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It was a lucky coincidence, the crown relieving him of his duties while the royal seamstress was still in house.

The royal guard clutched the torn fabric of his dress uniform, the sash and belt thrown over the shoulder of his inner tunic while he made haste through the northwestern corridor, only returning passing servants’ bewildered and exasperated looks with an open mouthed grin.

“Um, sir—” a maid whose face he did not recognize began timidly, only to be waved off by another servant, an older girl with a knowing look on her face. He waved to both of them without breaking his stride.

His job was easy, compared to theirs. Even when he was rotated to the gates outside, the worst he ever had to endure were dour weather and boredom. He found the only skill he’d developed in training that he utilized in his daily work was the stamina to stand for several hours at a time, and he actually had to do extra training in his own quarters and on his own time to maintain his physique, since the occasion on which he attempted to do push-ups during gate duty earned him a scolding from one of the officers. The most amusement he was afforded was the chance to question irregular visitors to court, which occurred only a couple of times a day. All of this to say, his job was fretfully simple and uneventful. However, it was a real chore when he had to greet the royal seamstress as the latter arrived for fittings with the royal family, knowing he had at least five more hours until his duties at the gate would end.

He could only hope that the entire royal family was being fitted that day, because anything else would mean his duties would not end before the wardrobe master’s.

He rounded a corner where a servant was pushing a heavy cart of laundry and failed to notice where the burdened wheels had pulled up the edge of the rug, and he stumbled over it, nearly falling before he caught himself on a console table. Its wooden feet squeaked against the floor as his weight jostled it, and an unlit candle fell. Another servant poked her head out of the adjacent room and glared at him, while the servant with the laundry cart was apologizing. He laughed bashfully and placed the candle back in the candelabra.

“He’s in the room at the end of the hall,” the still glaring servant told him. “The princess retired to her private chambers. Please do not disturb her by causing another ruckus in the hallway.”

He thanked the servant and dashed off, mindful of his step this time.

As he neared the room at the end of the hall, he suddenly slowed his pace to a slow walk, cleared his throat, and tried to wrestle his features into a normal expression until he gave up on wiping the grin off his face. He stopped outside the closed door, raised his hand, and —

It opened.

“Oh. Kaelix.”

Freodore stood on the other side of the doorway, half a head shorter than Kaelix, his pale, pink eyes betraying no surprise and the tone of his voice as nonplussed as a gardener seeing vegetables in his garden. He held an ornate wooden chest in his arms that Kaelix knew contained various sewing equipment, like pins and tape and… Kaelix actually possessed no knowledge of sewing tools. Not a hair on his head was out of place, none of his amethyst accessories askew. No observable evidence that he had worked for five hours present.

Caught unawares by the door opening before he could knock, Kaelix went still for just a moment before he recollected himself. “Sir Freodore! I hope everything went well with the fittings… for the… ah…” He scratched the back of his neck. No one had mentioned any event in the palace that he could imagine would require a new wardrobe for the entire family.

“The winter solstice ball.” Freodore’s gaze flicked to Kaelix’s half state of undress, then to the topcoat in his hands. He sighed. “Incredible how you manage to damage your uniform while doing nothing all day. Give it to me.”

Kaelix handed Freodore his tattered topcoat. “I’ll have you know, it’s tough work, protecting the crown.”

He trailed Freodore back into the room, a small, sparsely decorated room furnished with only a sewing table and shelves of all colors of fabric. “You didn’t receive the royal family in here, did you?”

Freodore cut him a withering glance as he set his wooden chest and Kaelix’s uniform on top of the table. “The royal family received me in the fitting rooms.” He spread out Kaelix’s uniform across the table and surveyed the damage, his thin hands smoothing over the fabric. “Another clean rip at the seam. This should be an easy mend.”

Kaelix flushed, remembering the time his uniform had been torn in the bust and required darning, and Freodore had told him he was lucky the crown planned to update the design of the guards’ summer dress uniforms next year. It had taken him longer to mend than usual.

Behind Freodore, the windows trembled in the whistling wind. Kaelix leaned a hip against the table while Freodore worked, the latter’s lithe figure bent over Kaelix’s uniform. His eyes traced the lines of Freodore’s fingers as they gripped and pinched and worked across the topcoat’s broken seam, right where the garment would rest against Kaelix’s ribcage, if he were wearing it. They rose to brush a lock of seafoam green hair that had fallen in front of Freodore’s eyes.

Eyes that were suddenly looking up at Kaelix expectantly.

Kaelix blinked, then laughed nervously. “Apologies, wardrobe master. Uh, what was that?”

Somehow, Freodore’s eyes always had a glint to them that said he knew exactly what Kaelix was thinking, which was probably true. He definitely knew that Kaelix did not see nearly enough action to need his uniform to be mended every month.

“I asked,” Freodore said slowly, like Kaelix was an idiot, “what grievous task made you require my services this time?”

Kaelix’s eyes drifted back to the way Freodore’s fingers pushed the needle through the thick fabric of his autumn dress uniform, as if they had their own magnetic pull. “Uh… you know. The royal grind. The royal guard grind. It’s been a really busy month, a lot of people coming in and out of the palace, I even got to detain a merchant last week…”

Freodore never interrupted when Kaelix started rambling like that, never hummed or nodded or looked up or showed any indication that he was listening, but Kaelix knew he was.

“You know, he came to try and sell some kind of age reversal elixir to the king, as if His Majesty needs it. So I did the honorable thing and detained him for questioning.”

This time, Freodore did look up, and he raised an eyebrow. “And he did… this?” He gestured at Kaelix’s topcoat.

Well, no. Kaelix did it on his way to the room he was currently standing in. “I—I’ll have you know, he was a real nasty guy! Probably served another crown’s army, if you ask me. But he was no match for me, of course. Hahaha. Ah…”

Freodore stood then, once again smoothing Kaelix’s uniform out on the table to examine his work. Kaelix could almost feel every touch of Freodore’s palm to the bust of his uniform and – and he was becoming jealous of his own clothing.

“I mean, he gave it a good shot, I’ll grant him that. A beastly guy, at least two heads taller than me—” he was not. “—and with two giant boulders for hands—” he had no such thing. “—he fought hard!—” he did not. “—but, of course, like I said, he was no match for me.” That, at least, was true, for the merchant was nearly seventy years old.

“Sounds like you protected us all from a monster.” Freodore folded the uniform, then proffered it to Kaelix, who tried very mightily not to gasp when their hands brushed against each other, and then said quite possibly the most devastating thing he could say in that moment. “Well done, big guy.”

Kaelix’s jaw went slack at the praise and he was unable to do anything other than let out a pathetic, high pitched noise from his throat as Freodore repacked his supplies and strode from the room. Right before he disappeared out of the door, he turned his head back slightly toward Kaelix and said, “Glory to the crown.”

By the time Kaelix found his voice again, it was far too late to return the salutation.

The old hinges on the door to Kaelix’s sleeping quarters whined as he threw himself against it and sank to the floor.

“Oh my god,” he said. “Oh my god.”

His mind kept twisting and curling around the words Freodore had spoken to him in that quiet, dangerous voice of his. It was as though Freodore had no inkling of what he was doing to Kaelix, only he had to know, because there was nothing Kaelix knew that Freodore did not already know.

The stiff fabric of his autumn dress uniform still clutched in his hands, Kaelix dragged himself to his bed and buried his face in his pillow and finally unleashed the scream that had been building in his throat since Freodore had arrived at the palace early that afternoon. 

Kaelix had stood frozen in the room after Freodore left for nearly a quarter hour, and he only left when one of the older servants passed by the open doorway and barked at him to leave. He stomped all the way back to the guards’ quarters, cursing himself for not having the gumption or wherewithal to at least return the flirtation. Unless it wasn’t a flirtation, after all. Maybe, perhaps, it was possible that Freodore was actually making light of him. It would be far from the first time. As the royal seamstress, Freodore’s station was demonstrably higher than Kaelix’s own, and it would be remiss to flirt with a mere guard. One of the knights, that would be more appropriate, but Kaelix was far and away from attaining knighthood. Unless, that is, Freodore’s intent was to goad Kaelix into flirting with him so he could report Kaelix to the crown for lechery.

