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Theodor felt like he could have conquered the entire world.
His freedom that day had had the taste of Selewine's delicious potato pie, the color of the enchanting pink sunset sky, and the sound of his friends' thunderous laughter.
He felt a strong sense of security, and for once that invisible shield enclosing him wasn't made of the Herr Montel’s caring nature or the thickness of the walls surrounding the royal gardens.
It was made of his own unlimited, unrestricted energy, his boundless joy at finally being free of the prison that was the royal palace.
Selewine's house was small for a building located just outside Sollheim. The shutters were almost all broken and chaos reigned supreme.
But the windows had been repaired with wooden boards decorated with small doodles, and the mess on the table was made of the bulk of sketches and drawings Selewine had made to practice decorating the products of the bakery he worked at.
That place had a soul, a heart that was unknown to the luxurious rooms of the castle Theodor had lived in his entire life. He had never seen a more beautiful home. To be honest, he hadn't visited many private houses before, but he was sure that, even if he had, this one would have been top of the list.
Being there made him feel alive. He was restless, in the best possible way. Could it be considered a positive feeling? He'd always been admonished for his excitement, his impatience. But, finally, he was in a place where he couldn't be scolded for being himself. Theodor felt like he had no limits.
He was leaning awkwardly against the wooden sideboard as his head was spinning slightly, a pleasant effect of the alcohol he wasn't at all accustomed to.
The empty glass in his hand testified to the fact that he'd more than appreciated the wine Selewine offered to his guests. He wasn't usually allowed to drink, so that evening he had intended to make the most of his time away from royal duties.
Another thought further improved his mood: for once, looking at the group gathered in a circle on the carpet, he knew that his enthusiasm was shared by everyone.
Selewine and the three new guards from the First Unit were singing over the notes Isabel was strumming on her guitar, filling the air with very inharmonious and unpleasant sounds.
Sollheim's officers were required by law to abstain from drinking, but the three had received permission to take a few sips from Vincent, who, despite expressing regret for having complied with their requests, was watching them with a faint smile on his lips. Typical. Theodor made a mental note to tease him the next days for temporarily abandoning his role as captain and showing his soft side with the three recruits.
The wine bottles were now all empty and clustered next to Cal, even though he hadn't taken a single sip. Religious reasons, Theodor had thought. However, he still hadn't understood how shapers’ beliefs worked, especially seeing how Selewine and Isabel had had no problems with drinking alcohol in company.
One of these days he would ask Cal. The boy had always been a mystery to him, shrouded in a fog he had mistakenly thought he'd dispelled. However, what he had ended up knowing when they were together had been merely a mask, carefully tailored by Cal with the aim of saving his family at any cost.
A part of him knew he'd been delusional, that he had fallen for a marvelous, splendid tale. He knew Cal wasn't truly what he'd portrayed himself to be. Yet another tiny—but not insignificant—part of him couldn't help but think that the reason he was there meant the exact opposite.
Months had passed since they'd said goodbye. One hundred and one days, to be exact, and Theodor had spent every last one of them trying to come to terms with the fact that they'd never see each other again.
By day zero, Theodor had decided he'd never let anyone other than Hildræd Calthorpe touch him again.
By day seven, Theodor had cried every tear he had stored in his body.
By day nineteen, he had written an exhaustive list of the reasons why he hated him and burned the paper with the flame of an old candle found in his bedside drawer.
By day twenty, he had sat down at the piano and composed a song dedicated to him.
By day forty-four, he had decided to run three laps around the royal gardens every time he thought about him.
By day forty-five, he had realized it was a waste of time.
The following weeks were more hazy in his memory, but that didn't mean he wasn't sure how miserable they had been.
By day one hundred, he had almost begun, perhaps, to accept the fact that he had said goodbye.
By day one hundred and one, Cal had shown up at the palace again.
His cheeks weren't as hollow as before. His hair, shinier, was the color of wheat. He seemed calmer, more confident, more at ease. Freedom truly suited him, it had made him even more handsome than before.
He had approached him, in the throne room, and uttered a sentence that, for the first time in Theodor's life, left him speechless.
I’m connected to you, he had said. I accidentally transferred some of my abilities to you. I want them back.
