"Reconnaissance…?" Narseh repeated. "Why would Soraya assign this to you, of all people? You could be doing something far more meaningful — like continuing your magical research..."

He regretted the note of reproach in his voice as soon as he heard it. Three years of peace had made the Arya so accustomed to stability that they had nearly forgotten why war shayasya had once been indispensable. When Aryan teetered on the brink of ruin, Ardashir had been almost a god to them — but now, people spoke of soldiers with something close to indifference. And here Narseh was, no better than the rest. Yes, war was a wretched, grim affair, but that was no reason to look down on those the Arya had once chosen to defend them. And besides, no one was fighting now — they were merely patrolling the borders. He understood the necessity of it. Not to mention, no soldier was only a soldier. None of them had wished for this life; poor Soraya, like the others, longed for the day her service would end so she could return to other pursuits, just as Gelareh, not long ago, had yearned to cast aside the burden of rulership and shape the world in stone instead.

"I only meant that I have always dreamed of working alongside you," he corrected himself quickly. "Especially now, when Eranshahr is undergoing such astonishing changes... But in any case, you could have told me what you've been doing! I might have been able to help. Have I not proven myself reliable?"

"My dearest, of course I know I can rely on you. If it were a diplomatic mission, I would gladly seek your assistance. But I am no longer the High Prince of the Arya — I am merely a man with considerable military experience. And I have no wish to entangle you in this."

"But you said it was only reconnaissance..."

"It is... and yet. You are not made for war. You are its very opposite. And you have your own duties, no less important than mine."

"But you allow Lyn to engage in politics..."

"I cannot permit or forbid Lyn anything. His organization is his own... and it is not military. But if I had my way, I would keep him as far from danger as I could."

Narseh absently traced his fingers over Ardashir’s shoulder and waist; the metal of the armor was smooth and cool, like black water, with no warmth seeping through from beneath. Ardashir’s words made perfect sense — yet an uneasy feeling still gnawed at Narseh.

"I was just thinking... the three of us — it's not that we're growing distant, exactly, but we're not drawing closer either, if you understand what I mean."

"There are times when people retreat into themselves — into their work, into their thoughts. If anyone knows that, it is you." It was true — there had been occasions when Narseh became so consumed by his studies that he vanished from reality entirely. "It just so happens that you are finding yourself with more free time, while Lyn and I... have none at all. It happens."

"Yes, but..."

"I know you long for a closeness I cannot give you these days... and I am truly sorry. Perhaps Lyn will lift your spirits tomorrow. It is natural for relationships to hold more than just joy. That does not mean they are unraveling." Then, with a playful glint, Ardashir added, "Besides, it has not always been this way. There were times when I was ready to come running at the slightest word, burning with the need to see you — only to find you buried in your work."

"Well... If that ever happened, it was certainly not by my own choice, and—"

Something in Narseh’s expression must have given him away, because Ardashir’s gaze softened.

"But I miss you too, my joy... I hope this will not last much longer, and that soon all will be as it should."

Narseh sighed.

"Forgive me. The moment I see you, I begin to complain. That won't do." He pulled Ardashir toward the cushioned bench with a high back. "Are you tired? Let me take care of you… at the very least, I could make you some cha."

He moved to stand, but Ardashir held him in place.

"I will barely be home for half an hour. And in that time, I must wash, change, and prepare myself before leaving again. No cha, nothing at all... Just stay here with me a little while."

"Where must you go next?"

"To Bukhara, the Sughdian city where Lyn is now. There are people who need safe passage beyond the reach of the Arabiya."

"And where will you sleep tonight? There?"

"Most likely in the saddle." Ardashir’s face took on such an expression of deep suffering that Narseh couldn't help but smile.

"Is there truly no one else with the power to leap through the Other Side who could handle this?" The moment he said it, Narseh hated how selfish and petulant it sounded.

"Those who assist Lyn with this are all preoccupied. And besides, I have matters to discuss with him."