And Freodore did make him feel like a lecherous fool. He could scarcely reply to any remarks Freodore made without his gaze being drawn anywhere but where they had the right to be. The lips that hid a sharp tongue, the sliver of neck that wasn’t concealed by a high collar, the long, steady fingers that held a needle, that pressed themselves into the thick, grey fabric of Kaelix’s uniform…

Kaelix released a groan into his pillow. Freodore would be the death of him.

He absolutely had to see him again.

Fortunately, his next opportunity to see Freodore came quickly, and there was no need to sabotage his own uniform to facilitate the encounter. Kaelix had been assigned to the gardens, an easy station that he gathered was either reserved for the most favored guards or the least competent guards. Considering how his day would go, he could easily be both.

Rather than being stationed at the palace-side entrance to the gardens, Kaelix’s post for the day was along the far wall. No trespasser was likely to be able to climb the inner wall, much less the outer wall that lay beyond the garden walls, but if anyone did, they would be counting on the guards not taking their post seriously. And Kaelix would not be one of those guards!

On his side of the gardens, he had the pleasure of watching the multicolored fish in the pond. The princess was fond of fish, so the crown had ordered an artificial pond to be constructed in the palace gardens, along with several species of domestic fish. Their scales shimmered under the water’s surface in the midday sun, weaving through the greenery at the bottom of the pond. White, blue, and yellow wildflowers dotted the edges of the pond and kept company the mature wisteria whose branches fell over a part of the pond like a cloak. Kaelix heard that Seible, one of the senior assistants working for the seneschal, had spent several weeks overseeing the construction of the pond, now a beautiful, glimmering landmark in the gardens.

Kaelix stood with his back against the old tree, allowing himself to enjoy the scenery and the quiet moment to himself. The afternoon was still young, and he was only an hour or so into his post. A single robin had flown down from the inner wall to bathe in a shallow part of the pond less than a meter away from Kaelix. It splashed around on the bank, then stopped when Kaelix yawned, its grey and canary colored head looking up at him.

“Hello, feathered friend,” Kaelix said, squatting down.

It cocked its head and hopped toward him hesitantly. He held out a gloved hand and it gandered closer. He waited until it got close enough for him to stroke a finger over its head, chuckling when it chirped and pecked at his hand. “Having a little wash by the pond? Long morning assassinating worms? Do those fish look tasty? You probably think they look really tasty in there.”

“A robin’s diet does not include fish.”

Kaelix started, nearly falling on his back as the robin flew away. He looked up, and standing on the other side of the garden rocks was Freodore. The heels on Freodore’s boots clicked on the stone pathway as he rounded the pond to where Kaelix was still on his haunches. His fringe bounced slightly and a silver pin in his hair caught the afternoon sunlight.

Kaelix grinned up at him. “I didn’t even hear you approaching! Are you secretly a spy, wardrobe master?”

He then noticed that Freodore had not his usual equipment with him, but instead a crisp, maroon leather bag in the shape of a tome. The delicate fingers of one hand were curled loosely around the strap. 

In regular Freodore fashion, he did not acknowledge Kaelix’s puerile accusation. Instead, he sat down on the grass only a few paces away from Kaelix, and removed a book of paper from his bag.

“I’ll have you know, I wasn’t slacking off. I take my post very seriously.” The only indication Freodore was paying him any mind that Kaelix could perceive was a twitch of the ear. “I know a lot of the men don’t take this post seriously, they just see it as a vacation, but that’s exactly the kind of attitude our enemies are counting on. It just takes one weak link and suddenly there’s an intruder in the palace. So I take this post very seriously! You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Haha, off guard.”

Finally, Freodore angled his head toward Kaelix so he could catch his full, unimpressed look.

Kaelix only laughed and carried on. “It’s nice to be assigned outside sometimes. Although, on days like this, I wonder if the seneschal switched us guards to the autumn dress too early. It gets hot in this uniform, sometimes, especially out here in the sun. I mean, the old tree provides good shade, but the guards on the gates have no reprieve from the heat.”

Freodore raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying my design isn’t weather friendly?”

A choked noise came out of Kaelix. “Of course not! Your design is perfect. You’re the designer after all, I’m just a lowly guard. Heheh.”

Freodore hummed, tracing a hand over the parchment in his lap. “Without guards, we would have no protection.”

Kaelix blinked.

“Your job is just as important is mine. If my work makes it difficult for you to do your job, then I’ve failed.”

The way Freodore spoke was so sincere, that while Kaelix had known him to prevaricate on occasion, he believed him. He unfastened the belt around his topcoat and shrugged it off his shoulders, assuring himself that the intense focus Freodore had on him was only related to his own workmanship.

“Well,” Kaelix started, “the topcoat’s nice for night shifts and early morning rotations, when there’s getting to be a bit of frost on the ground. But most days, it traps in too much heat, and it even gets stuffy indoors. Obviously, it’s not possible to take off our topcoat on duty—" Kaelix flushed, and his neck felt hot even with just his light inner tunic. “—other than right now, because I’m demonstrating a point to our master of the wardrobe.”

Freodore hummed in a tone that suggested for Kaelix to continue.

“So, the night and morning duties have been a hot commodity as of recently. They’re the most comfortable, since it gets a bit brisk at night and we can just get snuggled up in our nice coat.”

“’Get snuggled up’?”

“Of course!” Kaelix put a hand to his heart. “Even guards snuggle. Well, not each other. Not on duty, at least. But when you have 4 a.m. duty and it’s a little colder every morning, it’s nice to have the thicker topcoat. It’s like being hugged.”

“I see.”

“It would be nice if we were allowed to switch to the summer dress at the end of the morning shift and to the autumn dress at the end of the day shift, but the guardmaster won’t allow it. It would be a bit of a pain in the neck to have to spend part of our mealtime backtracking to our quarters to change, anyway. Haha.”

Freodore suddenly closed his book and stowed it back in his bag, and Kaelix panicked as he scrambled to stand at the same time as Freodore. “I didn’t mean to offend! It’s a beautiful uniform, really, I like it a lot, no, I love it, actually—”

Kaelix only then realized how tall Freodore’s heels were, because their noses were nearly touching.

“Oh,” Kaelix said. “You grew.”

They had never been so physically close to each other before, usually an appropriate, modest amount of space padding them at all times, but now. Now, Kaelix could scarcely think .

He made no attempt to make space between them.

“It’s the heels,” Freodore said.

Freodore, too, made no attempt to make space between them.

“Yeah.” Kaelix’s voice came out like a wisp. “Uh.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Oh.” Kaelix sighed in relief.

“I’ll take your comments into consideration. Thank you, Kaelix.”

His breath was so warm. Kaelix was glad Freodore’s breath was there to keep the inside of his lips warm.

“Anytime. Uh.”

Maybe Kaelix could keep the outside of his lips warm.

“Kaelix.”

Yes, that seemed like a good idea. 

“Yes, Freodore?”

He should probably lean in.

“I have to go back to my workshop.”

Ah.

Ah. Ah .

“Ah.”

Kaelix took a step back and cleared his throat. “Yes. I wouldn’t want to keep you. And I should probably focus on watch. Wouldn’t want any intruders to slip past me because I’m…” Staring at the wardrobe master’s lips. Thinking about how the wardrobe master’s lips would feel against his own. Thinking about the wardrobe master’s hands and how they might come up to cup Kaelix’s face while they locked lips, or grip the collar of his uniform, or slide into his hair. In public. While Kaelix was on duty.

Kaelix cleared his throat again and saluted. He tried not to focus on the slightly pitying set to Freodore’s mouth. “Glory to the crown, wardrobe master.”

“Glory to the crown, Kaelix.”

And Kaelix watched him leave, until the click of his heels on the path faded.

