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"It's awfully warm to be preparing a hot drink." Ryoma wrinkled his nose. "And one so strong-smelling, at that."
"Well, it's got lemon and ginger, so I'd hope it would be strong," Silas said, not looking up. He was seated on the floor of their quarters, hunched intently over a set of Hoshidan-style tea-brewing instruments. "Good for preventing sickness. My warm-blooded Nohrian constitution hasn't been dealing too well with this eternal summer you have here."
Ryoma scoffed but sat down next to his husband, crossing his legs. "It's cooled down considerably since you got here."
Laughing, Silas strained the last of the ginger flecks out of the tea. "Nohrian summers can only dream of the sunshine a Hoshidan autumn has to offer. I'm used to a change-of-seasons illness from the first frosts by now." He grabbed the lemon he'd set aside and squeezed a bit more juice out of it before pouring himself a cup. "Do you want some? It may taste as strong as it smells, but there's nothing more cleansing than hot ginger and lemon."
Silas held up the cup he'd poured and, with the drink closer to his face, Ryoma felt his sinuses clear out completely just from the sharpness of the smell.
"Strong," he repeated, but took the cup in hand. "How is it that Nohr can produce such bland food alongside tea that assaults the senses like this?"
"We can only import so much, and I assure you, spices for our hot drinks will always outweigh spices for our food in the wintertime. A good, bracing tea warms us far better than seasoned food ever could." Silas poured the remainder of the tea into another cup he'd set out and sipped from it, tensing a bit as it scalded his tongue but smiling contentedly all the same.
Ryoma followed suit, tasted the concoction, and promptly grimaced. "You honestly drink this for fun?"
Silas laughed. "We drink it for health and warmth. Delicious, well-balanced flavor is a luxury."
"So you admit it's excessively strong."
Silas elbowed Ryoma, only vaguely conscious of the fact that they were both holding mostly-full drinks. "I admit that you're used to drinking smooth and floral teas, and that you can't handle a taste of my homeland."
Ryoma's teasing smile fell. "You miss Nohr."
"I mean, I always will." Silas moved his cup to his other hand and laced his fingers with Ryoma's. "Family, friends, my favorite bakery, the celebration of spring's first flowers, the big festivals during the darkest months, that's all back in Nohr. Hoshido is beautiful, but I'm never going to be able to stroll into town for Spätzle and ale like I used to.
"But," he added, seeing the look on Ryoma's face, "I chose this. I chose to come here, to be with you, to make a life here. That's not nothing. I'm sure you know as well as anyone that grieving the past isn't productive. At some point, a person just has to move forward and forge a new path, right?"
Ryoma squeezed Silas's hand, just a little too warm from the tea.
"That's what I'll do. It's what I decided to do months ago. Of course I'll always miss the things I no longer have, but home isn't just where the past is. I have so many memories to make here, Ryoma. In this castle. In this country. With you. With – gods willing – our children."
"Children?"
Silas looked away, trying to hide the scarlet that crept into his cheeks. Ryoma chuckled. "Well, if this courtship goes well, you'll need an heir, won't you?"
Ryoma's smile was audible in his voice. "Children, plural?"
"...Perhaps I've thought about it." Utterly defeated.
A hand pulled Silas's chin back to face Ryoma. A warm smile met his eyes, and Ryoma kissed him softly before puckering his lips.
"Well, I was going to say something terribly charming, like, 'I'd be happy to provide such things for you, my love,' but unfortunately you taste like this wretched tea, and I've lost my train of thought."
"You're an ass," Silas laughed, taking another drink of his tea and kissing Ryoma's cheek, as if to torment him.
"Disgusting, it's even on your breath," Ryoma snorted. "I can't believe what I've gotten myself into."
Silas leaned against his shoulder, still giggling. "The sacrifices we make for love, hm?"
"Indeed."