"Oh," Dav says softly, breaking stride. "That sounds lovely, doesn't it?"
"What?" I ask, realizing that I hadn't been listening at all.
"The Ariki's choice of token. He gave her a hair-bead. Though not quite in keeping with your fashion sense," he teases. "I think something more traditional for you, yes? How about a golden cuff?"
"A cuff," I echo, brain finally catching up to what he means. He's talking about something to replace the pin. Something to mark me as his.
Owned.
"No. Not a cuff."
Too much like manacles.
"A Favorite may wear a ring, but—"
"Too soon," I croak, struck by the other connotations of a ring.
"Right. As you say," Dav concedes, and if he's sad to hear it, he's turned his face away so I can't tell.
Over morning coffee on the patio, Dav takes something out of his pocket and puts it on the table between us. For a wild, gut-clenching second, I think it's a ring box. A tiny blip of rage follows because we had literallyjust talkedabout this and—
It's a phone.
It'smyphone.
"Uh." I take a sip of my coffee. It’s notbad, but it’s certainly not dragon-roasted.
"Call your Mum."
I stare at him for a moment. "I know we're kinda working on the together-forever-thing, but I didn't think you'd start nagging me this quick."
Dav rolls his eyes at me, fond and exasperated. "You have hundreds of texts, Colin. Talk to everyone. Tell them you're okay."
I pick up my phone, frowning now. "You snooped?"
"You have lock-screen alerts on, and I only picked it up because I thought you'd left it on the nightstand by accident."
"Sure." I thumb it open. The easy morning calm crumbles into a shameful sinking in my chest when I see how many calls I've missed.
"It wasn't an accident, then?" Dav asks gently.
"Maybe," I twist out, flipping the phone over in my hands, fiddling. "I don't know what to tell them."
"The truth. I'm back, and you're spending some time with me to reconnect."
"I barely understand how I feel about all the paps stuff, how do I explain when I—Christ, Dav, I just… There's gotta be like, I dunno, Royal Watcher social media bullshit—"
"Tell them it's all bullshit, then." I look up at him, eyes on his mouth, loving the sound of curses in his old-fashioned accent. "Tell them the news has it wrong," he adds.
"Even if the news has it right?"
"The newsneverhas it right," Dav says gravely. "Call them. It's a fine thing, to have a family who loves you."
I inhale at that, try to make it sound like a non-committal sound, when it was really a gasp of horror. Of course. I'm a selfish prick.
My family may pester, but Dav's literally whips him.
"Fine." I stand up to put some space between my… lover? Fiancé? Boyfriend? I have no idea what I should be calling Dav now. To him, I'm his Favorite. For me, he's my… there's gotta be a dragonish word for what he is to me now. Dav watches from the patio, and I know his ears are sharper than human ones. Walking away from him is really only givingmea sense of privacy, but I can live with that.