As it would happen, Kaelix saw quite a bit of Freodore over the next several weeks. Freodore returned to the palace to do additional fittings for the ball attire the royal family required and to show them his revised designs. Luckily for Kaelix, the king was quite picky and continuously requested alterations. Of course, he felt bad for Freodore, who had to return every few days to refit the king, but it meant Kaelix could see him more.

Unfortunately for Kaelix, however, he was unable to catch Freodore alone in those weeks. Freodore was so busy with the king that Kaelix couldn’t find it in himself to fabricate a reason to need Freodore’s services, lest he add to Freodore’s already enormous workload and give him reasons to despise Kaelix.

They exchanged salutations when Freodore arrived and when he departed, because Kaelix went to painstaking lengths to ensure he was near the palace doors or the gates on days Freodore was there, and when Freodore left the palace early they were able to have a conversation, albeit in the company of others. Kaelix had also caught Freodore’s eyes lingering in his direction on one occasion. But that was the extent of most of their exchanges.

Still, it was enough to convince Kaelix that he had not completely embarrassed himself and his bloodline by mooning over Freodore that day in the palace gardens.

There was one late evening, when Freodore had not retired from the palace until after dining with the royal family, and Kaelix was once again on gate duty. His post was at the inner gate, which meant only one other guard was posted with him. Vantacrow, a guard a few years older than Kaelix who was friendly, funny, and got the job done. Not that there was much of a job to do.

Only a slip of the sun remained above the horizon, and Kaelix and Vanta had been on their feet for several hours by then. Conversation between the two of them dwindled as they tired, and Kaelix took to counting the stones in the levy by the moat in front of them. He did this aloud, until Vanta politely requested for him to please shut up, after which he did it in his head.

Freodore emerged from the double doors, his two assistants behind him with supplies in tow. The corner of his lips were downturned, and one of the crests on his chest was out of place. It was, bewilderingly, the most disheveled Kaelix had ever seen him.

“Wardrobe master,” Kaelix greeted. His heartbeat did stutter when Freodore’s weary eyes turned to him. “You look very beautiful tonight. Also, if I may say so, one of your stars is crooked.”

Over Freodore’s head, Vanta smiled lopsidedly. “Way to talk to a guy.”

“Shut up, Vanta. Respectfully, of course,” he quickly added. Vanta was his senior, after all.

Freodore glanced down at himself, and his eyes lit up as though he didn’t believe any part of his outfit would be out of place. “Oh. Thank you, Kaelix.”

Kaelix beamed at him, because if everyone was going to be tired, then Kaelix could have all the energy for himself and Freodore. “Y’know, it’s been a pretty long day. Hectic day. Would love to get off my feet. But by the stars, you are a sight for sore eyes.”

A strangled sound came from somewhere beyond Freodore, likely one of his assistants, since Vanta was chuckling and shaking his head, but Kaelix ignored them in favor of the way Freodore actually averted his eyes away from Kaelix and did a tiny shuffle of his feet. If only the sun hadn’t set, there would be light enough to see Freodore’s first blush for Kaelix. 

Freodore met Kaelix’s eyes for only a brief second, then huffed, a short, frustrated sound. “Good night, Kaelix.”

He nodded to his assistants, then walked off. Kaelix watched him with a fool’s grin. Not once did Freodore steal another look back, but Kaelix was satisfied. He sighed and let his back hit the stone wall behind him. “He’s so pretty.”

It was one grey afternoon when the seneschal sent Kaelix into town.

On any normal day, the seneschal would have no word in Kaelix’s duties. That power typically rested solely with the guardmaster. However, on that fateful afternoon, a housekeeping mishap of some nature or another resulted in the seneschal ordering one of his hands to procure things from the shops. Naturally, to ensure Seible’s safe and timely return, the seneschal ordered the nearest guard – Kaelix – to accompany him.

“We aren’t going to get mixed up in any funny business, okay, Kae-chan?” Seible said, clearly trying to sound firm, but Kaelix had difficulty taking him seriously when he spoke in that high-pitched simper of his.

“What are you telling me for? Did the seneschal not send me to ensure you wouldn’t get distracted?”

“Well, yes,” Seible said. “But he isn’t aware—oh, never mind. Let’s hurry.”

Kaelix strolled out of the palace grounds alongside Seible, excited for the rare variance in his duties. The servants under the seneschal frequently made trips out of the palace while they were on duty, but the guards, seeing as their purpose was to guard, rarely ventured off of the grounds except on their free days, and occasionally their free nights. There were city guards, of course, but they came from the city watch, rather than the palace guards’ rotation.

He enjoyed Seible’s company. They occasionally played cards at the bar that many palace employees frequented due to its proximity to the palace, and Seible was lively, if a bit mischievous, and easy to get along with. He was popular, too, if the way drunk off-duty guards tripped over themselves to talk to him whenever he sat by the bar was any indication.

While the two walked side by side toward the city square, Kaelix took in the sights around him and wondered what Freodore was like when he wasn’t at the palace on official business. Which reminded him, he never had the chance to ask Freodore what he was doing at court on the day they saw each other in the palace gardens. He hadn’t had any of his usual equipment with him, so it was unlikely related to the royal family’s wardrobe. Then again, as part of court, Freodore was free to enter freely. Maybe he simply liked the palace gardens.

“What did the seneschal need us to get, anyway?” Kaelix felt a bit like a child, following Seible mindlessly when he was supposed to be the escort.

“Oh,” Seible said. “You didn’t hear? Some poor servant used the wrong laundry solution and ruined an entire batch of servants’ uniforms, so we need to replace them before the palace starts smelling like dirty laundry.”

“Makes sense. So, we’re going to the—” He cut himself off, his thoughts stuttering as it dawned on him, and he nearly stumbled on the cobblestone.

“Hmm. Yes, we’re going to visit the wardrobe master’s workshop.”

Kaelix had never been to Freodore’s workshop, and neither did he know before that day where Freodore’s workshop was. He knew, of course, that Freodore didn’t work out of the palace, as he’d preferred to retain his current workspace when he became the new wardrobe master. He used the old wardrobe master’s workshop and fitting rooms when at the palace, though the wardrobe master’s sleeping quarters remained vacant. 

Freodore’s workshop was a deep, single story building on a quiet street devoid of many people. A few flowerbeds lined the storefront, brightening the dark, stone building with a variety of red, pink, and yellow flowers. The door was unmarked, and the building lacked even a sign, though Kaelix imagined most people knew what it was.

Perhaps sensing Kaelix’s nervous excitement, Seible took the initiative of pushing through the heavy iron door.

“Furi!” Seible sang out into the workshop.

The wardrobe master’s workshop was the picture of organized chaos. Spools of thread lined the wall in dozens of colors, many of which Kaelix recognized as the colors of the crown, matching his uniform and the knights’ uniforms, and congregated with same-colored fabric on multiple tables and stools. The floor was mostly clear, except for a pile of rolls of fabric here and there. A large, square table took up the middle of the back half of the workshop, with a meter perimeter of walking space around it. As Seible and Kaelix ventured closer, Kaelix could make out the blueprints on one corner of the table, next to a loosely-organized array of tools: a ruler, a couple rolls of measuring tape, a few quills, an inkpot, and several pieces of chalk that matched the color of the chalky fingerprints that littered the surface of the table.

When Kaelix started to think that he and Seible had come when Freodore wasn’t there, Freodore emerged from a door to the side that Kaelix hadn’t noticed. Kaelix’s heart jumped at the sight of him and the look of surprise that briefly overtook Freodore’s features.

“How can I help you?”

While Seible explained the situation to Freodore, Kaelix’s eyes swept over Freodore’s body. He couldn’t help but notice that Freodore’s usual high-collared, grey coat was gone, instead leaving just a white silk shirt and the shiny, black gloves that stopped just above his elbows. To Kaelix’s dismay, the shirt was just as modest as his jacket, showing absolutely no skin below his neck. However, after a short conversation, Freodore promptly nodded and strode to a cabinet somewhere on the wall behind Kaelix. As soon as his back came into view, Kaelix gasped, taking in the slit down the back of Freodore’s collar that exposed tiny slivers of skin as Freodore’s back twisted this way and the other.

