Cursed be early mornings.

"May I take your luggage, Lord Clausson?" a footman of unknown appearance asked as Frey finally made it out on the doorstep of the BBT mansion. Frey had neither bothered with looking at him upon interaction, nor were his eyes awake enough to fully process anything in front of him.

"Assuming that's your job," he said coldly as his sleepy vision finally located the carriage designated to take him to West Kerilia.

He didn't care to acknowledge any reply, instead heading down to get in the carriage, happily falling into his seat and embracing the comfortable peace and quiet. Getting up early was bad enough, what with the dressing and Damien next to forcing breakfast into his mouth, so he was not about to stand out in the cold to answer a footman's questions about his own job.

He glanced down at his attire. Had he tied his cravat sloppily? It was hard to see, and he hadn't exactly been awake enough to see the mirror that clearly. Not that it mattered, he supposed. Servants wouldn't notice something like that.

Leaning his head back, he released a breath of relief as the carriage began moving. He could easily fall asleep if he wanted to, which he might as well do. It was a well earned reward for suffering that early in the morning.

Then the carriage came to a halt after only a short while, and Frey irately opened an eye to peer outside. Had they forgotten something?

The carriage door opened, and the footman entered to place another suitcase under the seat. He gave Frey an ingenuine smile before exiting again, and to Frey's horror and bafflement another person entered instead.

He stared in disbelief as Marius sat down in the seat opposite to him, looking awfully pleased with his surroundings.

"Good morning," he then said, finally facing Frey after having taken in the interior of the carriage with an 'ooh'. "You're looking nice as alw— Wait."

He had the audacity to lean forward and adjust Frey's cravat, with the result of the mortified victim of attire correction barely breathing as he did.

Frey couldn't let that slide.

"Stable boy," he said dryly as Marius leaned back again. "I fear you've misplaced yourself."

Marius wagged a finger at him.

"It's Marius."

"Regardless, I doubt you should be in here."

"But I should, actually." Marius leaned against the seat, daring to look smug. "Because I've been ordered to assist you."

Frey didn't show his inevitable shock.

"... Why?"

"While your taste in horses is impeccable, Lord Hargreaves thought it wise to send someone who knows what to look for when it concerns working horses." Marius shrugged. "Now I'm sure you have a good eye for most things regarding horses, but I'm more than happy to come along since he asked."

Frey's facial features remained unmoved, partly because he had no intention to show his feelings to Marius, and partly because the man he wanted to show his feelings to wasn't there. What was Damien's deal? Sending Marius along specifically with him couldn't be a coincidence. Like Marius said, Frey would have no problem picking out good horses regardless of their purpose, so he must have other motives behind it.

"But still, are you really supposed to be sitting there?" Frey promptly looked out the window, deciding to deal with his meddling mentor later.

"Why not?" Marius blinked. "Where else would I sit?"

"Well, one could think you'd be the one driving or something, for instance," Frey remarked. "Or at least not be in the opposite seat to me."

"And yet here I am." Marius beamed. "Because I've never driven a carriage before, and I'm coming along for other reasons anyway."

The footman poked his head through the door.

"Everything all set, Lord Clausson?" He gave Marius a brief, possibly disdainful glance before looking over at Frey again. Then he had the nerve to look amused as he eyed the two of them so close to each other. Frey supposed there was a certain hierarchy among servants too, and the arrogant Lord Clausson sharing a space with a stable boy had to be a treat to witness.

There was no end to Frey's humiliation, no matter what social class he was subjected to.

He dismissed the footman with a handwave and turned to look the other way. Marius may have taken liberties, but no other servants were allowed to think they were worth his time of day.

"So I hear you're visiting your family first," Marius said as the carriage began moving. "That's nice. Most of my family is in North Kerilia so I haven't—"

"We don't have to talk, stable boy," Frey interrupted, still looking away.

"We're back to that?" Marius sounded hurt. "I thought we'd sorted that awkwardness out before."

Frey grimaced on the inside. Would the coachman or footman hear them if they talked? Would he want to risk it just to have a casual conversation?

"Fine," he mumbled. "What were you about to say?"

He could see Marius' surprised look from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, uh, well... My family's from North Kerilia, and I don't have a lot of time to go visit them so it's been a while, so... I thought it was nice for you that you can go visit yours while you're at it with work and all."

Frey spared him a subtle glance, highly questioning his own judgement before replying.

"My sister just had a daughter, so I thought I might as well go and see her."