The unease in Narseh remained, but he gave a reluctant nod.

"Very well... You said half an hour? Then perhaps..."

He kissed that beloved, ever-troubled mouth — and again, and again — until it curved into a smile. His fingers traced along Ardashir’s side, searching for the cleverly hidden clasps within the black folds of fabric. He had once fastened and unfastened such armor for a play about Siyavash, but that was long ago; and even more years had passed since he had trained in this uniform as a boy. If he recalled correctly, the thigh guard should have a chain of fastenings... Ardashir caught his hand.

"Not now. Since I last bathed, I have spent two nights in a campaign tent, and in between, I was quite literally crawling through the mud. Trust me, you do not want to know how it smells beneath this armor. Let’s just sit together. What are you thinking?"

It was entirely illogical — Ardashir was about to wash and change anyway, so why not...? But if what he truly wanted was not touch, but simply quiet closeness, then so be it.

Lyn always claimed that the question "What are you thinking?" was utterly foolish. Perhaps for those who were not Arya, it was — it required halting a stream of thought, struggling to shape it into words, and explaining it in a way another person might understand. That was irritating. But when one could simply open one's mind, it was something else entirely.

Narseh brushed his fingertips lightly along the curve of Ardashir’s jaw, then pressed his lips to the hollow of his neck before settling in, tucking himself between Ardashir’s shoulder and throat, and closing his eyes.

The shared silence was profoundly comforting. Narseh did not probe too deeply into Ardashir’s thoughts — simply basking in his presence was enough. But he caught glimpses of the man’s worries: the looming threat of the Arabiya, the frustration of being forced once again into the role of a soldier, the sorrow of being unable to devote himself fully to magic. He had seen all of this before... Yet Narseh's earlier question — why they could not work together — had troubled Ardashir far more than he had let on. And Narseh, now, felt ashamed.

"I'm sorry... I truly admire you and Lyn. You both keep doing your work, knowing full well that you can't save everyone. I already know from the Black Blight what that feels like — it's unbearable… But what you're doing is so important, even if it worries me. Quietly studying science is all well and good, but someone has to save the world."

"The world?" Ardashir smiled. "Hardly. Lyn, perhaps, still believes in that, but I’ve long since learned that the world does not want to be saved. In fact, it resists every such attempt. At best, I hope to save Aryan — once out of duty, now out of habit…"

"Liar," Narseh murmured tenderly.

Ardashir stroked his hair, massaging his scalp in slow, circular motions. Narseh leaned into the touch, as he always did—but Ardashir knew precisely where the line lay, the one where this pleasure would cease to be purely innocent, and he did not cross it. So Narseh simply relaxed and let his thoughts drift.

"Oh, kitten…" Ardashir sighed when he glimpsed the images of Juniper Land in Narseh’s mind. "Why did you—? You shouldn’t have gone back there alone."

"On the contrary," Narseh objected. "If I was going to go at all, I had to go alone. If you had been with me, it wouldn’t have been as frightening, but it also wouldn’t have been… right. But it’s fine. Even though I was alone, it… it wasn’t so terrible."

He tried to share with Ardashir the tangled thread of emotions he had yet to find words for. He hadn’t even known what he was searching for in that silent, ruined land — ghosts of the past? A sense of home? But there was, of course, neither. There was only quiet, birds’ nests tucked into broken stone, the shoots of new grass pushing up through cracks… And to his surprise, he had not felt death, but forward motion.

"That’s good, isn’t it?" Ardashir said gently. "It means that your journey there confirmed what you were already feeling — that you’re ready to move forward. That is what you told me, isn’t it?"