Just as Kaelix tried to imagine what the whole expanse of that skin under the smooth, silky fabric would look and feel like, Seible shoved an elbow into his ribs. “Yes,” he said, unthinking.

The rascal that Seible was, he squinted up at Kaelix and folded his arms. “Yes? What did I just say then, Kae?” 

“You said it’s a presage for the kingdom that we have such a talented, hardworking, and stylish wardrobe master.”

Only sighs and rolls of the eyes from the two men. “The crown should promote you to jester, Kae-chan.” Seible shoved at Kaelix’s shoulder, and Kaelix shot back, “The whole court would roll with laughter if they had me as jester!”

“The crown kills jesters who don’t make the king laugh, and I don’t think His Majesty will be laughing in your presence any time soon,” Seible said. “Right, Furi-chan?”

Even though it was a very Seible habit to call others by names other than their full name or title, Kaelix half-expected Freodore to tell him off for calling him Furi-chan. However, Freodore simply rolled his eyes, reapproaching them with a pile of uniforms in his arms. “Kaelix can be amusing on occasion.”

“On occasion?” Kaelix exclaimed, accepting the uniforms without prompting. “Why, that’s more than rarely!”

“I only had ten in my stock,” Freodore told Seible. “We can make more, but it will take a few days.”

Seible eyed the bundle of uniforms in Kaelix’s arms. “I think this will do for now. Thank you, Furi-chan! You’re a lifesaver!”

Then, to Kaelix’s surprise, Seible threw both arms around Freodore’s neck in what seemed like a very familiar embrace. And to his even bigger surprise, Freodore returned it.

His brain ran rampant then, barely registering Seible and Freodore’s goodbyes, and almost forgetting to say goodbye to Freodore when he and Seible departed. He vaguely noticed the way Freodore’s gaze seemed to stay on him as he escorted Seible and Kaelix to the door, and the way his eyes kept darting to his shoulders and going slightly dark before clearing again. If his mind weren’t otherwise preoccupied, he would pick that apart and examine it – no, he would unravel it and wrap it around himself, he would live in it, in the memory of Freodore’s eyes on him. But he had something else to ponder.

He felt as though each encounter he had with Freodore softened Freodore to him. After all, Freodore seemed the kind who would tell Kaelix to leave him alone, if that was what he wanted. And yet, whenever Kaelix called his name or title, Freodore granted him his full attention, even if only for a moment. He did so for most people, even those beneath his station, which was something Kaelix admired of him. He had heard and witnessed Freodore entertaining the ramblings of just about anyone, waiting politely for others to stop speaking before giving a response. He was the kind, thoughtful, beloved wardrobe master.

Perhaps because Kaelix’s interactions with Freodore thus far had been, by and large, just the two of them, it had escaped Kaelix’s mind that there were other people who knew Freodore. There were people who knew him not just as the wardrobe master, but as Freodore. Maybe they weren’t overly close or familiar, but considering Freodore’s private nature, they likely knew him better than most. However, the kind of person Kaelix imagined who would be party to Freodore’s inner world would be someone similar to him in nature. Someone who could give to Freodore what he so generously gave to others. Someone quiet, reserved, but sharp. And Kaelix… was none of those things.

After Kaelix’s pseudo-revelation from visiting Freodore’s workshop, he decided to take a step back from his relentless admiration of the wardrobe master. Instead of the heavy compliments he used to immediately lay on Freodore when they encountered one another, he merely nodded and gave his salutations. Occasionally, he commented on the weather.

Freodore was still coming to the palace to duties, and it seemed that as of late, he made an appearance at court every day. He often came alone, too; Kaelix assumed he didn’t want to subject his assistants to the same hours as himself. Kaelix worried for him, and wished for the solstice to come soon so Freodore could have a break.

One morning in October, Kaelix was lounging in the room that guards typically retired to during their short breaks with a number of other guards who also had no assigned duty that morning, but decided not to go back to bed after receiving the day’s duties. He and a few guards had a deck of cards, and one of them, Luca, was showing them a couple of magic tricks around the table.

He was so engrossed in trying to work out the machinations of what Luca was doing that he failed to notice the footsteps approaching from the hall until a couple of the other guards all looked to the doorway. He followed their gazes, then nearly fell out of his seat.

“Greetings to the wardrobe master,” a guard by the canteen said.

Freodore nodded a greeting back, but his eyes were on Kaelix. Kaelix had to stop himself from squirming in his seat at the way Freodore’s eyes pinned him down.

“The guardmaster told me I could find off-duty guards here. I require assistance with something.” One of the guards at the table with Kaelix opened his mouth, presumably to volunteer, but Freodore spoke again. “Kaelix. Follow me.”

Before Kaelix could reply, Freodore spun on his heel and walked back out of the room. Kaelix jumped out of his chair, uncaring for the way the legs screeched against the floor, and clambered after him.

“We’re going to the wardrobe master’s workroom,” Freodore said when Kaelix caught up with him.

“Okay,” Kaelix said. “Do you need help with some heavy boxes or something?”

“Or something,” Freodore replied ominously.

Kaelix attempted to engage Freodore in small talk while they weaved through the corridors of the palace, only to be rebuffed every time. He wondered, not for the first time but for the first time in many weeks, if he’d done something to offend Freodore.

They made their way back to the room where Kaelix had sought out Freodore to mend his uniform that last time, Kaelix feeling like a kicked dog, and as Freodore unlocked the door, he said, “I apologize if I’m not very talkative. I’ve been preoccupied.”

Kaelix grinned a lopsided grin. “Boy troubles, wardrobe master?”

Freodore shouldered the door open with a tad too much force for an unlocked door, unflinching when the doorknob hit the wall. “Be quiet.”

Kaelix stalled in the open doorway for a moment while Freodore walked to the table, where an array of materials were scattered across the surface, as it did not escape him that this was the first time he and Freodore were interacting because Freodore specifically sought him out.

“I’m designing a new autumn dress uniform for the guards,” Freodore said. “I’ve made a prototype, but I need to see it on someone before I make further alterations and finalize the design.

“You’re designing a new…”

“Autumn dress uniform. Yes.” Freodore held out a stack of folded garments in the crown’s grey. “Please change.”

Kaelix glanced around the room. “Um, here?”

“Yes.” Freodore’s tone brokered no argument. “I’ll be right back.”

Freodore left Kaelix alone in the workroom, staring down at the garments in his hands. He set them down on the table and quickly stripped off his uniform, worried Freodore would come back and see Kaelix in indecent dress. He’d intended to keep his inner tunic, but realized when he picked up the topcoat that Freodore had also provided him an inner tunic, so he took that off, as well.

He wondered if Freodore had really designed a new autumn uniform just because Kaelix had said the current one was too hot in the daytime. He wasn’t sure what could even be done, other than switching from the summer uniform later in the season to account for the warmer autumns. But the notion of Freodore in his workshop, cutting and stitching fabric and buttons and tassels with Kaelix in mind sent a wave of heat through his spine. 

A sharp knock on the door came right as Kaelix fastened the last buckle on his boots, and he called out to Freodore that he could come back in.

“How does it feel?” Freodore snatched a measuring tape and a pin cushion from the table.

“The inner tunic is really nice on the skin. It feels like linen?”

Freodore hummed. “Yes. The inner tunic you have right now is thicker and keeps heat, which I believe was contributing to making you feel hot during the day.”

“And the topcoat is different too.”

“I didn’t want to make the topcoat lighter, because it will still be necessary during the colder autumn months, and on cold nights. But I wanted a design that would allow guards to have some relief from the heat on hotter, sunny days.” The hand that wasn’t holding his tools gestured to the front line of buttons along either side of the bust of Kaelix’s topcoat, millimeters away from Kaelix but not quite touching. “You can remove this thicker top layer when it’s too warm. It can be left in your quarters or draped over the back of the topcoat by these buttons near the lapels, kind of like a short cavalier cape.”