The logistics behind it weren't exactly clear to him, but instinctively he said, yes, absolutely. It took him a few milliseconds to decide that he would do anything to please him. After all, Cal had saved his life. It was the bare minimum to return the favor in any way he could.
However, the events of the last two days had made him think. How could it all have been fake, when Cal had lost part of his shaper skills because of the connection that had developed between them?
His whole life, false pretenses had been imposed on him. Etiquette, connections with dukes, noble titles. That fake bond with Cal was one of the few genuine and real things that had ever happened to him. And having the confirmation that, perhaps, it had all been genuine and real for him, too, changed things.
“Theodor Wilhelm Winterberg,” Cal had risen from the carpet, making the circle of people a crescent moon, and had come toward him, his gaze fixed behind him.
“Cal Calthorpe,” Theodor managed a fleeting smile. He tried to suppress the urge to jump around him in joy.
“I need a glass,” he explained, nodding briefly to indicate the top of the sideboard Theodor was leaning against.
“Then take it.”
“It would be easy, if you'd just move.”
“I'm comfortable here.”
The Cal he'd known might have been fake, but Theodor had always shown himself for who he was. He was sure Cal knew him well enough to understand he wouldn't move.
With a slight snort, Cal took a step toward him, reaching for a glass. Theodor, who had just set his own on the sideboard, instinctively took advantage of his free hands to grasp Cal’s suspenders, searching for the eye contact he hadn't granted him since they'd spoken in the throne room.
His heartbeat began to thump in his ears, blocking out all outside sounds and turning his friends' celebrations into a distant echo.
He knew he shouldn't have. He wanted to blame the alcohol, but for a hundred and one days he'd been praying to whoever was up there to have him this close again. He was sure he wouldn't have been able to hold back even if he hadn't touched a drop of wine all evening.
The eye contact that followed wasn't what Theodor would have wanted. Cal's eyes were blank, and even though they were turned toward him, they seemed to be staring into space.
Theodor hoped the pleading in his gaze would be enough to change his mind, but he feared Cal had had the same thought.
Finally, it was him who spoke. "Theo, please. We're here to put an end to all this."
His nickname sounded so sweet coming from him. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. He needed him back, even if just for one night.
“Once the priest arrives and restores your shaping abilities, all of this will cease to exist. Wouldn't it be worth taking advantage of this connection while it lasts?”
Cal's eyes finally focused on his. The fact that he now had his full attention gave Theodor the strength to continue.
“Think about it. We were good together, thanks to what you unconsciously transmitted to me. Once you regain your abilities, nothing that binds me to you will remain and everything will be the same as before. Before we met, before you came into my life. I mean,” his confidence wavered, but he tried not to show it and continued his speech, “one more day won't change anything. Why not be happy once again tonight, before we say goodbye forever?”
“What makes you think I was happy with you?”
It was a stab to the heart. His fists, clenched around his suspenders, loosened their grip. What had hurt more, Cal's brusque words or the fact that they might be true? Theodor couldn't answer. Maybe it had all been a privileged nobleman's whim from the beginning. He'd always had everything in life, and maybe it wasn't enough. Maybe he'd been blinded by his desire, by his constant search for the bright side, and had misunderstood everything. It wouldn't be the first time, and certainly not the last.
But now doubt had settled in. He had to know to what extent he'd imagined everything.
“Were you happy with me?”
He let out a soft sigh, but said nothing. All Theodor's energy left him, only to return suddenly when Cal cupped his cheeks in his hands and pressed their lips together.
Theodor suspected he was dreaming, so he ran a hand over Cal's wheat-colored hair. The feeling of his fingers caressing his blond curls almost made him cry with joy. After a hundred and two days, he had finally had him again.
Cal pulled away from him just enough to be able to talk. “Tomorrow it will all be over. Promise?"
Theodor would make do with that. From tomorrow, their paths would separate, and he would have to learn to live without him, but he would think about it later. Now he just wanted to focus on the boy, finally real and genuine, in front of him.
"Promise?" he repeated. Theodor held his gaze. Cal had changed, both internally and externally, but his eyes were as soft as he remembered.
This time, it was Theodor who kissed him. “Promise."