"That's great!" Marius leaned forward, and Frey wished he'd keep his voice down. "Congratulations!"

"... It's not my daughter."

"But you're an uncle now, right? For the first time."

Frey wasn't sure he enjoyed the title, natural as it may be. Still, he nodded.

"I suppose."

"I'm the third youngest of eight, so I've had a fair share of nieces and nephews already." Marius grinned. "The family gatherings sure get loud."

"Seven siblings?" Frey had to scrunch up his nose. "And I thought two were horrifying enough."

"Depends on the siblings." Marius shrugged. "Some are more of a handful than others."

"Maybe," Frey had to agree with a slow, absentminded nod. "I know my sisters don't stand a chance against the Hargreaves twins in terms of handfulness."

Marius chuckled.

"Who does?"

Frey doubted Marius had heard half of it when it concerned the twins and their shenanigans, but it was true nonetheless.

"So when your siblings had children..." He realised he'd now succumbed to the conversation entirely by asking questions back. "... What did you give them?"

"The siblings or the children?"

"I don't know." Frey wrinkled his eyebrows. "Both?"

"Well, it depends." Marius rubbed his neck in thought. "I guess there haven't been any big, expensive gifts or such, but there's always been something. Mostly we've just helped out with painting the baby rooms or building furniture. Or taking care of the babies sometimes so the parents can rest."

"So more like offering time and effort rather than a physical gift."

"It's just more valuable to us that way." Marius shrugged. "I mean, I get that someone like you would choose expensive things, but that's because you already have people to do the more tiring things for you."

"Well..." Frey drummed his fingers against his leg. "... I've been considering giving her a horse instead."

Marius tried to stifle a laugh.

"I guess if anyone would consider that a non-expensive gift, it would be you. Are you gonna look for one while we're at the stables anyway, then?"

Frey shook his head.

"I was thinking maybe Tea For Two could have an offspring."

"Oh." Marius gawked. "Oh, alright then. That changes things."

"It just seems like a shame for a horse like her to never have one." Frey finally noticed his finger-drumming and irately clenched his fists together. "And I don't want just anyone with money to buy her, so thought I'd keep it in the family, and Tea For Two is still young enough to have plenty of years left so I won't need a new one for a while."

"I think that's very generous of you, considering it's you and Tea For Two we're talking about." Marius still stared in disbelief. "Unexpectedly so."

Frey narrowed his eyes.

"Why?"

"You just didn't strike me like the doting uncle type." Marius seemed to disregard the glare. "But you're giving your baby niece an expensive-blooded horse the first time you ever meet her."

"And also this," Frey said, holding up a parcel placed next to him. "But I'm not doting on anyone."

Marius raised an eyebrow, lips quirking before he could forbid them to.

"A horse, and still more?"

"It just felt strange to go there empty-handed." Frey's gaze remained on the parcel. "It's just symbolic, to have something to hand over."

"See, I doubt it's that small."

"It's just a music box," Frey objected. "It was a last minute thing. The design was already done, so all I got a say in was the music and the engraving."

"How..." Marius looked even more amused now. "... Quaint and 'just' symbolic, indeed."

Frey wrinkled his eyebrows.

"Yes, like I said. I didn't have much time. I showed the clockmaker my old music box from when I was a child so he could recreate the melody, but I guess it takes a lot of time anyway. So I... Know it's not much, but—"

"You have to understand I was joking." Marius finally laughed. "And it keeps getting better. You had him recreate the melody you used to listen to?"

"It was the quickest way." Frey put the box down with a disgruntled look. "Besides, it's a nice melody."

"Is it one I would recognise?"

Frey thought for a moment, wondering if it was too embarrassing that he'd remembered such a detail, but he still wanted to respond.

"Do you remember the song I was playing when you were eavesdropping on me in the piano room?"

"This whole thing about me eavesdropping so much is beginning to feel harsh."

"Well you do."

Marius pursed his lips together, but admitted defeat with a nod.

"Fine. But it was that song, then?"

"Do you remember it?"

"Not at all, I'm afraid." Marius grimaced. "I only heard it once, and briefly. Not sure I'd remember any song that way."

"That makes sense," Frey said, voice lower as the dreaded embarrassment wanted to take hold of him.

"Maybe you could play it again sometime," Marius suggested. "Or you could hum it now."

"I'm not going to do that."

"Figured." Marius gave him an eye-crinkling smile. "But for what it's worth, coming from someone like me, I think you're quite the force to be reckoned with when it comes to gift giving."

