Page 44 of Honeythorn
Were fear and trauma enough to excuse the way that Lord Raphael had behaved? He hadn’t controlled Milan, had not isolated him from anybody but him—Milan had been free to do as he wished, except to forge a relationship with his husband. But Lord Raphael’s actions had gone beyond coolness. He had been cruel, at times, in his suspicion of Milan’s character and intentions. Part of Milan wanted to forgive him—for the sake of peace in his own house if nothing else—but it was not so easy.
However, itwasobvious that Lord Raphael was trying.
“Did you read anything interesting today?” he would ask at dinner. Milan would smile and tell him and listen to Lord Raphael’s stilted explanation of what he had been working on that day.
It was a vast improvement from before. But was it enough?
After a week, it was apparent that Milan’s claustrophobia from not leaving the manor was reflected in Lord Raphael, and he suggested they take walks around the estate at least once a day. Lord Raphael agreed quickly, and that first day they set out into the cold, hands awkwardly clasped together.
“Do you think it will snow soon?” Milan asked, filling his lungs with the frigid air.
“Not too soon—in a month or two, perhaps.”
“That’s soon!” Milan laughed, looking up at him as they walked. Lord Raphael gave him a small smile.
“Yes, perhaps you’re right. I guess I was thinking of all we have to do before the first snow.”
“A lot?”
“Yes—once the earth freezes, all cultivation stops except for anything that grows on trees, so we have to ensure that all our winter crops are collected by then.”
“None? I guess that makes sense—I thought you might have had some magical plants that grew even when it was that cold.”
Raphael chuckled—a noise that was new for Milan to experience. “You do not have snow in the South, yes?”
“None whatsoever. I’ve never even seen snow. They say it is white.”
“Never?” Lord Raphael asked, sounding surprised.
“Never. You find that quite odd?”
“Well—no, I should have known. But…I can’t imagine a year without snow.”
“Do you like it?”
Lord Raphael paused. “Yes and no. I used to love it as a child—to play in it with school friends, or even alone.”
“You can play in snow? Don’t you freeze?” Milan exclaimed, aghast. He had heard it was quite pretty, but he was so averse to the cold, he couldn’t imagine doing anything but sitting in front of a fireplace until it disappeared.
Lord Raphael laughed, and even now, after all that had happened, Milan felt a little thrill at hearing it. “Well, not if you’re clothed as you seem to always be,” he teased. Whereas Lord Raphael was only wearing his normal attire and a coat on top, Milan was wrapped in layer after layer, even his head wrapped up so that his ears avoided the cold. He knew that he was just a dark little face swamped in furs. He was thankful for Lord Raphael’s large, warm hand around his, for it had to be bare to ensure they did not go too long without physical contact.
“Yes, I have to admit that I’d crush Saturnus if I tried to ride her,” Milan said ruefully.
“You are quite fond of the mare,” Lord Raphael observed.
“Yes. She has such a good character.”
Lord Raphael laughed. “Not many would say that.”
Milan scoffed. “You just have to get to know her.”
Lord Raphael looked pensively at Milan for a moment, a soft smile on his face. It was truly disconcerting, how different this man was from the one before Milan’s heat. Milan had to wonder if almost dying was what Lord Raphael had needed to prove that Milan was not going to hurt him as Jack did—if this was not a change but who he was with everybody he was not afraid of.
“You mentioned you liked snow in your childhood,” Milan said, returning to the earlier subject. “And now?”
“Well, it’s not that I dislike it, but it brings complications. I worry about the villagers, especially the elderly or those with young. The animals, too, have to be well insulated. We’re used to it, of course—our homes are fit for the cold. Still…”
“You worry.”
