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"Hmm," says the handsome fortune teller, looking down at the cards between himself and Camomile on the varnished table.
"I-Is something wrong?" Camomile asks, unable to tell the difference between each card. To her inexperienced eyes, all four look like the infamous Tower.
"Non," he replies cheerfully, adjusting his glasses. They've been enjoying a talk in Augustian this whole time, even if Camomile is a bit rusty thanks to it only being spoken by half her family. "If you look closely, you can see this Tower is raising his arms." Then, a little sheepish, he adds "It's meant to be an expression of joy. Your lover will be home in time, despite the recent storms!"
"I-I hope you're right. How can I repay you, Monsieur Lobelia?"
"This is a hobby," Lobelia reminds her with a smile. "Do you have any book recommendations concerning the sea, by any chance? That can be our fair trade."
"Oh! That seems fair, but...how did you know I was a librarian?"
Lobelia winks. "I'm afraid that's a trade secret. And, if I may...be careful walking through the streets alone, mademoiselle. You never know who might find you."
---
The next day, Camomile takes a deep breath, holds her Valentine's present tight, and shoulders her way through the giddy press of people on the airship dock to find the Grandcypher.
She's hardly surprised by the crowd⏤in fact, she's delighted so many are reuniting today⏤but it would be easier if she could spot Belial from a distance. After a few embarrassing moments of poking people with her horns, she squirms out again and opts to wait near the exit instead. The air is brisk and cool, bringing with it a sense of calm.
Someone squeezes through the crowd as well: a little orange dragon, who looks behind them with a hint of exasperation. "You better stay where I can see you, pervy angel!"
"Sheesh, Scaly, you're so aggressive today," complains the man Camomile's waiting for, looking none-too-pleased himself. "Haven't I been a good boy lately compared to 'your foe and mine'?"
"...Kinda. Hey, are you listening?!"
Belial's head is on a swivel, taking in the sights of Port Breeze with only a quarter of his attention if that. Then his eyes lock onto Camomile's, and he breaks into a stunning smile that nearly steals the strength from her knees.
"Um, hello," Camomile says nervously, limping toward him as fast as she can. "Welcome back, Belial." Despite having practiced that line a thousand times, she still sounds too excited to her ears.
He doesn't care, of course. His arms wrap her in a warm, welcome embrace that she's more than eager to return⏤even if she's forced on tiptoe and smacks him with her present in the process. "Hm?" He pulls away slightly and looks down to see what she's holding. "What's this?"
You obviously know what it is! She does her best to answer anyway. "Well. I-It's." She holds the hand-wrapped gift out to him like an offering. "Valentine!"
Giggling, Belial takes the gift and kisses her still-cupped palms for good measure. "It sure is." The look he gives her beneath his full lashes suggests he intends to repay her in kind, and soon. "Thank you, Cammy," he whispers against her skin.
The little dragon (Scaly?) floats over, looking incredulous. "This guy's real shady, and a perv too. Are you sure you've got the right⏤"
Belial straightens up and sneers at him. "It's not like she's your daughter, so simmer down." Then he looks back at Camomile and says gently "Oh, I haven't introduced you two."
"Hiya, I'm Vyrn!" says the little dragon before Belial can continue. "I'm Captain Djeeta's best bud. Who're you?"
Camomile's block clogs her throat, sending her mind into an anxious and self-hating spiral. No no no! Say it! It's just your name, you stupid⏤
"My darling wife Camomile," Belial says smoothly, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. "She's the shy type who works at the Port Breeze Library."
"Oh," says Vyrn, nodding in understanding. "Well, nice to meetcha anyway! ...Wait, wife? When did that happen?!"
Camomile stares up at Belial, at a loss for words. The more he smiles down at her in polite confusion, the more her face burns hot enough to make her sweat.
"'When'? Oh, right. Excuse us," Belial says, and before Camomile can say goodbye they're somehow at her cottage.
No, in her cottage, which would be fine if the next part of her Valentine's present wasn't a few rooms away. But more importantly⏤she's distracted by Belial opening the first part, humming to himself. He's still pressed in close to her, as if he doesn't want to leave her side for a long time yet.
"'To Belial, from Cammy'," he murmurs, still smiling. "Hmm? No sweets?"
Being in comfortable quiet finally prompts Camomile to move. "Well," she steels herself and snuggles into his arm, "I was thinking you'd prefer something else."
"Color me intrigued." His eyebrows shoot up. "Wait. Are you saying you're my present?"