Warmth spread across Kaelix’s cheeks as he unbuttoned the topcoat layer, even though he knew he would still be fully clothed underneath, because it looked and felt like he was undressing for Freodore. When he removed the thicker outer layer, what was left was the same design visually, but indeed felt lighter.

“You have to fold it correctly to look proper,” Freodore said, taking it from Kaelix, “and make sure these two button holes are lined up so they can attach here.” He folded two corners of the fabric together to make a sort of pentagonal shape, then fastened them to a button high on Kaelix’s chest. Kaelix wanted to grasp Freodore’s wrist and turn his hand so that his palm would fully press against Kaelix’s breast, but he settled for the way Freodore was standing so close to him that if either of them took a full, deep breath, their chests would brush up against one another.

Freodore draped the fabric over Kaelix back, his other hand moving to push Kaelix’s other shoulder and turn him around. As soon as his back was to Freodore, Kaelix bit his lip to suppress a groan at the way Freodore was handling him like a mannequin. “It rests a bit higher than I expected. Your shoulders are larger than I accounted for.”

A hand suddenly gripped Kaelix’s shoulder and squeezed, and Kaelix was unable to suppress the sharp intake of breath at the firm touch. The hands on him faltered for a moment, but didn’t disappear.

“It doesn’t seem tight at the shoulders, though, so that’s good.” The hand on his shoulder blades disappeared, and then returned, Freodore taking a measurement of how far down his back the fabric draped.

“Yep, not tight at all,” Kaelix managed to say, just so Freodore wouldn’t be suspicious of his uncharacteristic lack of things to say.

Behind him, the sound of a quill on paper gave him a moment to recollect his senses now that Freodore wasn’t touching him. He was just helping Freodore. Freodore took his complaints about the autumn dress uniform seriously because he took his work seriously, and as the complainant, Kaelix was the obvious model. Maybe this meant they were kind of friends, now. They had graduated from friendly acquaintances in a one-sided flirtationship to friends. Would Freodore ask for his help again after making a round of alterations? To check the final product?

Those hands returned. “I’m going to mark the places where I need to take it in. I’m using pins, so stand still or I’ll poke you.”

Kaelix tried to stay as still as possible while Freodore pinned spots where the fabric was too loose or too long. While he worked, Freodore muttered to himself quietly, obviously comments not meant for Kaelix but just remarks on his own work. He examined Kaelix’s shoulders, pulling and pinching the fabric, perhaps still debating whether he liked the fit. But as what must have been several long minutes passed, Kaelix felt like Freodore was just aimlessly palming his own work, his face scrunched together in what didn’t appear to be work-related focus. Finally, after a few more minutes of this, Freodore spoke.

“Do you…” he started, and if it weren’t for the trepidation in his voice and the bothered expression on his pretty face, Kaelix might have thought he was going to ask for another of Kaelix’s wardrobe opinions.

Instead of urging him on, Kaelix waited patiently, until Freodore’s hands stopped.

“Do you prefer to be called Kaelix?”

Kaelix blinked. “Sorry?”

Freodore’s eyebrows furrowed as he resolutely did not lift his head and restarted his measurements. “I noticed, when you came to my workshop. Seible called you ‘Kae.’ Is that how you prefer to be addressed?”

Kaelix didn’t respond, because he genuinely did not understand the direction of this questioning, but this seemed to frustrate Freodore further.

“Forget it,” he said, his voice quieter even than its normal volume.

Once again, Kaelix felt like he had said the wrong thing, but this time, he hadn’t spoken. He hurried to rectify this, his own feelings be damned, because he couldn’t stand the dejection that had cracked through Freodore’s usually tightly-controlled features. “You can call me Kae or Kae-chan if you want,” he said slowly. “But I like the way you say my name.”

Freodore’s eyes flicked up to Kaelix’s, and the split second of surprise that Kaelix saw in them, of vulnerability… Kaelix was finally beginning to understand.

“I really don’t care what Seible calls me, dear wardrobe master,” Kaelix said, forcing himself not to break eye contact, even though the way that Freodore was looking up at him was accelerating his heartbeat to a dangerous, lethal pace. He swallowed, and Freodore was the one to break eye contact so he could trace the movement in Kaelix’s neck. This gave Kaelix the courage he needed to continue, “I only care about you.”

Freodore’s eyes returned then to his, searching. Then he blinked, and their previous vulnerability was gone, shuttered away as the controlled, intent expression Kaelix had come to associate with Freodore took over, but Kaelix didn’t feel as though he had misstepped this time. He felt he had clicked something into place, and this something was new, but not bad at all. Not charged with the uncomfortable, awkward tension they’d slipped into because of Kaelix in the preceding few weeks, but not the carefree, flippant energy from before, either. This felt like the crackling energy of two people who were finally on the exact same page.

With no further conversation had, Freodore returned to studying his prototype uniform, this time seeming much more at ease, the tension in his shoulders and clench of his jaw gone. Kaelix, too, felt lighter now. The soft, steady roll of Freodore’s mumbling calmed him, was easy to focus on as he allowed his mind to drift away and let Freodore do what he needed to do.

Kaelix gasped at the first touch of Freodore’s hand to his chest. He tried to cover it with a cough, then a laugh that sounded more nervous than nonchalant.

“Was this all a ruse to feel my body, wardrobe master? You could have just asked nicely. Or not nicely at all.”

“Be quiet,” Freodore huffed, but there was no bite to the admonishment this time. “And don’t call me that.”

“What, ‘wardrobe master’?”

“I don’t call you ‘guard,’ do I?”

Kaelix laughed, half incredulously, half as a way to distract himself from the way Freodore’s hands were running down and gripping his arms. “Well, I’m not of a station like yours—”

Freodore squeezed around Kaelix’s biceps, and even though Kaelix didn’t know very much about making clothes, he felt like this amount of fondling of the mannequin was strictly not necessary.

“We’re of the same station, Kaelix. Live or die, we both serve the crown.”

Kaelix could agree with that, he realized. “So, what should I call you, then? Just Freodore?”

“Whatever you’d like. As long as it’s not my title.” He started on the pants, folding and unfolding the cuffs, pinching the inseam, examining the way the fabric sat. Luckily, Freodore was kneeling behind him, because he felt like the mere act of the prim and gorgeous Freodore kneeling in front of him would be akin to blasphemy, and would also make for a very compromising position if anyone else were to enter.

“Okay, so… Does that mean I can call you Furi-chan?” 

“Whatever you’d like,” Freodore repeated, though he didn’t sound particularly moved.

“Hm. Then what about… Furifuri?” Freodore didn’t respond, but when Kaelix looked behind him, he could see that the tips of his ears were growing pink. His lips curled into a smirk. “You liked that, didn’t you!”

Freodore huffed again and reached up to shove Kaelix by the shoulder back into his previous position facing away from Freodore. Kaelix giggled, noting to himself that Freodore looked just like a harmless, grumpy hedgehog like this.

“If it pleases you,” Freodore said.

“Oh, it pleases me.” Kaelix giggled again, then sang, “Furifuri~”

Freodore’s fingers pressed into the meat of his thigh, and all of the breath left Kaelix’s lungs in a mortifyingly high gasp. “Apologies,” Freodore said. “I lost my balance for a moment.”

The playful lie surprised Kaelix. “I don’t think you’re sorry at all!”

“Hmm.” The sound of the measuring tape hitting the table made Kaelix look over his shoulder, where Freodore had stood and was packing his tools back into his bag. He turned back to Kaelix, eyes darkening when he caught Kaelix’s gaze flitting up from far below where the back of his head would have been. He clicked his tongue. “You’re right. I’m not sorry at all. And something tells me you aren’t, either.”

He took a step closer to Kaelix, and Kaelix met him in the middle, turning around so the tips of their boots almost touched. The scent of the fragrance Freodore must have worn just for him – because he’d never smelled a scent on Freodore before – was smoky, a little spicy, and perfect for Freodore. Kaelix subconsciously leaned forward, chasing the scent, but Freodore stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“I believe,” Freodore said, gazing up at Kaelix through his lashes, “that you have duty in less than a half hour.”

