"We should head back," Ren said, wiping his mouth with the napkin.
Today felt no less than a dream. How long had it been since he had last visited a place like this?
He glanced at the pile of bags a few n were holding. Zayden didn’t want to carry them, claiming they were too heavy—which was, of course, a lie.
For a man who wielded such a large and heavy sword, that weight was nothing. Still, he hired a few commoners to carry their bags.
Ren was taken aback. He insisted he could carry them but Zayden simply wouldn’t let him lay a finger on any of them.
They visited countless shops, ate foods Ren didn’t even know the nas of—street dishes sold only in commoners’ stalls, as nobles called them. They also played countless gas and won prizes, because neither Zayden nor Ren ever missed their targets.
Hearing no answer, Ren looked up.
Just then, Zayden humd—but didn’t move. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, watching Ren with that soft, unreadable smile that made Ren’s heart race.
The oga narrowed his eyes.
"What is it?"
The General kept staring at him, his gaze softening.
"Already? I thought you were enjoying yourself."
"I am..." Ren admitted, a hint of red blooming across his cheeks, his skin warming up. "But it’s late."
Zayden tilted his head slightly, gaze lingering on the falling snow outside. The clouds had grown darker, and night had fallen; the once-bright sun had disappeared from the horizon.
"It’s because the days are shorter in winter..." He mumbled, lowering his gaze to the empty plate.
Ren didn’t say anything, taking a sip of the red wine in the glass near his elbow.
"You know... I have been to these places a few tis, if not often," he said, voice gentle and barely above a whisper. "But with you... It feels magical."
Ren froze, the glass almost slipping a little from his fingers. But he quickly caught it.
"H-How?" he managed, his voice low yet loud enough for Zayden to hear.
The General shrugged lightly, as if the answer was obvious.
"It just does. Don’t you feel like that too?"
Ren’s hand reached for the napkin, hiding half his face behind the tissue again, ears turning red.
"We need to return to the palace."
Zayden’s lips curved into a teasing smirk.
"You sound like a parent," he continued, clearly amused by Ren’s flustered state.
"Maybe because I am one. Are you not?"
"Yes, I am. But I am an unmarried father," Zayden dramatically answered, trying to hold back his laughter.
Ren shook his head, a sigh leaving his mouth.
"You... You took that role upon yourself," His voice suddenly turned sharp, guarded.
"I-I did," the dark-blue-haired man quickly said, raising his hands in the air as if a sword had been held to his neck. "I was joking."
Ren humd, not answering.
"Are you mad? Please don’t be," Zayden panicked, his heart pounding. What was he supposed to do?
"I am not."
"You know, I liked it better when you were blushing in the dress shop," Zayden said, hoping to lighten the tension.
Ren groaned, nearly sinking into his coat, his face turning scarlet red.
"W-We are not talking about that."
"Why not? That was the highlight of my day," the General said, smiling softly.
It seed Ren’s attention had shifted from that matter.
"It was humiliating," the oga muttered, tugging the hood of his jacket down in embarrassnt.
"It was adorable."
Ren froze.
"...Don’t say things like that."
A soft laugh escaped Zayden—quiet, warm, and unfairly "Fine. But why don’t we gaze at the stars on our way ho, Mister Responsible Father?" he suggested, rising from his seat.
Ren stood as well, relieved. Finally, he would be able to see Eiran.
And who knows if he ate properly. I shouldn’t have left him with Enzo...
He was lost in thought until Zayden casually reached out and took his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Z-Zayden—" He stiffened.
Even though the number of people around them had decreased, gazes still followed. Was Zayden really so handso that everyone imdiately turned to look at him?
Well... he is, indeed, handso.
Ren admitted inwardly, not daring to say it aloud.
"Your focus should be on while we are together."
"Eiran should be ho by now."
"Yes. Enzo will bring him to the palace safely. He doesn’t look like it but he is good with magic. And I had a few knights follow them."
Ren frowned.
"When?"
"Well... While you were enjoying your ga at the balloon popping shop."
"Alright," the oga tried to pull his hand away.
"No," Zayden said simply, intertwining their fingers, his grip tightening. "I am not letting go."
He gently pulled Ren out of the warm building.
The chill of the snowy street sent Ren a deep chill, catching air in his throat for a mont before he could breathe again. The marketplace lights flickered around them like scattered stars, not blinding like the chandeliers of the palace.
It felt calm... and peaceful.
The cold air brushed against Ren’s cheeks as they walked, hand in hand.
"Zayden..." Ren tried again, voice lower this ti. "People are watching."
"Let them," Zayden replied, gaze fixed ahead. "I finally get to enjoy a day like this—with you."
Ren’s breath caught.
The snow drifted around them, soft and quiet, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Although it was most likely him.
"Co," Zayden added, his tone softening. "If we hurry, we can find a carriage before it gets darker. The stars look clearer from the main road too."
Ren swallowed, unable to decide which frightened him more: the cold, the closeness, how safe Zayden’s hand felt in his, or the way tears were forming in his eyes. He couldn’t cry—he shouldn’t.
"Ren?"
When he heard his na, they already stood at the high road, the hired n carrying their bags following them closely.
"Yes?" His voice ca out unexpectedly dry.
"At the banquet. You wanted to say sothing. What was it?"
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