need to take so many,” Raphael admonished.
Milan’s grip on the stack of books tightened protectively as he looked aghast at Raphael. “But I want them.”
“They’ll be here in the morning, Milan.”
Milan grumbled. “All right, one. No two—just two, I promise!”
He took the selected books to his room before going downstairs for dinner. After Raphael gave his usual answer of “Fine,” to questions about his day, Milan took it upon himself to fill the silence with curiosities he had learnt throughout the day. Again, Raphael did not interact, but he seemed to at least tolerate Milan’s chatter.
By the end of dinner, exhaustion had caught up to him, and Raphael suggested he go to bed before he fell asleep at the table. Milan could admit that was a good idea.
He pressed his hand against Raphael’s before leaving, once again causing Raphael to flinch, but Milan had become resigned to the effect he had on his husband.
He managed to keep his eyes open long enough to get ready for bed and read a few more pages before he fell asleep with the candles still lit around him.
**********
It wasn’t an addiction, the escape that the library offered Milan, but he could admit that he spent perhaps a little too much time there.
After the plate of uneaten sandwiches was returned that first day, Cook made sure that whoever took Milan his lunch would stay until he started eating. It was very difficult to refuse food when Melissa was staring at you with her big, doe eyes.
It was not until Katerina’s invitation arrived that Milan realised he had not stepped outside for quite a few days. Instead of waiting for dinner, he sought out Raphael in his study, finding him sitting stiffly at his desk.
“Good afternoon, Husband. I have just received the invitation I mentioned last week from Katerina. I was thinking of accepting her offer for tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?” At least he would pretend to ask.
“No, thank you,” Raphael said. Milan didn’t miss the tenseness in the response, but he shrugged it off.
His husband could tell him if something was wrong. Milan did ninety percent of the talking, anyway. Now, at least, he had an invitation for some real conversation at last.
**********
Katerina’s manor, although less impressive in size compared to Raphael’s, was a wonder inside. It also seemed to function with steam-propelled mechanics and electricity, but it was the decor that stood out. Amidst the traditional filigree and marble, there were wild splashes of colour and large paintings hanging on the walls. One in particular depicting a lounging man and woman, the former casually displaying his collarbones whilst the lady scratched at her foot, revealing her ankle, spoke volumes of Katerina’s taste.
“One of my favourites,” the hostess herself said from behind Milan. He turned to greet her with a smile.
“I can see why.” He smirked.
They settled in a sitting room adorned with furnishings covered in patterned fabric—each unique but somehow creating harmony.
“You have a keen eye,” Milan complimented, looking around the room as a servant put some tea and finger sandwiches on a low table in front of the couch they were sat upon.
“Yes,” Katarina agreed, laughing mischievously at her lack of humility.
Indeed, even her clothes were exquisite: a suit of deep blue that shimmered slightly in the light with a patterned, green shirt underneath and a cream cravat. Where she found these fabrics was a mystery—Milan had never seen anything like it.
“Enough about me, though. You must know I’ve invited you here to learn all about your new life at Ledford Manor.”
“Such a gossip.”
“Oh, unrepentantly.” They shared a conspiratorial smile.
Milan did not know if there was something about Katarina that made him trust her—the way she was frank and open, a gossip but not a traitor—or if it was simply Milan’s need of a friend, but he was sorely tempted to tell her everything.
