Page 47 of Honeythorn
“I’ll tell you. I promise.”
Lord Raphael smiled slightly, eyes still shadowed by whatever thoughts or memories were crawling through his mind. He nodded decisively a moment later, however. “All right. I’ll get washed and ready,” he said before leaving.
Milan stared at the adjoining door between their rooms for a moment after it had shut. There was a spark of fear inside him too, but he couldn’t watch Lord Raphael sleep in a chair any longer.
They never went to bed so early, of course, but for convenience’s sake would stay in Milan’s room and read or do a little more work until the candles had burnt down. They did so that night also, and when it was time to go to bed, did so awkwardly, laying stiffly, far away from each other, their hands joined together.
“This is a little ridiculous, isn’t it?” Milan whispered finally into the darkness. He heard Lord Raphael chuckle slightly.
“Perhaps.”
There was a moment of silence. Milan took a deep breath.
“Thank you, Lord Raphael. Truly. I…I know this is difficult for you. I know you are trying.”
“As I should have from the start. Do not thank me, please. This is the bare minimum.”
Milan sighed. Another moment of silence.
“Do you mind that I call you Milan, without a title? I don’t know why I do it.”
“Of course not. I’m not accustomed to a title, it means nothing to me.”
“Would…would you mind calling me Raphael, then?”
Milan smiled into his pillow.
“All right. Good night, Raphael.”
“Good night, Milan.”
Sleep came easier than expected after that.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Milan made a noise of interest as he flipped the page, immersed in the words in front of him.
“Good book?”
Milan jumped, twitching away for a moment before looking at Raphael seated next to him. Milan laughed at his own reaction, free hand over his heart. “Sorry, I think I lost myself in the book. Yes—it’s just that I read something very obvious and wondered why I hadn’t realised it before.”
Raphael raised his eyebrows questioningly.
“Well—I was wondering why steam was such a common thing to propel machinery here in the North, but not the South. Of course, steam requires the construction of a large heater underneath the building—or inside the machine—to work. This is a problem in machines, as they can overheat—an interesting topic all in itself—but it can be an advantage in buildings if it’s cold outside. Which, of course, it never really is, in the South. Having such a large heater underneath or in the house…”
“You’d boil alive.”
“Exactly. But it’s interesting because, here, these heaters are serving multiple purposes in houses, but in smaller machines—I’m just wondering if another type of controlled heat—friction, or contained explosions…” Milan trailed off, thinking. Surely there was a more efficient way to operate smaller apparatuses.
“You have a deep interest in this topic,” Raphael said, bringing Milan’s attention back to the conversation.
“Yes, very. It’s endlessly entertaining.”
“You know that there is a talented mechanic and inventor in town.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Would you not like to do an internship with her?” Raphael asked. Milan blinked at him in surprise.
