Page 38 of A Winter Courtship
Ulrich chuckled.
“We can collect more pine cones tomorrow if need be. It’s easy enough,” Lutoth said. “We can collect lots and put a bowl out for her.”
A thud sounded. Ethel walked towards them. Boughs of greenery that they’d placed around the window had slid downwards, joining the others on the ground.
Ethel dropped down next to them. Lutoth and Ulrich shuffled to make room for her large body, which crowded against Lutoth. She tucked her legs under her chest. Then she lowered her antlered head and closed her eyes.
“All tired now after decorating?” Lutoth rubbed her muscled flank. “What a good girl you are!”
“It’s nice that you care about her,” Ulrich said.
“It’s easy when she’s so sweet.” Lutoth yawned as he leaned into Ulrich.
“Not everyone feels the same as you.” Ulrich smiled. “Want some more dinner?”
Lutoth touched his extended stomach. “I don’t think I could eat any more.”
They’d supped on a rich lentil stew, which Lutoth had prepared under Ulrich’s supervision, along with fresh rolls from the bakery. After that, they’d devoured a Solstice loaf.
“But I could have some more mulled wine,” Lutoth said.
The mulled wine stewed in a pot on the stove. The smell of the wine, infused with orange peel, cinnamon, star anise, and cloves, hung heavy in the air, mixing with the scent of pine.
Ulrich rose, grabbed a mug, and ladled the red liquid into the cup. He handed it to Lutoth and then ladled some for himself.
Lutoth held the warm mug in both hands, watching the steam rise. He inhaled the fragrant brew. “And maybe I’ll have some cinnamon star cookies.”
Ulrich’s eyebrow rose. “I thought you said you couldn’t eat any more.”
“It’s just a little cookie.” Lutoth sipped the mulled wine. The heated liquid slid down his throat and into his belly. He moaned.
“Not if you eat twenty of them,” Ulrich said, laughing. He grabbed a parcel of cookies. He dropped them in Lutoth’s lap and sat beside him, pulling the blanket over their legs.
Lutoth unwrapped the parcel and picked up one of the star-shaped cookies with white icing on the top. He popped it into his mouth. The cookie melted, and the taste of cinnamon, sugar, and butter exploded on his tongue.
“Mmmm.” Lutoth chewed, already reaching for another.
Ulrich chuckled. “I can’t believe how much you eat. You eat the same amount as me, and I’m twice the size of you.” He patted his rounded belly.
“It’s because I’m half-oread, half-sylph. I climb and move so fast and far. It takes a lot of energy to keep me going.” He bit into a second cookie.
Ulrich rubbed Lutoth’s leg beneath the blanket, a strange expression flitting across his face. Then it was gone.
Lutoth ate his cookies, studying Ulrich’s face. Lutoth thought about the day they’d visited the valley. Lutoth had seen how Ulrich had looked at him when the wind howled. And since then, he’d noticed that strange expression several times on Ulrich’s face. Was he worried Lutoth would leave? Was that what that expression meant?
Lutoth wanted to reassure Ulrich that he wouldn’t leave him. But all he had were words to try to convince him. And he didn’t know if words would be enough. He swallowed the cookie in his mouth and reached for another.
Maybe all he could do was show Ulrich that he could be constant and that he wouldn’t leave him. And maybe Ulrich just needed time to fully believe and trust him to stay.
And Lutoth could give him time. And he would stay. He’d been disciplined, ignoring the call of the wind these past few weeks. And although the pull of the wind was strong, so was Lutoth. He’d fought against the temptation. Even though it had cost him.
He rolled his shoulders. Since he’d begun ignoring the wind, he’d noticed a tension building inside his muscles and bones. But he could work through it. He had to for Ulrich. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t go anywhere. He wouldn’t let Ulrich down.
He’d stay here in Ores and the valley. Never far from Ulrich. Then Ulrich would trust him and the strange expression would stop appearing on Ulrich’s face. Then they’d just have wonderful days like this.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Sweat dripped down Ulrich’s face and neck. The roaring of the fire and the hammering of metal against metal resounded in the smithy. Using his tongs, Ulrich lifted the metal and placed it into the forge, burying it amongst the glowing coals.