"The three of them have never been enthusiastic about presents anyway, so they can't really complain to be honest." Frey rested his gaze on his knees. "It was always my—"

He swallowed. It was alright, he assured himself. Marius wouldn't linger on it.

"My father." He drew a silent breath. "He was always the one in charge of gifts."

Marius nodded slowly in thought.

"So... Perhaps you've taken over that role now?"

Frey hadn't considered it, but there could be truth to it.

He still chose to scoff.

"Someone has to." He shrugged it off. "And despite my lack of preparation, I'm sure whatever they've gotten me will pale in comparison."

Marius tilted his head with an inquiring look.

"You're getting things today as well?"

Frey masked a grimace.

"... Yes."

"Why? Just a coming home thing?"

"No, it's..." Frey knew it would lead to unwanted excitement, but it would be awkward if Marius learned about it later. "... It's my birthday, so..."

As expected, Marius' jaw dropped.

"It's your—"

Frey shushed what was sure to have been a loud, excessive question, and Marius obediently lowered his voice.

"Why didn't you tell me that sooner?" His attempt at whispering while still keeping up the excitement was endearing in a way, but mostly amusing. "I could at least have gotten you something. Also, you're working on your birthday? With you being you, I doubt you couldn't have gotten out of that."

Frey sighed through his nose before lowering his voice to match Marius' volume.

"First of all, I didn't know you were coming along. Second, I don't need a nursery painted, and yes I could have taken a day off but I didn't want to. I volunteered to go."

"I can do other things than painting," Marius objected, still in laughable, hushed whispers. "And why wouldn't you choose to enjoy this day? I thought out of anyone, you'd have some huge celebration planned at the manor."

Frey turned to look out the window again.

"I'm busy."

"Couldn't something like this wait? I think—"

"I said I'm busy."

The small space fell into silence, and Frey's mood sank. As always with Marius, he'd dropped his guard and engaged in small talk. It wasn't too strange when he thought about it. Few people cared to ask about his personal life in a way that couldn't possibly be gossip-worthy, and it was nice. Frey rarely got to talk about things he actually cared about.

"I... Don't think it's surprising that I'd like to avoid big celebrations right now." He clenched his jaw in reluctance. "Especially not when it's about me specifically."

Another moment of silence, and he could see through the corner of his eye that Marius' gaze had fallen to the floor.

"I guess I can get that," Marius said to break the silence. "And I know it's easy for me to say screw them and move on, but... Not that easy for you."

Frey could definitely say it quietly, when no one could hear him, evidently several times a day.

"It would not be the best move, no."

Marius nodded in thought.

"So... Would it be rude of me to ask how old you're turning?"

"Yes." Frey curled his lip. "But then most questions you've asked me are rude, considering your class and how you should not be having casual conversations with me at all."

"If that's how it is, I think it's very rude— or at least inappropriate of you to kiss—"

Frey shot forward to press his hand against Marius' mouth. His own lowered voice might have escaped detection from the coach and footman, but Marius' might not have, and he was not about to risk it.

In the next moment, Frey became painfully aware of why people sat down in cramped, bumpy spaces, as the carriage slowed just a little but enough to throw him off his balance. To make matters worse, Marius made no attempt at preventing his fall, instead accepting the collision without a word.

"What—" Frey began, face immediately flushing as his body pressed against Marius'. In an effort to not flail around like an unbecoming fool he pressed his hands against the seat to heave himself up, but the lack of support from his feet made it difficult.

Marius remained unhelpful, only leaning his head back a little to make way for Frey's struggling.

"Why—" Frey gritted his teeth as he made another attempt to push himself away. "Why aren't you helping me?"

"I reckoned it was bad enough that you had to touch my servant mouth with your hand." Marius' voice had lowered into a whisper again, masking his emotions and leaving Frey unsure whether it was another joke or if he was serious. "So I wanted to make sure that any further physical contact was not my fault."

Frey sucked in a silent breath, finally regaining foothold enough to back away. He fought to keep eye contact as he sat down again. He couldn't avert his gaze and indicate shame, because he didn't feel any. He definitely didn't.

It was still difficult, and he raised his chin in an attempt to emphasise how unbothered he was.

"That's a little less rude of you, then."

"Yes, who would have thought all I had to do to be decent was having you crash into me without trying to prevent it."

