4. Chapter 4
Rowan
The early morning air felt crisp, the ground covered in dew, so neither of them were happy to leave their bedrolls, but needs must. Rowan fried up some bacon and eggs for a quick breakfast, Milo once again did the dishes, and they were back on the road within an hour.
Rowan traveled alongside the cart, Stan easily keeping pace, and he kept stealing glances at the mage driving.
Milo had been quite cheerful this morning, despite the cold, whistling a different tune from yesterday.
Whenever he caught Rowan looking, he’d return the look with a bone-melting smile.
This man—his boyfriend?—was absolutely incorrigible.
Last night, when Milo had asked to date, he’d surprised the hell out of Rowan.
Thanks to people’s typically negative first impressions of him, Rowan was normally the pursuer.
If he met someone he was attracted to enough, he’d start lavishing the person with gifts to win them over.
He wasn’t good at charm or flattery, so gifts often helped soften a person’s perspective of him.
He also liked spoiling loved ones, granted, so it felt natural to give gifts to potential lovers.
Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but he’d never in his life been the one pursued.
He kinda liked it.
It was so refreshing to know the person he was dating actively wanted him, too.
It settled him, somehow. He didn’t feel the need to bend himself into knots trying to please the man.
Granted, Milo was ridiculously easy to please to begin with.
Rowan’s only real concern: Would this relationship actually work long term?
Would Milo become frustrated when he found himself the one usually carrying the conversation?
Would he accuse Rowan of being emotionally distant, like every other man or woman Rowan had tried to date?
He liked to think he learned from his mistakes, but Rowan by nature just wasn’t very emotive. Even when he pushed himself, the action came off as awkward and unnatural.
He would hate for Milo to reach the same conclusion as all of his exes and decide Rowan wasn’t worth the hassle, but he wasn’t sure how to combat what felt like an inevitable conclusion.
Well, Milo loved to talk, so maybe this wouldn’t be a deal-breaker for him?
The thought brought up something else bothering him.
Milo’s little hints here and there suggested people—and not even just exes—tended to be rude or outright dismissive to him.
Yes, he talked a lot, but that wasn’t any excuse to treat someone terribly.
How sad was it that one of the strongest reasons the little mage liked him was that Rowan wasn’t mean?
If Rowan ever met one of those people, he’d punch them dead in the face without hesitation.
Rowan one hundred percent hadn’t expected to bring a boyfriend home, and he mentally girded his loins.
His family was going to get so much mileage out of this.
Being the youngest sibling, they teased him mercilessly to begin with, but this?
When he hadn’t even attempted a hookup in three years?
Yeah, they weren’t going to let this go anytime soon.
Another glance at Milo and his mouth curved up in an unwitting smile.
No matter how bad the teasing, Milo was worth it.
Look at him sitting there, whistling a jaunty tune, happy as a clam.
His platinum blond hair shone under the morning light.
It was likely a trick of the light making it seem as if Milo glowed from within, but the impression was there.
Maybe it was more due to his happy nature.
Hopefully his attitude stuck even after he reached Gravegarde and realized how challenging life could get at the fortress.
In truth, Rowan had intended to give him a rundown of daily life on the trip north. He still needed to, really, he just hadn’t wanted to overwhelm Milo after their conversation yesterday.
“Milo?”
“Yeah, honey-bear?”
Honey-bear? He’d ignore the endearment. Otherwise he’d get sucked into Milo’s pace. Milo could sidetrack a conversation without even trying. “Aside from renewing the ward and healing, if you’re up to it, there is a specific set of tasks you need to do once we arrive.”
“Oooh, lay it on me. What?”
“We have different outlooks—eight watchtowers that are scattered around the duchy. There’s set sigils for communication in each tower, but for some reason, they keep cutting in and out. We can’t always get them to work properly. It’s gotten bad enough we now have signal flags as a backup.”
Milo’s expression turned to one of concern. “Uh. Those don’t work so well in bad weather, though? The flags, I mean. I would think you can’t really see those in a storm.”
“Hence having the sigils installed.” Rowan blew out a weary breath. “In truth, the last four, maybe five? I think it’s five mages who were up here and didn’t last long enough to deal with the sigils. Not that the ones before them were any better.”
“Didn’t last long? Why?”
