"These are surprising news indeed." Valdís' eyebrows arched, looking between her son and his newly revealed suitor. "Like Annarósa says, it's strange that you haven't told us until now."

"It's... new." Frey had to focus most of his energy to keep eye contact and breathe calmly through his discomfort. "It's been going on for a while I suppose, but it's newly... Official."

"Well you must introduce us." Valdís smiled warmly. No caution nor scepticism showed, though Frey had no doubt she'd be able to hide it if she felt it.

He groaned on the inside, but figured they had to get it over with.

"Marius, meet my mother, Lady Valdís Magnusdóttir." His hand swept to the side with subpar enthusiasm. "My younger sisters Lady Annarósa and young Lady Sigveig Clausdóttir, and Annarósa's wife, Esther Fredriksdóttir."

He looked down at the sleeping baby in Annarósa's arms.

"And Ingrid."

"Young Lady Ingrid," Annarósa corrected him, gently stroking the girl's cheek. "We're still deciding on whose name she'll take."

"Great, so... This is Marius..." Despite his determination to get through introductions quickly, Frey trailed off earlier than he'd expected, with an awkward realisation that he had no idea what Marius' last name was.

He looked over at the man in question, urging him to continue but Marius did not understand the cue, instead performing an appropriate bow while smiling as though the introduction was over already until Frey cleared his throat.

Marius raised his eyebrows at him, still smiling in obliviousness.

"Hm?"

"I thought you could introduce yourself," Frey half whispered, and Marius' confusion showed through a wrinkle between his eyebrows before he lowered his voice to whisper as well.

"But you already did."

"Yes, well..." Frey gestured vaguely. "... With your last name that I... Seem to have misplaced."

Marius' eyes widened in realisation.

"Oh." He turned to Valdís, who looked at both of them with a thin smile of confusion. "I don't have one. We don't use them where my family is from, originally."

"Ah, you're not from Wypera?" The incorrect assumption dawned on Valdís, and her puzzled look vanished. Marius opened his mouth to deny it however, only to change his mind.

"I'm not," he said instead, pressing his hands against his chest. "I moved to North Kerilia about a year ago... From Zestrei."

"To North Kerilia?" Valdís' intrigue would not let up. "Yet you know Frey?"

"Well, while my extended family here is in the jewellery trade, my expertise back home lies in horses. Naturally, I wanted to continue with my profession here, but there are differences in environment of course and my knowledge of Wyperan horses was limited, so I asked around for people to talk to and the kind Glowells pointed me in Frey's direction." Marius smiled warmly. "And, well... Not being charmed turned out to be impossible."

"And we share a love for fashion as well," Frey joined in. "It took some time for me to get used to Zestrian attire, but I've learned a lot."

"So you moved here a year ago, but you speak Wyperan this well already?" Valdís asked, and Marius nodded with the impressive confidence of someone who wasn't far out of his social depths.

"Everyone in Zestrei speaks at least a little Wyperan."

"How strange," Annarósa remarked, not so much suspicious as genuinely curious. "Wypera and Zestrei aren't too involved with each other, after all."

"Well not anymore, and it would make more sense to you if you picked up a history book once in a while." Frey gave her a judging look, aware enough of his sister's lack of history knowledge to make up a fairly convincing lie. "But it's a sensitive topic so let's not address it now on this otherwise nice evening."

Contrary to Annarósa, who gave up her questioning at that in favour of enjoying her evening, Sigveig's gaze on Frey was relentless and searing, and Frey finally had to give her a glare back. She wouldn't dare. If the secret was to come out eventually, which seemed likely unless he and Marius broke things off, it would not be because of her.

So he needed to distract the others, with Marius' help.

"Marius," he therefore said before pointing with his whole hand at Ingrid, who'd just woken up. "Look, a baby."

It worked better than he'd expected, with Marius instantly catching on, or perhaps more realistically didn't do so at all but was genuinely excited to say hi to the little thing, and while he dazzled Annarósa, Ethel and Valdís with his charm and the attention all relatives wanted for their newborns, Frey pulled Sigveig to the side.

"What are you doing?" she signed before Frey could lift a hand. "I told you to think about who you're seen with, but now you're not even trying?"