Marius was smiling again, but Frey couldn't shake the feeling that he was being insincere. He had studied the people around him growing up so carefully it was easy to discern after a while, but he'd yet to understand Marius' expressions that well. Was his uncertainty due to it being logical for Marius to be offended, and he was jumping to conclusions?

"It's fine," Marius then said, as if understanding Frey's confusion. "It didn't hurt or anything."

Frey wouldn't acknowledge the indirect forgiveness with an apology but he still ended up turning his head away, pretending to once again look at the view.

"Thirty," he then said with only a brief glance at Marius.

"What?"

"I'm turning thirty."

Another wide-eyed stare from Marius made Frey wonder if he'd have to shut him up again.

"So it's a big one too? Why in Sihlea's name are you working today?"

"I'm bus—"

"No, you're not." Marius shook his head so his curls got in his face. "You haven't worked all year from what I've heard, and even if you're getting back into it there's no reason to dive so deep that you can't celebrate something like this."

"I've missed a lot," Frey said coldly at the interruption. "I can't just return as if nothing happened."

Marius opened his mouth to object again, but Frey's relentless stare forced him into silence. He had no business telling Frey what he should or shouldn't do regarding his work, or life for that matter. Frey wasn't so sure he enjoyed the ensuing silence though. He usually did, he reminded himself. He hated pointless small talk. That's why he'd been so bothered by Marius joining him in the first place, but he couldn't help throwing a glance or two in Marius' direction while pretending to inspect his nails.

"So..." He finally caved in, because it was too late to ignore him anyway. "... I assume you'll be staying at some tavern until tomorrow?"

"Yeah, the same as these two," Marius pointed over his shoulder to where the coach and footman were located on the other side. "They're not thrilled about it."

"I did suspect stable boys aren't well thought of even by servant standards."

"In Mr. Harper's defence, his position is pretty fancy," Marius argued, with Frey having to guess it was the coachman he was referring to. "But... Inside servants tend to be a little more snarky towards outside ones, depending."

Then he smiled.

"But I wear people down."

Frey pretended not to hear it.

"And you'll be sharing a room with them?"

"Just Wesley and I. Mr. Harper gets his own."

Frey pondered it, reluctantly. Footmen were generally known for good looks, and Marius wasn't bad looking himself. The idea of them sharing a small tavern room irked him.

"Fortunately for Wesley, I plan on being outside most of the day," Marius continued. "No way I'm going to West Kerilia just to sit around in a stuffy tavern."

"Right..." Frey thought of something, and he reached down to open his valise. "... You know, if you're going to walk around anyway, perhaps you could run some errands for me."

Marius gave him a puzzled look, or at least Frey assumed as much judging by the silence as he went through the bag.

"You want me to do that?" Marius asked as Frey fished out a book and lead pencil. "Shouldn't that be entrusted to Mr. Harper, or even Wesley, or... Yourself?"

"Usually," Frey agreed. "But I'll have little time as it is, and despite the absurdity of it all, I know you better than them, and even more absurdly, I trust your judgement in horse equipment. Not just quality, but the design of it."

The fact that Frey didn't want to roam around out of fear that people would harass him was left unsaid.

"What if I run off with the money then?" Marius raised an eyebrow. "What if I use it to buy a hundred birthday cakes for you?"

"If you can buy a hundred birthday cakes in a day, I'll allow it by sheer astonishment." Frey's face remained emotionless while opening his book. "But less than that and you'll have to pay it back, so... I wouldn't risk it if I were you."

He held his book forward to show Marius a list.

"Here's what you'll need to buy."

Marius stared at the paper just for a second before grimacing.

"I can't read."

Frey blinked.

"You—"

"It's actually not that common," Marius added before Frey could judge him. "Reading, I mean. Not for people like me."

Frey reconsidered his choice. Perhaps he should have left it to someone else after all, but he'd already told Marius to do it, so he leaned forward just a little to point at one of the words.

"This says 'stirrups'."

"But I have no way of knowing that without you." Marius shook his head. "I— Like, I can't... Read. At all."

Frey sighed, but leaned back again to pick up his pencil.

"Is that... A pen?" Marius asked while Frey got to work. "I thought you'd use ink and quill or something."

"In other cases, because I have to." Frey wrinkled his forehead, gaze still on the page. "But this is more convenient in places like this... Also I don't like the sound or the feeling of writing with a quill."

Marius let out a soft 'ah'.

"Here." Frey held the book forward again. "That should make it clearer."

Marius looked down at the rough sketch of two stirrups, and to Frey's frustration he dared to smile a little.

"And the others?"