"Well, not exactly. Just...come this way, please!"
She leads him into the kitchen without looking back. It's a safety measure: both to ensure she doesn't give away the surprise, and to avoid tripping in the dimly-lit room. She wanted it to feel as atmospheric and different as possible, so she drew the curtains and carefully set up small white candles everywhere that wouldn't catch fire, and lit them with light magic for good measure. On the counter lies an open recipe book and a long line of ingredients ready to be used. Since she didn't want Belial to worry, they're all within her budget, even the chocolate name plates.
"So you see," she says, shyly turning to look at a point above his head rather than risk seeing his disappointed face, "I was hoping we could make chocolates together. Um, is that alright?"
Belial leans down into her space like a willow tree, forcing her to look at his cheeky grin. "I have a question first. Are these obligatory chocolate, or chocolates from the heart?"
How dare he! She puffs her cheeks, indignant. "From the heart, obviously!"
"And they're only for me?"
"Well...I-I was hoping for..."
"So you'll eat some too?"
"Yes please!"
"Good, good." Then his grin turns into something more intimate and serious, turning her heart to jelly. "Sorry, but I have one last question. Have you visited a fortune teller lately?"
"Just yesterday, when I was worried you were lost in a storm." A terrible thought occurs to her. "Is Lobelia a fraud?"
Belial waves a hand awkwardly, as if to say "Yes, no, and maybe". "Let's just say he gives me the creeps, and I'm not even his type. I hope, anyway; talk about a rush job."
"I...see?"
"But enough about that guy." He waves his hand again, metaphorically shooing Lobelia away. "I'm glad you were honest with me, Cammy. That way I can give it to you without holding back."
Camomile covers her mouth in surprise. "Do you mean...?"
Perhaps it's not so surprising. Valentine's Day is a day of telling people how you feel, after all; it makes sense that Belial would want to buck tradition and give chocolate himself. It's a bit disappointing, after all her daydreams of baking together, but Belial's homemade chocolate is not a thing to miss. Or does he mean⏤her heart pounds⏤that?
"I love the lighting in here, and not just because you look good in it," Belial purrs, settling his hands on her hips and lifting her onto the kitchen table. "Stay right there, close your eyes, and let me look these over..."
After what feels like forever listening to the sounds of stirring and whirring and the bright clang of metal on metal, Belial returns bearing something sweet. "Can I look now, Belial?"
He nuzzles their noses together, and she can feel the bridge of his nose crinkle as he smiles. Pulls away. "Open your mouth instead. Good girls get a tasty surprise."
Blushing and giggling like an idiot (she can't help herself), Camomile does as her trusted lover says⏤and jolts a little at the feeling of something sweet and cool on her tongue. "Metal?" She asks after a tentative lick. "Oh, and...yum...whipped cream. 'S a beater," she manages through a sweet mouthful. Another, longer lick, this time eager to get at any cream dropping to the floor, delving between the beater's slats and not caring if her nose gets in the way.
"Bingo, you win the prize," Belial says, sounding more like he's about to die as he hands over the beater.
"Yum, thank'oo," she says, opening her eyes and holding the beater like a lollipop as she continues her unexpected job. Then, carefully easing off the table and walking over to the counter, "Can I read the recipe for you, Belial?"
"Oh? How very helpful of you, honey bunny." Belial leans down and kisses cream off her nose, laughing softly at whatever ridiculous expression is on her face. "You really did all this for me, huh."
"I could say the same of you," she replies as primly as she can while also feasting on whipped cream.
Belial looks at her for awhile, his lips slightly parted and his eyes glazed over with some pleasant daydream she can only guess at. "...We don't need to start baking right away, do we?"
Camomile gives a noncommittal shrug, too distracted by the dripping beater to think too hard. And then she's given a second distraction: Belial fishing the second beater out of the mouthwatering bowl of whipped cream, angling it with care, and sucking on the rounded sides.
"Oh, the vanilla extract was the perfect choice," he murmurs, his thick and beautiful lashes fluttering in ecstasy. His hand deftly turns the beater so he can mouth at another side, his pink tongue flicking out to snatch up a thick droplet before it falls. Moans softly.
The sights and sounds of this lewd display nearly do her in. "Belial, I..."
Belial's eyes open halfway, glowing with tender provocation. "What do you say we truly indulge tonight, Cammy? I'll accept all your guilty pleasures..."
The beater falls from her trembling hands and into the sink, leaving only a thin smear of white behind like a bridal train.