Kaelix’s head whipped to the clock in the room, and he groaned upon seeing that he did, indeed, have duty in just over a quarter hour. “You are evil.”

Freodore cocked his head to one side, and Kaelix knew he could feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat through his gloves and both layers of the uniform Kaelix was wearing. His hand inched slowly up Kaelix’s chest, up the side of Kaelix’s bare neck, pressed his thumb against Kaelix’s bobbing adam’s apple. It slid up farther, held his jaw, leather nearly touching his bottom lip.

Freodore leaned in, and Kaelix was helpless to do anything, arrested by each millimeter that Freodore’s mouth came closer to the curve of his jawline, aware that his breaths were coming out as pants. Until he could feel Freodore’s warm breath against him.

The hand on his face dropped back down to push him away. “You’d better change into your uniform before the guardmaster punishes you.”

Kaelix took a moment to recover, both physically and psychologically. “Might not be too bad if he outsources my punishment to the wardrobe master,” he said, his voice embarrassingly breathy.

“Be very careful not to disturb my pins while you undress,” Freodore told him. “I have a meeting with the seneschal, so I’ll retrieve my prototype later.”

Freodore’s hand paused on the doorknob, and he looked back at Kaelix with a sly smile that Kaelix had never seen before. “I’ll see you later, Kaelix.”

As soon as the door closed behind Freodore, Kaelix stumbled over to the table and collapsed on top of it like every string holding him upright had been snipped free.

“Freodore,” he said into the table, because he had no other thoughts in his head, and then, “Furi. Furifuri.”

A giddy feeling was building inside him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long while. He rolled onto his back and grinned dopily at the ceiling, thinking about how he was wearing something that Freodore had made specifically with him in mind, and because of him. He almost wanted to ask Freodore if he could keep the prototype, just so he could have something from Freodore that was only for him. He could change back into his uniform and simply take the prototype uniform back to his own quarters, then tell Freodore he had no idea what had happened to it, that a servant must have grabbed it and surely it would show up in the laundry later that week. If it weren’t for the fact that Freodore had clearly put effort into this design update, and the fact that Kaelix would certainly be late for duty if he made a trip back to the guards’ quarters, he might actually go through with stealing it.

After he changed and reported for duty, he still couldn’t escape the memory of Freodore’s hands through the barrier of Kaelix’s uniform, of the way his voice changed when he teased Kaelix. But most of all, he couldn’t escape the memory of those baby pink eyes gazing up at him like he was picking Kaelix apart, piece by piece, like a puzzle he couldn’t wait to solve, a knot he was itching to untie.

A devastating, calamitous stretch of days during which Kaelix was unable to talk to Freodore alone followed that day on which Freodore had accosted him on his off duty to play Freodore’s personal mannequin. When he was nearing a week of strictly professional salutations, he started getting so restless with the need to see Freodore that other guards had noticed.

“You need to relax,” Vanta said to him during gate duty one evening. “Have a drink after duty tonight or something.”

“What I need cannot be provided by ale,” Kaelix replied, shifting his weight from one leg to the other and again.

“It’ll at least make you less annoying to be around.” A couple minutes of Kaelix shuffling around in place passed, then Vanta said, “Seriously. A bunch of guys are going to the bar after duty tonight. Not just guards, but some of the seneschal’s guys too. You should come, get a load off.” He eyed Kaelix suspiciously. “I mean that figuratively, but maybe literally would do you some good, too.”

The idea of bedding someone who wasn’t Freodore made Kaelix’s entire being roar in protest. “I’m all right on that front, but I’ll consider coming to the bar.”

Which was how he found himself at the palace guards’ favored bar right after duty relief, seated directly at the bar with Vanta, Seible, and Claude, another guard who was close with Vanta.

The bartender, Zeal, had poured them all mugs of ale as soon as they filed in, and another two when Vanta and Kaelix slammed theirs immediately.

The three of them – Vanta, Kaelix, and Claude – chatted about the day’s duties and upcoming events around the palace, while Seible chatted up the bartender. The weather had been growing cooler, finally, and when winter came the palace would begin preparations for the Day of the Crown, the day they celebrated the first king’s coronation. Kaelix and Vanta finished their second drinks at the same time and waved for another. 

Claude watched Kaelix from Vanta’s other side with a look that wasn’t judgmental as much as it was discerning. “All right, kid, Vanta is always like this, but you never drink that fast. What’s your problem?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Vanta told him. “He’s been antsy all week.”

“It’s nothing,” Kaelix said quickly enough for Claude to snort and roll his eyes.

A beat of silence passed between the three of them, and Kaelix could tell the other two were waiting for him to boil over with the compulsion to speak everything that has been on his mind.

That moment did not take long to arrive. Kaelix sighed, slumping down on the bar stool and bowing his head over his drink. “I haven’t seen Freodore all week. I may as well perish.”

Vanta sounded bored. “Interesting that you’re on a first name basis with the wardrobe master.”

“We’re friendly, is all I’m going to say.”

“How dubious.”

Seible, who had evidently been eavesdropping all while flirting with Zeal, leaned toward the three of them, brushing his shoulder against Kaelix’s. “Kae-chan has a very sad and frankly pitiful crush on Freodore.” He sighed dramatically and dropped his chin onto his hand. “Even more pitiful, I’m positive the feelings are mutual.”

“As I’ve witnessed,” Vanta said. He gestured toward Zeal for another glass and said, “I hope you can get your man soon, because this is starting to be really embarrassing to watch.”

A glass slid across the counter to Vanta, and on the other side of it, it appeared that their conversation had piqued Zeal’s interest.

“Freo is actually stopping by the bar later tonight, y’know. I owe him some money. So stick around.” 

Kaelix perked up both visibly and emotionally at the prospect of seeing Freodore outside of work finally, and after they hadn’t been able to have a proper conversation in days. It sustained him enough to stay by the bar even as it grew later, enjoying conversation with Vanta, Claude, Seible, Zeal, and other bar patrons who approached the counter. He wondered if Freodore would be in more casual wear, or if he would don his usual court-ready attire. As the night went on, he found his eyes darting to the doors repeatedly to see if whoever had just entered was Freodore. Seible caught him a few times and smirked whenever he did.

Finally, the door to the bar opened, and when Kaelix inevitably looked up, it was Freodore. He wore a blood red silk shirt with ruffles that softened the intensity of his eyes, a garment Kaelix had seen before but not without the black high-collared shirt Freodore usually wore under it, which was now nowhere to be seen. Kaelix drank in the expanse of exposed skin on Freodore’s chest like a fish gasping for water, unable to tear his gaze from those collar bones and the deep V-cut strip of skin below them even when his drinking companions jeered at him.

The exact moment that Freodore saw Kaelix was obvious. His eyes widened for not half a second, then settled into something that bordered on both smug and admonishing, like he caught Kaelix misbehaving. Kaelix made a point of glancing down at Freodore’s chest and then back to his eyes a few times, making Freodore roll his eyes as he pushed around the last group of patrons standing between him and the bar. Kaelix pouted when Freodore came to stand on Seible’s other side, and pouted even harder when he let Seible put an arm around his waist in greeting.

Zeal reached under the bar, then handed Freodore an envelope, who stored it in his bag with a “thank you”. Then, Zeal said, “It’s pretty late, isn’t it? It’s dangerous to walk alone on the streets at night. Kaelix can walk you home, he’s cut off for the night, anyway.”

Freodore raised an eyebrow at, but didn’t comment on, the last remark. “All right. Kaelix, will you be able to walk?”

It was said teasingly, but Kaelix still felt the need to clarify, “I only had three mugs, and I’m pretty sure he watered all of mine down. Which is a scoundrel thing to do, by the way.”

Zeal, who’d been wiping the inside of a glass, smiled his trademark placating smile. “Which is why I won’t make you pay for them.”

Kaelix and Freodore said their goodbyes to the group, Kaelix desperately trying to speed things along when he saw the conspiratory looks on his friends’ faces. Luckily, Freodore also seemed ready to leave, because he interrupted Seible in the middle of a sentence to say a very firm “good night” before grabbing Kaelix by the elbow and leading him out of the bar.

