He bought us the same roasted vegetable skewers I’d bought him on that first time. I didn’t have to ask if it was intentional, if he’d remembered specifically. Obviously. We sat on a bench in the street that felt a little less freezing through the fancy robe and listened to the violinist, the one who Robin said – “Really does play like he’s trying to keep hold of a cat that’s escaping his arms,” I repeated over the din of the music and the crowds. He finished his food and I finished mine, and he asked in that curious way if I wanted to dance for a while. “I can’t dance,” I said. Kaspar had told me very clearly and my whole body stiffened at the memory. “I’ve tried. I’m not doing it. I don’t know the steps and I’m no good at learning.”

  “Oh, me neither!” Robin said brightly. “Wanna mess it up together?”

  I… I did. With Robin? I really did. And dancing with him felt like such a release from the day, from the year, from life itself: we bumped into each other at least as much as I bumped into whoever had the misfortune to be behind me at the wrong moment, and you would’ve thought I’d have learned by the third time I trod on his boot, and I slipped on the ice and fell into his arms and felt warm and alive and despite all the sadness, despite all the crap, I was alive, and that meant so much. I was alive, and from now on I was gonna make it the problem of anyone who dared stand in my way.

  “It’s nice seeing you happy again,” he said in my ear. “I think feeling happy is like eating your greens. You might not wanna, but you gotta do it a few times each day in a few different ways and you’ll feel much better for it in the long run.”

  We danced till the violinist’s cat finally escaped and Robin tipped him a few coins in the upturned hat. I didn’t wanna be alone and I didn’t wanna be at the Institute tonight and I really didn’t wanna leave Robin’s arms, so that’s where I remained till we passed through his front door and I gave myself some breathing space. He struggled lighting a fire in the hearth, on his knees and hissing at the tinderbox, and I knelt down beside him. Ushered him back a fraction. Leaned in. And with a few moments of concentration, the buzz inside me sparked on the logs and fizzed into a flame. Robin’s face lit up brighter than the fire could manage.

  He brought a lit tinder to the stove and set about halving potatoes and I helped with what he gave me. “Someone’s gonna have to tell his family sometime,” I said. The emotions swelled, but if I talked about it matter-of-factly, I could just about keep the dam from bursting at the moment. Less than a day ago. How?? No doubt it would overflow and flood me later, but… “The hospital don’t know them. He didn’t die on the battlefield so the war front won’t care. I know for a fact that fucking captain doesn’t either.” I chopped some more with vigour. “Someone ought to do something about that captain before he hurts anyone else. The wars are bad enough without someone trumpeting their glories while strutting about in his shining finery like a rooster at dawn.” Chopping harder, the knife snapping at the tray. “I really think I could. Given a chance. I’ve known forever that no one notices me unless I’m stealing something. And if he was drinking that heavy, he has to still be in town tonight –”

  “Compassion and understanding,” Robin said. He’d finished with his own potatoes, apparently as good with them as he was at applying ointments. “Oh, if it helps, what if I went up to your town and delivered the message? Tell me where his family live and I’ll pass on the…”

  My finger laid across his lips was enough to hush him. “No way. Stop. You’ve done way too much for me, and I, uh…” I chewed on my lip. Careful not to spill blood.

  “You trailed off. What’s up?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Robin was winning me over by offering his heart just as Kaspar had won me over through his wallet. I knew I couldn’t let it slip the same way again. “I’ll have to do it at some point. I’ve just got this fucking exam to prepare for, studying to somehow start, a murder to plan, and –”

  “Hey, hey, no murder. That’s not gonna help.” He had this way of sounding underspoken yet deadly serious at the same time. “You have to sit with it and work it through it till you can let it go bit by bit.”

  “I didn’t mean it,” I said. Wasn’t sure that was true.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  His elbow knocked softly against mine in the cramped little kitchen as we manoeuvred the tray into the oven and he dashed over some oil and herbs I didn’t recognise. “You know, I didn’t realise how much I missed being around people till after that night you spent here. The night was nice, but after you’d gone it was… like walking through a beautiful flower field but you have a cold and can’t smell anything. It’s like you give colour to the air. I missed it when you were gone.”

  “That’s really sweet of you,” I said.