"Well this says 'stirrup leathers'," Frey continued down the list with a frown. "You'll notice the first word is the same as the one above."

"Are you going to draw that too?"

Frey pinched his lips together, but quietly drew the leathers attached to the existing stirrups, drawing lines from each word to the corresponding part.

"Shouldn't Master Reimar already be handling all this?" Marius inquired. "Or one of the grooms? Why should you have to bother with equipment?"

"He doesn't buy the ones I want, and Damien doesn't force him to either." Frey wrinkled his nose. "But we always used the ones from the shops I'm sending you to when I was younger, and there's a significant difference."

He noticed Marius was growing gradually more amused by his drawings, and he scowled.

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all," Marius hurriedly said. "So, uh... What's next?"

"I'll be ordering a custom made set for Tea For Two."

"A set?"

"Saddle, bridle, leg wraps, blanket, and so on. They'll match."

"Of course." Marius nodded. "Just... Gotta remember it all."

The wrinkle in Frey's brow increased, but he grabbed his pencil again.

"I'll just draw a horse with the equipment and circle them."

"You're... Gonna draw a horse?"

Frey responded with a disgruntled glance.

It took longer than Frey had expected, but he finally leaned back to get a better look of the whole sketch, nodding to himself.

"Here." He then handed it over to Marius, who for some reason sucked in a deep breath before receiving it.

He only had to stare at it for a few seconds however before his composure betrayed him and he broke into laughter.

Frey wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"This— This is so bad," Marius said between laughs, solidifying some of Frey's not so positive feelings. "I'm sorry, but this— You— You're terrible at drawing."

"Keep your voice down," Frey hissed, trying to get his book back but Marius refused to let go of it. "So I'm not great at art, but I haven't really tried to be either."

"Here." Marius reached a hand out. "Give me that pen thing."

"How promising that you're calling it a pen thing," Frey muttered, but his curiosity forced him to hand it over, and Marius turned the page to start on a new one.

"I think you're focusing too much on the small details," he said while drawing, with a wave of calmness entering his voice. "It's better to do all of it in a simpler way first."

"I was just showing an illiterate man what to buy." Frey folded his arms while staring at Marius' soothing expression. Perhaps drawing was Marius' way of relaxing, like Frey had his horses and his piano. Even the working class had hobbies, he supposed.

"Done." Marius beamed, turning the book so Frey could see, and the latter had to keep his jaw from dropping.

"That's..." He stared at the creation in utter astonishment. "... That's so much worse than mine."

"What?" Marius turned the book again to look at it. "No, that can't be right."

"It's awful," Frey objected, failing to keep a smile off his lips. "It barely qualifies as a horse."

"It's a beautiful horse!"

"It doesn't have a neck!" Frey gestured at the drawing with shaking hands, shocked to find a laugh was building in his throat. "Where's the neck, Marius?"

"The neck is implied by the shadow between the head and the body."

"That's—" Frey had to cover his mouth, words and laughter fighting each other to get out. "That's not how... How necks work."

"Oh, like your neck is so perfect." Marius's eyes were so crinkled from smiling that he failed to roll them. "And look at its legs."

"At least I gave it joints!"

The two of them looked down at the book with the tragic-looking horses again, barrier finally shattering and they both broke into laughter.

"You know what?" Marius said through gasps of air, trying to respect Frey by covering his own mouth. "Screw the real horse, just give her this. Give your niece this drawing."

Frey tried to imagine the looks on his sister's face, ending up stifling another unbecoming snort.

"Only if you paint yours in one of your nieces or nephews' rooms."

"It would be the greatest honour I could bestow upon them."

"Is everything alright down there, Lord Clausson?" the coachman called out, and both Frey and Marius covered their mouths even harder in shock.

Damn it.

Frey was not about to feel embarrassed however. As soon as someone else had entered the conversation, he was back to his collected self and he drained all his emotions before answering.

"Why wouldn't it be? Just mind your own job and keep us on the road."

His hands still clenched without permission, and the urge to rock back and forth in his seat grew as the surroundings fell into silence. He glanced over at Marius, who awkwardly pinched his lips together as an apology. Unfortunately, Frey couldn't even bring himself to be upset at his usual rudeness. Horrifically enough, he'd enjoyed it. He wasn't sure when he'd last been able to genuinely laugh with someone.

It was a bad thing, given the circumstances. As charming and pleasant to be around as he was, a servant was not allowed to make Frey drop his guard like that.

Which made Marius very, very bad news.