To Kaelix’s dismay, when they were out of the bustling bar crowd and in the outside air, Freodore released his hold on his arm. He nodded in a direction opposite from the route back to the palace and told Kaelix that he lived that way.

“Do you live near your workshop?”

They walked side-by-side, Kaelix deliberately shortening his usually long strides, despite Freodore’s height almost matching his in his boots. He’d seen Freodore stride into the palace like a man on a mission dozens of times, though, so it seemed both of them were eager to prolong this encounter.

“I live in an attachment behind my workshop. It’s been there for decades, now. My mentor lived there before she retired to the countryside.”

“You had a mentor who wasn’t the previous wardrobe master?”

“Yes. It’s unusual for an incumbent wardrobe master not to be an apprentice of their predecessor, but the old wardrobe master passed young due to illness and had no apprentice with sufficient experience to take up his mantle. The queen is well-acquainted with my mentor because they attended university together as children, and my mentor recommended me for the title.”

“Wow. There’s so much I still have to learn about you.”

Freodore glanced at him then, watching him intently for a long moment until he looked away and didn’t comment.

They walked in companionable silence for a stretch. A slight chill had settled in, so Kaelix, worried that Freodore was cold in his current attire, unbuckled the straps on his topcoat and unbuttoned the buttons with rare efficiency and draped the garment around Freodore’s shoulders. Freodore still didn’t say anything, but even in the low light of the moon Kaelix knew that the apples of his cheeks had turned pink.

As they walked, Kaelix couldn’t help but steal glances at Freodore, that giddy feeling he’d come to associate with Freodore building in his chest once again at the way he blushed so charmingly while wearing Kaelix’s uniform. Back at Zeal’s bar, he’d been a tad tired, sluggish even, but alone now with Freodore, he felt he suddenly had the energy of a child.

On the streets closest to the bar, there had been more people outside, lingering around and exiting nearby bars, clubs, and restaurants, but as they moved farther away, the crowd density had all but vanished. Most of the buildings were shops and residences, closed up for the day or sleeping. The lack of anyone around almost emboldened Kaelix to edge closer to Freodore, but his nerves stopped him from doing so.

His feet started to drag when Freodore’s workshop came into sight. They’d barely had any time with one another, and Kaelix had no idea when they would have another chance to be alone again. But if he had to spend another indefinite period of time not acting on his feelings for Freodore, on this precipice of something that made Kaelix’s heart beat faster, that had infinite possibility.

They stopped in front of the workshop and faced one another.

“Thank the skies Zeal had me escort you home,” Kaelix said. “I don’t think you would have survived that.”

The side of Freodore’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “I wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

Kaelix rocked back and forth on his feet a couple times as he tried to think of anything to say that would keep Freodore outside for a little while longer. But, “You’ve been working a lot lately. You probably want to get inside and rest.”

“Not too bad. I only started working in the afternoon. The princess negotiated later duty for me today because I almost fell asleep in her fitting rooms yesterday.”

Kaelix’s chest panged with the desire to tuck Freodore into bed and stand guard at his door so he would be forced to get enough rest every night, and no one would be able to bother him. 

“I am wildly, devastatingly attracted to you,” he said then, the words coming out rushed but so assured.

To which Freodore replied, in that ruinous, quiet voice, “I know.”

“Please allow me to court you.”

A closed smile spread across Freodore’s lips, and Kaelix felt the full weight and force of his attraction drive into him. “Haven’t you already been doing that?”

Kaelix ignored the way his cheeks grow hot, because if he focused on it then he wouldn’t be able to speak coherently, and its implications caused an ache in his entire being that was so profound he almost could not go on through the haze. Of course, they had not actually been courting – pretty words and longing glances and nighttime fantasies definitely could not be classified as courting – but the idea that he’d been so obvious… 

But Freodore had been just as obvious, hadn’t he? The private smiles he let Kaelix see when no one else was looking, the dark once-overs he gave Kaelix when he caught him training outdoors in the warmer weather, the pressure of his fingers on Kaelix when he made Kaelix model the new autumn uniform that he designed because of Kaelix. Just because he didn’t shower Kaelix with compliments like Kaelix did didn’t mean he didn’t feel the same way.

“I want to kiss you.” The words tumbled out of him on top of each other, like Kaelix no longer had any control of his speech now that he’d started.

“I want that too,” Freodore said, his eyes earnest. “But not tonight.”

A high-pitched sound that Kaelix would freely admit was a whine was siphoned from his throat. “But why.”

Freodore’s hand slipped into his, intertwining their fingers and pulling Kaelix closer. “Because I still have a lot of work I need to do tonight, and if I kiss you now, I won’t be able to stop thinking about it until I can have you again.”

“Just have me forever,” Kaelix said.

Freodore smiled and joined their other hands, too. “There’s only a week until the solstice. I’ll make sure you don’t have duty the morning after, so let’s have a dance, then you can take me home again.”

The winter solstice marked the beginning of a week of festivities at the palace and the city surrounding the palace, beginning with a ball on the night of the solstice, as well as the end of Freodore’s long string of being overworked.

Kaelix, of course, had guard duty, and he hadn’t seen Freodore since early that morning. Luckily, his duty was in the ballroom, rather than outside in the cold. It was his first winter solstice ball since his post was transferred from the southern coast to the palace, and he did not envy the guards whose posts were at the gates in the frigid air. The overseer for the indoor security stationed Kaelix and Vanta at the eastern end of the ballroom by the corridor that lead to the kitchens, and one of the seneschal’s men had barked out an order to not allow guests to see them leaning against the walls.

There were few foreign guests relative to other balls the palace held, with most on the ballroom floor being the crown’s own nobles and peasantry. Kaelix liked that the palace opened its doors to all citizens for the solstices, because the typical day at the palace was never so jubilee. He’d even been given temporary relief from his post when a lively young woman in a fluffy white dress resembling a snowbank grabbed his hand and dragged him onto the floor.

They danced to the celebratory music of the season, Kaelix laughing alongside the woman as he took her hand and spun her around the ballroom. When the song ended, she placed a delicate hand on his arm and leaned in to ask, “Sir, may I ask if you’re currently in courtship?”

Even though he had not, in fact, began formally courting Freodore, Kaelix opened his mouth to tell her that he was not available. But before he could speak, a gloved hand clasped tight around Kaelix’s wrist, pulling him free from the woman’s grasp.

“He has someone,” came Freodore’s voice.

A smile spread Kaelix’s lips and grew even wider when he saw that Freodore had taken the time to dress up more than usual for the night. He didn’t even acknowledge his previous dancing partner as Freodore took Kaelix’s hand and guided it to his waist, their other hands lacing together.

Freodore had replaced the topcoat Kaelix had glimpsed him wearing that morning while preparations were being finalized with a red waistcoat that Kaelix could feel was lined with fur when he gave Freodore’s waist a compulsive squeeze. The grey silk shirt underneath was a slightly lower neck than he usually wore, despite the colder weather, and it matched the shimmering kohl that lined his eyes. Kaelix could have mistaken the slight rouge tint high on Freodore’s cheeks if it weren’t the same color that darkened his lips.

“My eyes are up here.”

Those eyes glimmered with mirth, even after Kaelix used the music as an excuse to spin Freodore in place. 

“So…” Kaelix began.

“You won’t have to report tomorrow morning.”

Kaelix grinned.

“I also negotiated for your early relief tonight.”

“Negotiated?”

“I reminded the princess that I have been working almost ceaselessly for the past two months and let her know in no uncertain terms that if I can’t have you to myself for one day, then I’m going to cause a scandal in court, and she passed the appropriate orders to the guardmaster.”

“A scandal, you say? Would that scandal happen to involve sneaking into a certain guard’s sleeping quarters?”

“That sounds quite crass, Kaelix. But yes.”

