Old Time's Sake

He moved through the city freely, the early morning air still fresh with dew. Many were just starting to wake, the streets still sleepy. The cobblestone held standing water from the summer storm that had passed the night before, splashing cool water up the hooves of his horse as he trotted down the road with an echoing clip-clop. The air was chilly, causing him to pull his black tailcoat tighter around his waist, holding his head down to the breeze. He did not mind the cold, it was refreshing, but there was something insulting about its bite when he had left his fiance’s warmth behind in bed.

He did not like keeping secrets from her, especially after they had spoken so in depth about being honest. It twisted his heart, crushing it with guilt and tightening his chest in a way that made it hard to breathe. But with Jericho’s words still fresh in his mind, he knew this would be what was best. Not for him, but for her. She did not need to worry, did not need to think more of what she had been through; Basileios would shoulder such for her.

Or, he would try.

It still angered him. This was an anger that he would carry to the grave, that would make him twitch if anyone even dared to look at her wrong. An anger that he feared would fuel him to do something stupid, reckless, rash. An anger that desperately needed help, from Jericho, and now, hopefully, Nikolai, for if he left it up to himself...

A soft nicker from his horse brought his attention out of the depths of his mind, and he picked up his head just in time to smile at a passing noble with a polite nod as he did the same. Basileios had tried so hard to keep their reputation intact when Lasair was gone; to pretend that nothing was wrong. But he had a feeling that they knew. From missed invitations to the pair rarely being seen together for almost a month… something was not right and they knew it. He had not heard the rumors yet, but he was sure they would make their rounds. It was the devilish glint in the eye of the fellow that passed that solidified such concerns.

He hadn’t realized how tightly he had been gripping his reins, his nails digging into the thin gloves that covered his palms. He let out a sigh, his breath puffing before his lips.

What a change in pace, he mused, for now it was him that was concerned about their image while Lasair was ready to burn it to the ground. And yet, he knew he would provide her the match if she asked.

Finally, he found himself coming to the gates of the familiar manor, pulling his horse to a stop before slipping gracefully from the saddle. His boots splashed onto the wet streets, his coat fluttered in the breeze. Leaving his horse with a servant that bustled out, he stepped through the gate, waving off the others who tried to get the door for him.

“Leave us be.” He told them, his tone stern and tired, for not only was he worried for the state of his fiance, but for how his friend would welcome him. It truly had been too long.

He knew where his friend would be on such a morning, his boots echoed with each step as he helped himself to the hallways, peering through doors and up stairwells. Finally, he brought himself to the gardens, lingering at the doorway with the gentle breeze toying with his hair.

There the man was, among the dew-kissed flowers. Basileios cleared his throat, rapping his knuckles on the door frame to catch his attention with a small, lopsided smile forming on his lips.