Lanai followed along without making too much noise- aside from some awkward shuffling around to get all of her wings through the doorway, that is. She held her arms out at Simonea's request, taking note of the other girl's nervous energy and doing her best to return her smile. And then, all of a sudden...

Oh dear. She was crying. Or at least... she assumed this was how people felt when they cried, but she couldn't recall ever having experienced it herself. It was... a bit scary. Uncomfortable. But it also felt kind of... good, in a way? Like every tear took a little bit of the tension and stress away with it. Honestly, she wasn't really sure how she felt about it overall, but she couldn't go falling to pieces now when Simonea was clearly struggling to hold it together herself.

"Oh. Ahaha! This is... I'm sorry. I'm really not used to this."

She started to wipe away at the tears, but for whatever reason, she couldn't get them to stop coming. Gods, was it really this hard to do? She couldn't imagine feeling this vulnerable on a regular basis.

"I'm fine! I'm fine. Promise. Just a little overwhelmed, I suppose."

Why did it still sting? She wanted to scream at him for his insolence. Who would dare tell the Shah to their face at the lack of power and awe their own nation ought to boast?

She felt the words simmer inside her, and needed another moment to swallow down her anger.

But... it... were... this true... what did it mean of her and her seat? Her power? Perhaps.. perhaps she had met this poor cursed man for a purpose. Surely Hakeshna would not save her just to throw her away on a weakening dynasty...


Weakening... from what the man said.. the country was well beyond that. She studied Ghaej, keeping herself humbled over the fact this man- thiugh ugly as he might look- had saved her life- and now.. was being honest with her over secrets many could not know.


So.. she swallowed her pride, though it proved difficult- the simple act making her feel sick. 

"You.. make it sound like our fate is sealed," she said, voice low- and it was hard to hide her tartness.

"Twice?" He bemoaned looking especially pained. "Your poor ears." Theo resisted just barely the urge to brush up against Fletcher as he passed the man. He just so much desired being close to the man and even that would bring him a drop of sustenance for the hunger within him. But he behaved and walked ahead with neither touch nor teasing.

Piling into the carriage gave him his own pause as it brought back its own memories. He had not been in one since that unfortunate night as Edwina had always been the one to visit him rather than him visit her. For a moment he attempted to back pedal only for his father to give a sharp look. Theo hung his head and entered to sit beside his mother in her excessively sparkly and puffy dress. He clenched and unclenched his fists while tamping down the bile in his throat. Over and over he counted to ten in every language he knew as the carriage bounced along, his breath shallow, sharp, staccato and almost harsh in its exit and entry.

How was he meant to survive this outing when he couldn't even get through a carriage ride without having a panic attack?

An echo of the day of the debutante ball jolted him to attention. This time, though, his gaze was returned, and with no one there but the two of them, Theo could see exactly how enamored Fletcher really was. He looked the nobleman up and down slowly and appreciatively before clearing his throat and forcing himself stoic again. "That's not the word I'd use," he managed. "What. Me? With the — " He waved a hand dismissively at his own face. "Can you imagine? My luck, I'd look like I belonged in a bloody circus. Anyways, come on. Your mum's shrieked up the stairs twice now. Let's just get it all over with."

Fletch gestured for Theo to go ahead of him, then followed behind the man. With every step, he sank further into that fateful day: Theo's engagement, the attack, Ash's death. There was a pit in his gut at the thought of reliving parts of it. He'd be in the carriage with the three of them, the whole time focusing on keeping his cards to his chest. Theo and Edwina would play the same stupid game. His only consolation now was that neither of them meant it. Well, that and the fact that every time he met the Baron's eye, a triumphant thought bubbled up to the surface:

I'm sleeping with your son, and you don't even know it. How's that for homosexuals and deviants?

It was draining and lonely but Theo kept to his word and respected Fletcher's boundaries and did not make advances on him, instead waiting to be given the go ahead. After their few short nights together though he found himself miserable for their return. He craved the touch and affection he had been gifted in Fletcher's arms. Now that he had tasted love, he desired it more and always. 