Kaelix had been planning to wait for the current song to finish before spiriting Freodore off to a dark corner of the ballroom, but he found patience was not his virture tonight. His arms dropped to Freodore’s waist, and he ushered him to the side, past the post where he was supposed to be standing guard.

A quick glance back into the ballroom crowd told Kaelix that no one was paying attention to them, and even Vanta had abandoned their post at some point in the evening. Kaelix latched onto the false privacy and stepped into Freodore’s space, and the music seemed muted here, tucked away in the corridor. Muted enough to hear Freodore’s sharp intake of breath.

“How early is appropriately early and not scandalously early for us to leave?”

“Do you think anyone whose opinion matters will notice?”

“Well, let’s take a look. Seible seems to have the guardmaster preoccupied with, I don’t know, probably nagging at him to not look so dour for once, our king and queen haven’t been seen in over an hour, and it appears our princess is currently swooning over… several priestesses.”

Hand in hand, they darted out the front gates of the palace with little more than several eye rolls from the guards on duty. Kaelix’s laughter rose up alongside the clamor of festivity as Freodore tugged him down the path from the palace and through the city, weaving politely through the crowds out dancing and playing music in the streets. Freodore’s answering laugh rang like a bell.

They finally slowed to a walk, their panting breaths turning into puffs of frost, when they turned onto the street of Freodore’s workshop. The flush to Freodore’s cheeks mirrored the warmth in Kaelix’s.

And also, his chest panged with the realization that if they continued, he would fall irrevocably in love with Freodore.

“I have an affection for you that occupies my mind to full capacity and threatens to make my very heart implode inside my chest, but also feels like…” Kaelix paused, “like seeing the first leaf turn red in September.” Freodore’s mouth opened in a small, surprised o, and Kaelix continued, “And the first snowflake fall in winter, and the first flower bloom in spring.”

Freodore tilted his head to the side. “And summer?”

“You’re the summer sun I look for in the clouds. You burn me, you threaten blindness when I look at you, but I never want to look away.”

“That’s funny,” Freodore said, “I would say the very same of you.”

And then Freodore reached out to Kaelix with one hand, grasped the crossbody strap of his uniform, and tugged him into a kiss.

Kissing Freodore. Freodore’s lips were gentle but firm against his, and when Kaelix’s brain finally caught up enough to throw himself into the kiss, he felt Freodore smile against his mouth and his free hand snake around the back of his neck, not squeezing, just holding Kaelix in place. He grabbed for Freodore’s waist, eliciting a quiet gasp from Freodore as Kaelix pulled him closer. He held him close, not bruising but enough to sate the desire to keep him, and Freodore’s arms around his neck wound tighter in response.

A sharp tug on his hair made Kaelix release a noise that was entirely a whine and Freodore used the opportunity to lick into his mouth. Kaelix relinquished any claim to control he had or thought he had then, simply turning himself over to Freodore’s mercy and following his lead. Freodore’s hand in his hair returned to the back of his neck, his palm searing hot on Kaelix’s skin. His other hand came up to cup Kaelix’s jaw as he turned them and walked Kaelix backward until his back hit the door, and he let out a breathy laugh at the sound Kaelix made as a result.

“Furifuri,” Kaelix said, uncaring if he sounded pathetic or un-guardlike as Freodore kissed and licked his way down the curve of Kaelix’s jaw and down to his neck. “Furifuri.”

“Kaelix,” Freodore replied perfunctorily before resuming his attack on Kaelix’s mouth.

Kaelix squeezed his waist and leaned back in for a few more open-mouthed kisses, feeling like he was no longer capable of intelligent thought.

“Kaelix,” Freodore repeated, breaking their kiss and smirking in a way that drove Kaelix mad when Kaelix tried to chase his mouth. “Kaelix.”

Kaelix pouted, his fingers flexing around Freodore’s waist like a giant cat. “What.”

“Stay with me tonight?”

All the air left Kaelix’s lungs. Freodore’s eyes shone a pearlescent pink under the moon, and Kaelix wanted them on him, always. “Yes.”

When Kaelix woke up, he knew instantly where he was. The bedroom he was in, the sheets and pillows and even the walls around him smelled so strongly of Freodore. He rolled onto his side and his eyes followed Freodore’s figure on the other side of the room, where Freodore was brewing tea over a coal fire. He allowed himself a moment to watch Freodore putter around the small room, the way he shuffled around in a soft sleeping shirt that fell halfway down his thighs and wool socks, but only a minute had passed before Freodore looked over his shoulder and saw that Kaelix was awake.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” Kaelix said back, his voice rough from sleep.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby.”

Kaelix sat up to stretch, and when the sheets fell from his body, Freodore very conspicuously looked at Kaelix’s naked torso. Kaelix tamped down his shyness and grinned up at him.

“I sent a messenger to tell the guardmaster that you fell ill last night and that I took you back to my workshop to recoup. I also asked her to pass the same message to the princess, who will understand to vouch for you if the guardmaster tries to give you trouble.”

“Are you and the princess close?” Kaelix asked while he put on his inner tunic from the previous night.

“Why? Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

Kaelix snorted. “Of an 18-year-old royal? Of course not. Besides, everyone knows she has little to no taste for men.” He stood to join Freodore at the table where the latter was preparing two cups of tea.

“I’ve known her since she was a small child. She visited this workshop with Her Highness the queen frequently. All of her staff are much older than her, several years older than me, even, and of course she has no siblings similar to her in age, so I think she grew attached to me as the next youngest person in her orbit.” He offered the first cup of tea to Kaelix, sliding the saucer to him but not removing his hand, letting Kaelix’s knuckles brush over the back of his hand.

They sipped their tea with the intimately serene conversation of lovers. Every few minutes, Kaelix discreetly inched his chair closer to Freodore’s, until they were close enough for their knees to brush against one another. Two of their hands interlocked and remained that way throughout every phase of the morning sun. While Kaelix murmured about the various petty gossips circulating the palace, Freodore held Kaelix’s gaze with such halting softness that Kaelix lost his own train of thought several times, and each time Freodore would just smile at him fondly and squeeze their joined hands. They wrought out every last drop of liquid from the soaked tea leaves, swallowed down the bitter dregs without complaint so they could have every moment they could steal. 

“It would be extremely improper for us to arrive arm-in-arm and report for duty,” Kaelix mumbled to Freodore in the open door separating the private quarters from the workshop, his forehead hanging down to rest against Freodore’s after they both finally got dressed. They’d lay in bed for a few more hours after putting away the tea, legs tangled in one another, exchanging soft kisses and quiet gasps as the afternoon came.

Freodore smiled absentmindedly as he adjusted the crown’s crest on Kaelix’s shoulder. “More improper than you relentlessly pursuing and seducing a court master while on guard duty? And mind you, I have no duty this week.”

“I absolutely refuse to take responsibility for any seducing. I was defenseless against a beautiful man.”

“I suppose this means you’ll no longer have to ruin your uniform just to talk to me.”

Kaelix gasped, ignoring the way Freodore laughed and kissed his cheek. “I did no such thing. I would never deliberately damage the wardrobe master’s handiwork.”

Freodore hummed and gave Kaelix a close-up view of his eyelashes as his hands caressed along the hem of Kaelix’s uniform. “Maybe you wouldn’t. But I would.”

Before Kaelix could ask what he meant, Freodore pulled a blade from the table and sliced each one of the buttons off the front of Kaelix’s uniform. “Oops.” The knife clattered back on the counter. “I’ll ask one of my assistants to send along a message that we will be late for our duties due to a minor uniform malfunction.”

“Furifuri.” Kaelix looked down at Freodore in disbelief, and he couldn’t hold himself back from kissing the satisfied smile on Freodore’s lips. “I like you so much.”

“Good,” Freodore whispered against Kaelix’s mouth. “Because I like you too.”

Kaelix’s uniform coat fell to the floor, and Kaelix pressed Freodore’s back into the table, caring neither for his uniform nor the fact that he was going to be late for duty. The guardmaster would probably give him all the worst posts for the rest of the holiday. But it was worth the extra hour he could have Freodore to himself, because now that he had him… he never wanted to let him go.