  “I mean it,” he followed before I could add more. “I haven’t danced with anyone else in years. Not like that, anyway. Same for cooking. I know it’s just roasted potatoes, but…” He smiled in a small way and for the first time, he actually took down his hood on his own. I swore the horn stumps on his head had grown a little since the only other time I’d seen them. Had he let them grow? “I’m getting that same feeling now, that feeling of home. Oh, I wish I’d grown up in a house that felt like this. Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t have had to leave.”

  “If you didn’t leave, I wouldn’t have met you.”

  “And I wouldn’t have met you either, so maybe it’s kinda messy but good things appear out of the blue, right? And then you cling to them and don’t let go.” He looked up at me and suddenly we were close, so close. His hand on my chest, my back against the wall, my heart thudding, my whole body warm and thriving. He leaned up and found my cheek and kissed me, and with a hand on the back of his head I tilted my head properly and my lips met his.

  I don’t know how long we embraced for. Long enough to burn some potatoes. Nothing in my life had ever been more worth it.

  Robin unspooled a string of curses I honestly didn’t know he had in him and I blushed even harder at the language as he rescued the smoking tray from the oven.

  *

  “I don’t think I told you about the months between leaving High Contempt and finding Sterling’s,” he said. The moonslight cast soulful shadows around his bedroom as my legs found his under the sheets.

  “I thought it was weeks…”

  “Months. I may have said ‘weeks’ to, uh…” He coughed. “I was scared and alone and I didn’t know anyone, and this guy down by the market offered to take me in. I didn’t want to risk the streets in an unfamiliar city.” His voice was small and soft, and it felt like cashmere for the soul. “And in exchange, all he asked for was… occasional favours.”

  My eyes met his in the dark of the room. “What kind of favours?” I asked. “Wait. Ah.”

  “I think it was okay at the start, but it became less okay. Became… more. But I was scared of being out on my own as well. I tried a new street every day and every time I walked into somewhere to put my name forward, they either conveniently were all full up right now, or someone had just taken a free position, or some actually had the guts to say it openly. I was just gonna start a fight. I was gonna slack off. I was a liability. Uncivilised. Probably couldn’t count. Probably couldn’t read. Probably was gonna steal everything I could get my hands on and run back to the forest –”

  “Hey, hey,” I soothed. His voice had grown so sharp so quickly, and I felt him ease a little against my arm. “I get it. I know.”

  “Not really. I got myself so exhausted I slept as soon as I got back home in the afternoon. And every other night, that guy would wake me up when he got back in the evening, wake me up deliberately, and he’d be right there, all wide smile and bare chest and bare legs and locking the room door and…” He had his own arms up against his chest. I couldn’t imagine he was cold: he’d dressed into his all-covering sleepwear before inviting me into the room, just like last time. Asked if it was okay if I stayed wearing my day clothes too. “Months,” was all he said.

  “I’m so sorry, Robin,” I returned. “I don’t know if I can say anything good about it. You got through it and everything’s better now. I wanna help make it better for you.” He snuggled close against me, radiating heat. Mumbled something vague. “Sometimes stuff just fucking sucks and you have to be glad it’s in the past, I guess. Appreciate that it’s done and you don’t have to go through it again.” His breathing dipped and a brief bit of me panicked, but he was only sleeping, only sleeping. Nothing worse. “You’ve been such a blessing to that apothecary, to me, to everyone in the hospital – to everyone who’s lucky enough to know you. I don’t know what our futures are gonna bring but if I have any say in it, I want you to be part of it in some way.”

  Being with Kaspar was a loud, brash, bold kind of good. The kind that overran into abrasive and stinging, and I never felt I knew exactly where the line would be. Same with Omen to a point – rest his soul – and as with Kaspar, I felt like I was always being the person they wanted me to be. Doing as they wanted. Acting as would help them. Furthering them. Where was I to fit in all of that?

  Here with Robin, apparently. I found I fit quite nicely in his bed. A small, modest bed, big enough only for the two of us and not much else yet I hadn’t felt more comfortable in… a lifetime. Spiritually, I mean. Physically my arm was starting to go a little numb under his slumbering head and I was pretty sure my tail was on the way out too. When was it ever not? I let my eyes fall shut and willed myself to sleep. At least here, if nowhere else, I could feel safe for a night. And I was so happy Robin could too.