He had to content himself with watching his love from the balcony absolutely demolish training dummy after dummy. It was torture for Theo knowing the man he loved was hurting and there was nothing he could do to protect him or heal him. That work was for Fletcher alone to do. Until then he could just remain a quiet support. 

In the meantime he was busy secretly acquiring gifts for family and friends alike. There was the barrel of mulled wine for the staff, cigars for his father, ribbons for his mother, fancy sweets for Kenna, another spirit ball friend for Aneisha, and so on and so forth. Fletcher's gift was proving to be more complicated however. Theo had every intention of gifting the other man a copy of the pirate romance novel he'd first pilfered from Theo's collection. But, he also wanted to steal the man's coat and have it not only repaired but have new and additional charms added to it besides the warning charm that had been broke since the night Ashley had been killed. 

He was in fact completely wrapped up in thinking of presents that when the servants came to assist with his attire for the ball, he was not at all ready. It was a massive rush then to get him all back in order so that when they all left, giggling and twittering as they passed Fletcher in the hall Theo was still trying to collect himself. 

Rosy-cheeked and somewhat stressed looking, the nobleman finally emerged from his room in a deep royal blue set of tailored robes with silver threading that looked like stars. His freckles were once more powdered into oblivion and there was something dusted into his hair that made it sparkle as it reflected in the light.

"I look silly," he griped as he exited and stood in the empty hall across from Fletcher. "Why don't the rest of you ever get to dress up and suffer like this?"

"Sure, sure. I've got it. Go rest. I'll be here."

True to his word, Fletcher stayed and tended to the fire, keeping the two of them warm despite the distance that had grown between them. And that same distance lingered. Days passed, and yet that raw feeling didn't abate. Instead it twisted back into rage at what he'd never known, never heard, never been given. He spent much of his off time beating the practice dummies to shreds as he tried desperately to channel that vitriol into something that wasn't Theo. And it worked. It did. But it didn't change the fact that their nights were lonely ones, now.

By the end of the week, an altogether different kind of despair had befallen them: a Yule party. The good was that it was at some other noble arsewipe's manor, and so the Baroness wasn't running around screaming at the staff for five days prior. The bad was that Fletcher couldn't even escape back to his room if he wanted to. He'd be trapped with these awful people until Theo's parents decided it was time to make their exit. No smoking, no drinking. Just standing with that signature expression like there was a stick up him.

The worse was that Edwina would be there, and Neal wouldn't be.

Fletch waited in the hall outside of Theo's room, already plenty sour at the thought of wasting a night at this stupid thing. But at least, he thought, he wouldn't be alone this time.

Theo nodded. "I am tired," he admitted freely. "I felt like a donkey to you and I couldn't sleep. I missed having you close and just spent the night mad at myself. Just figured sitting outside at least I wouldn't bother anyone and could still keep awake and enjoy the day. Apparently being cozy when it's cold just makes you sleepy. Who'd have known?"

He dragged himself to his feet and stretched before trundling off to his bed. "Can you do the fire again though please? You always do it best and I'm too much of a fire risk."

Fletch grimaced, not at the questions, but at the answer to them. "If I leave to be alone, I'll just keep drinking. Best I stay. You do what you want, though, you just...look very tired, love, that's all."

"Devlin," he repeated practicing how it felt on his tongue with an unconscious smile. "I can do that. Your real name just when it's us then?"

He regarded him some feeling greatly unsure on how to ask his next question. Was it better to accept the offer without question or to saddle Fletcher with another choice?

"Is that what you want? Do you want to be alone with your thoughts? Do you want company or even distraction? Do you even want to be in the same room as me right now? You do not need to stay. But you are welcome to."

It sounded so much more right than Theo using Ven's old name for him. Like he could start to let that era of his life ebb away. Theo had talked of them both trying to heal, and maybe that was already what this was. Maybe it was just the part where the cut hurts worse than when it was first made — before the wound finally begins to close.

"With a D, same as Daw." Fletch signed the letter as he spoke it. "And anything. Just not Mr. Fletcher."

He looked Theo over, noting the man's dark circles and weighted brow. He looked exhausted. Like he truly hadn't slept at all over this. Fletch motioned to the bed with a slight jerk of the head. "If you need to sleep, I can stay here. Make sure you aren't disturbed."