"Well, yes…" Narseh gave a small, self-conscious smile. "But… I don’t know. Do you think we’re truly ready for this? This whole idea of having a child — are you certain? Maybe this isn't the right time. You and Lyn keep talking about the threat of war on the horizon… I’m afraid this is something only I truly want. And as much as I love children, I have no desire to end up like the non-Arya women, bearing all the burdens of pregnancy only to then be saddled with all the care as well — that’s unthinkable. And I don’t want to stop practicing medicine, but trying to balance everything at once? That seems impossible."

"Oh, love, it was I who suggested it to you in the first place," Ardashir reassured him. "And yes, right now is hardly ideal… but the truth is, the coming years — perhaps even decades — will be just as uncertain. If we are to be rational about it, then in fact, we ought to hurry, while Aryan still has this moment of respite before even darker days arrive. And besides, I am not growing any younger, even if I have no complaints about my strength yet. We will manage. Don’t doubt it — I will make time to care for your child, even if I must give up sleep entirely." He kissed Narseh, then added teasingly, "I will grow my hair, as befits a man who was taken as a companion to a valley clan... And I will show you all the honor befitting the head of the household… no, the head of the clan!"

Narseh laughed, embarrassed. "Don’t be ridiculous… I can't even grow long hair myself, I don't have the patience... Although it would suit you very well!.. Besides, perhaps it will be the other way around."

"Well, I certainly won’t be the head of my own family — Gelareh is my elder, after all…"

"There you go, making fun of me again! You know what I meant."

"Yes, I do." Ardashir’s voice softened. "We can consider all the possibilities. We’ll work it out together. But first, we must speak to Lyn."

"Mm…"

"If you wish to test transformation first, do you remember where the solution is that helps ease the strain on the mind? You must take that one first, and only then the main potion. Though I would feel much better if you waited until I was home and could watch over you."

"I remember where it is."

Sitting together like this, sharing their thoughts, was peaceful, comforting. I would like to spend all my days this way — at least when I am free from work or study — until the end of my life, Narseh thought. The feeling of unease still lingered (All my days! — not fleeting visits of half an hour, stolen between duties…), but he was probably imagining things. Everything was fine.

Narseh was so relaxed that his mind drifted too far.

"What?" Ardashir frowned. "A vote among trillions of passengers? I didn't follow that at all."

"Oh, that…" Narseh hesitated. "Sometimes I try to think of jokes in advance. I really admire people who can joke well, but I don’t have a quick mind or a sharp tongue like some. This one was supposed to be about food: we have more ‘bacterions’ in our gut than we have cells in our entire body. So, when I decide what I want to eat, I can’t help but wonder — is this really my choice… or just the result of a vote among trillions of passengers?…" Seeing the confusion on Ardashir’s face, he sighed. "It’s stupid. And not funny at all, is it? I know I have a terrible sense of humor."

"No… no, my dearest. I won’t say it’s funny, at least not in the way I usually think of humor, but it is an interesting observation. Please, never be afraid to share what’s on your mind. Your thoughts are beautiful."

"That’s why only the very best people are granted the privilege of knowing them," Narseh said mischievously.

Ardashir pulled him into a sudden, fierce embrace, pressing a kiss to his temple. "I love you so much… I am so grateful to have met you."

Delighted, Narseh showed him a few more musings: that an octopus was the true symbol of democracy because its arms were practically eight independent minds bound in one body ("That explains why they change colors so easily," Ardashir noted), and that snakes shed their skins without existential crisis because they had no doubt about who they were beneath their old selves ("Now that, I think, is actually quite funny," Ardashir said).

Narseh was almost completely at ease. Everything was fine. He loved, and he was loved. He had likely just been restless, sulking like a child.

Before long, Ardashir sighed, rose from the bench, and went to wash and dress. Soon he emerged in travel-worn leathers and riding boots. He kissed Narseh once more, swiftly, in farewell — then vanished.

Bolstered, however briefly, by their meeting, Narseh reached for the parchment bearing his and Lyn’s half-finished, playful exchange and, with renewed resolve, wrote:

And I have something important to discuss with you. Tomorrow, I want to show you something.