“Well, some of them came up in fall, replacing another who’d quit early, and the idea of wintering in such a place scared them.
They left before the first real snow could hit.
Some of them couldn’t handle my family. We’re loud”—at least, his siblings were—“and giants. I’m average height for my family. ”
Milo’s eyes nearly popped right out of their sockets. “This I gotta see, as you are not small by any measurement.”
“I know.” Rowan snorted wryly and left it at that. “But most people find my family very intimidating.”
“Ah. Okay, I’m starting to understand now. Awww, are you worried about me?”
“No. If you don’t find me scary, you won’t find my family scary.”
Milo beamed. “I love this confidence you have in me.”
Even Rowan was surprised by his own conclusion. But still, with the way Milo approached life, he didn’t think the mage feared anything. “I’m just relaying to you the problems. I don’t know which one is more important, really, the sigils or the ward. They’re both in trouble.”
“Ward first,” Milo said, not even pausing to think. “No use fixing the sigils if the ward fails. People need a safe place to retreat to, first and foremost.”
“I can’t fault the logic.”
“Has anyone dealt with the ward?”
It was interesting to see Milo in business mode.
He was this aimless, chatty ball of energy most of the time, but Rowan could see the drive that had allowed him to achieve his high mage rank.
He could see the man who’d studied hard to get to his position, who knew how to focus and get the job done.
It was a good look on him. Rowan approved wholeheartedly.
“They have. Patches, I think. I say that because the ward’s still not in good condition.”
“Hmm. Yeah, if the previous mages were running scared, they probably did the bare minimum so they could escape the north. I might have to take it down completely and start from scratch.”
Rowan nearly broke out into a cold sweat just imagining that. “Will that take long?”
“Depends on a lot of factors. How big the ward is, what the power source is, and how much the ward does. Some wards are just for weather, some include protections against certain creatures or groups of people, et cetera. Based on our conversation yesterday, seems your ward protects against weather and creatures, right?”
“Right.”
“Makes sense, makes sense. You said this was the beginning of the season for Drachifel shenanigans?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Well, fuck. Waaaaaait, that’s why you’re so worried about the ward, right?
Because the Drachifel are dormant in the fall, it would have been far safer to take the ward down then and rebuild, but it seems like mages bail right before winter or haven’t done more than minor patches, so you haven’t been able to truly fix the ward. Am I right?”
Milo’s first impression might be that he didn’t have an active brain cell anywhere in his head, but he was quite sharp to put the pieces together so quickly.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Those stupid bastards. Ugh, and now we’re fixing the ward during what’s arguably the most dangerous time.”
Rowan wasn’t happy about it, either. “I’ll protect you as you’re working.”
Rowan would have protected him regardless because he needed the ward and sigils to work, but the idea of Milo being out of the ward, with no one to protect him while he worked, sat incredibly ill with him.
Yes, Milo likely could protect himself, but that didn’t matter to Rowan.
He’d rather be there to defend Milo and let the man safely work.
“Awww, boo-bear, you’re seriously so sweet to me. I’ll take the protection. Hard to focus when I’ve got one eye trained over my shoulder the whole time.”
“That’s what I thought.” The matter settled, Rowan relaxed a hair.
“So”—Milo leaned forward on the cart’s bench, expression eager—“how many people are in your family?”
“Parents, two older sisters, older brother, brother-in-law, and twin nieces.”
“Oh, you’re the baby of the family?”
Rowan let out an aggrieved sigh.
Milo cackled. “It can’t be that bad!”
It was. His siblings always teased him about being the baby of the family. “What about you?”
Something shifted in Milo’s expression. “Eh, no family left for me. I’m an only child, parents deceased.
My Great-Aunt Anabelle raised me, though she recently passed.
Her best friend, Ethel, is like my honorary grandmother.
Ethel’s awesome, really treats me like a grandchild.
She’s also a riot. Huge prankster, that one.
She’s the one I had to help settle in yesterday morning. ”
Rowan’s mouth felt bone dry. “In other words, you two get along like peaches and cream.”
“That we do,” Milo said, though his cheeriness rang false.
Dammit, no wonder Milo had tried to latch on to that ex of his. Milo was absolutely the type to like company and to want close ties. The way he’d initiated the two of them dating told its own story there. But to have lost so many at such a young age?