Rowan's POV:

Ciaran follows me home at a distance, and I can tell, and he is very open about the fact, that he is still angry and upset. Not that I blame him, because I was stupid and foolish when I started yelling at him without listening when he begged me to.

I know I need to make it up to him, but he is too good for a simple "I am sorry" and then moving past it like nothing happened. Not only did I upset him with my shouting and irrationality, but I hurt him and made Ciaran lose the spark he had.

It is all my fault.

"Come with me," I say, holding my hand out, but Ciaran ignores it. "We will go to the courtyard."

He follows me to the courtyard where I asked Tyla to set up the food I spent all morning making for Ciaran. Tyla always said that I needed to be ready to feed my future partner and care for them, so I spent the morning making a picnic up. I planned on inviting Ciaran this morning, but he refused to hear me, which I deserved.

When I walk out to the courtyard, it crosses my mind to let Tyla just take over the kingdom as a thank you, because they went above and beyond. The center of the courtyard had a blanket and the small fire pit just feet away from it near our benches is lit up. There is a basket and a small hanging pot above the fire, as well as two small mugs on the ground beside the basket.

"Wow," Ciaran says, and I can see the amazement in his eyes. "Did you pay someone to set it up? I've seen how messy your closet is."

I find a smile pulling at the corners of my lips as we walk toward the thick blanket on the ground and sit together, the fire like a warm bath washing over our cold bodies.

"Tyla set it up, but I made all the food. They wanted to make sure that it was set up right, in Tyla's words," I explain, opening the basket of baked goods. "Are you hungry?"

Ciaran nods, and I show him the options he has, and to my pleasure, he begins to pick out more than one while I read for the pot, covering my hand with the towel Tyla must have left, and pouring us both large mugs of the sweetened milk that is inside the vessel.

It is milk, sugar, and vanilla, something my fathers would make for me when I was young to help me fall asleep. The drink gives me good memories and I hope this will be the start to some good memories for Ciaran.

"Here," I offer, and Ciaran accepts the hot drink, the warmth of it making his cheeks redden and bringing color back to his pale face. "Is it good?"

Ciaran gives me a soft smile that makes my heart warm and I want to hug him close to me, but I know that he will not forgive me that easy.

"This is good!" Ciaran exclaims, eating one of the lemon tarts that I made. "Who made this?"

I feel a blush come to my face. "I made them," I say, and shock comes to Ciaran's face.

"You can cook?" he asks, crumbs all over his shirt and a bit of lemon filling at the side of his lip.

I reach forward and touch his cheek, pushing the rest of the lemon curd into his mouth, and oh my gods, I feel very warm for it being cold out, because he is sucking on my finger. Even though it feels very sexual to me, he seems very innocent and lets go of my finger with a red face when we accidentally make eye contact.

"Well, the food is very delicious," he says, licking his lips and finishing his tart and finishing it with a large gulp of the hot milk drink.

"Thank you, Ciaran," I say, putting down my cup and taking his hand in my own. "And I am horribly sorry for the way I treated you. I feel terrible for not listening and for making assumptions, as I should have known your intentions were and are nothing but pure."

He squeezes my hand, that familiar, gorgeous smile illuminating his face. "You are forgiven. However, I will tell you that it did hurt me in the most painful way, Rowan. It is not meant to make you guilty, but I considered leaving because I felt that you hated me and only saw me as what you thought I was. It hurt me deeply and some of that pain is still there."

Well, for not wishing to make me feel guilt, a horrible feeling is churning in my gut! Though, I do deserve it, it hurts me to see his pained eyes, to know that this could have been avoided and had I actually thought with my mind instead of my fear.

"I will do whatever I can to fix what I did to you, Ciaran," I say to him, still holding his surprisingly warm hand in my own cold one. "I promise."

He hums, still smiling beautifully. "I believe you," he whispers, before looking at the sky in confusion. "I just saw..."

His eyes widen so I can see their light grey in the light of the cloudy sky.

"What is it?" I ask, looking up with him, though I'd prefer to stare at him. "Oh..."

It is beautiful, the first snowfall finally coming down on us! And even more beautiful, the admiration and love on Ciaran's face as he stares in awe at the beautiful spectacle.

"I have not seen the snow in person in such a long time," he whispers, as if it is a secret that only I am allowed to hear. "Only through a window, because Master never allowed me outside in the winter. He knew I loved it, so he kept me inside when the snow began to fall, to take away the fraction of happiness I had left."

My heart aches for him.

"No one here will ever stop you from seeing the snow," I tell him, taking a risk and scooting closer, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. "We will sit for hours, regardless of the fact that we could fall ill, so long as you continue to smile like this every day."

He turns with a smile willed with so much happiness, but his eyes show pain and longing. Ciaran sets his glass down, stands up, and dives into my lap, burying his face into my neck.

I rub his back as he cries, and I know that he is happy, but he is also letting go. His pain is there, but some of it is vanishing with each tear that soaks into my thick, winter coat. I want to have every piece of him, all of the pain and sadness, every smile and laugh, every hug and kiss... I want all of him, and now is the beginning.

The childish feelings we had days ago mean very little to me now, because we were not up front like we should have been. We were both afraid, but I feel no fear anymore when it comes to my feelings and growing love for Ciaran.

I want him, and I want all of him.

"Do not try to stop the tears," I urge Ciaran as he coughs and tries to calm down. "There is not a problem with letting out your pain in tears. Cry until you have nothing left to let out."

Ciaran takes my advice and cries even harder, hugging me tighter, and his cries are so painful that my own eyes sting with tears.

Gods, how could you do so wrong to this innocent, beautiful man? How could you let him suffer in vain for years, with no one to comfort him?

Why did it have to be him?

I wish I could turn the time and trade myself for him, or at the very least, save him before he was turned into a slave.

"Rowan," he says in a fragmented voice. "Please, take me inside. I am a bit worried the tears will freeze to my face."

I obey and help him up, taking the basket and putting out the fire so nothing catches. Though, with the snow coming down, there is little chance, but Tyla always tells me you must be careful with fire, for it will bite and punish you when you least expect it.

Ciaran leans into me as we walk inside, fully trusting me to help him get to my room, and once we are there, he strips himself of his clothing except for his undergarments and sits in front of the roaring fire in my room.

He is beautiful, but I know he will shy away if I stare, so I take care to avoid giving him my lustful looks and instead find a blanket for us to share.

I wrap the blanket around him first, before taking off my own clothes and sitting on the floor with him and take part of the blanket around myself.

"Ciaran, you are the most beautiful man I have ever met," I tell him, because he deserves to hear it.

His blush is obvious, even in the glow of the fire. "Thank you, and I think the same of you, so I suppose we will have to call it a draw. We are both the most beautiful men to exist."

"Kingdoms near and far will be jealous that none of their subjects compare to our beauty," I say, making Ciaran laugh and brings relief to me.

Gods, I love to see him happy, and I am glad he is back beside me. Even though he was only angry with me for a short while, it near killed me every second we were apart.

"The guards checked around the perimeter of the kingdom today," I tell Ciaran, making him perk up and look at me. "They did not find anything, other than the bodies of those Patrick and Jameson killed. We believe a small party was sent, so it will not be long before more follow, but we are ready for them and we have scouts that are out in the further villages that will keep an eye out in case an army is sent."

Ciaran seems relieved to hear that there is no immediate danger, but I know he is thinking about what we can do, because waiting until they initiate an attack is a terrifying feeling. "I will do whatever I can to support this kingdom and the fight, Rowan. I want Vayl to fall, and the people who stole my life away to fall with it."