"You need to stay out of this," he signed back with the same ferocity, despite their attempts to be stealthy. "If you want to keep them out of this you should not let them form a tiny mob to stalk me."

"I wouldn't have to keep them out if there was nothing going on. You were supposed to rebuild your reputation and keep those South Kerilian blights down, but you're just making things worse."

Frey sucked in a breath, working hard to hold his temper.

"I've been stuck in that position for years. I've sacrificed my youth, my dignity, my own comfort, and I never even began to think about relationships, or families other than the one I was born into." His hands convulsed, making it increasingly harder to sign coherently. "And then Father died. No one listens to me anymore, so am I supposed to throw Marius away because I might restore our reputation there? While you get all comfy over here with people who actually appreciate you?"

It was unusual for Sigveig to hesitate, but as she stared into his eyes in an attempt to figure out his expression, she didn't argue back, so Frey continued.

"I don't know what's going to happen moving forward, but I'm not going to let you— my own family of all people, get in the way of my happiness. I'm trying to have a nice evening with him in public for once, and you are not going to ruin it by telling them."

"Of course I'm not going to tell them." Sigveig looked aghast at the thought. "They have enough to deal with as it is. Last thing Mother needs is her son messing up the one thing she asked him to do."

"Frey, look!"

Frey turned, conversation with Sigveig abruptly ending to watch as a grinning Marius had his hair mercilessly tugged at by Ingrid, who wore an equally cheerful smile on her face.

"You, uh... Need help?" Frey frowned, unsure what he was supposed to do about it. If anything, wasn't it Annarósa or Ethel's job to keep their tiny monster at bay?"

"No, I meant that she likes me." Marius' face showed no sign of being bothered by the curl torture, and he booped Ingrid on her nose. "Look at that smile!"

Their expressions turned out to be contagious, and a faint smile formed on Frey's lips at the absurdity.

"So where are you headed now?" Annarósa asked while helping Marius with freeing his hair. "Perhaps we should accompany you. We could find a nice restaurant, and—"

"Or we could let them continue on with their evening, unbothered by Frey's nosy family." Esther placed an arm around Annarósa, whose mouth fell open with an offended gasp.

"Why wouldn't they want us here?"

"If I'd wanted you here, I would have told you," Frey said. "So listen to your wife and go do... I don't know, something else. Not following us."

Before Annarósa could scold him for his rudeness Frey had already begun walking, gesturing for Marius to come along while just remembering he was holding a baby, consequently having to stop and wait a moment.

"That could have gone a lot worse, right?" Marius asked as he hurried after Frey. "Although I... Really didn't expect you to tell them about us, even if the details aren't entirely true."

Frey was second guessing himself as well. He was determined to make Marius feel welcomed, but the risk of his family finding out still loomed over him and though he hated to acknowledge it, Sigveig's words about him neglecting his duty to help West Kerilia gnawed on him.

He stubbornly suppressed the feeling. That was not what the night was about, and he was not going to bring the mood down. Not again.

"They seem to like you." He conjured his best, charming smile. "At least as far as first impressions go."

"Except perhaps for Sigveig?" Marius asked, knitting his eyebrows while glancing over his shoulder. "I couldn't understand what you were signing, but she did not look thrilled."

Frey scoffed before any truth could show on his face.

"She just didn't find us being together a good enough reason to blend clothing patterns and colours, is all. Especially not on my first night back."

"Ah." Marius fortunately seemed to believe the lie. "I guess that could be upsetting for... Well, people of your class."

"I told her to back off and mind her own business though, so... Don't worry about her."

"But I do want to get along with—"

"And what does she know about fashion anyway?" Frey huffed. "She barely sets foot outside while I know for a fact that I have extensive knowledge, so if she wants to play style queen in front of me she's just embarrassing herself."

Marius chuckled, a little nervously.

"That's alright then."

"And don't get me started on her attire for the night," Frey spiralled, ending up in a rant he hadn't intended to be genuine at first, but eventually turned into a criticism of current shape preferences in dresses, the agricultural influences spreading outside of West Kerilia, and how non-locally grown fruits as clothing patterns were pushing it.

One apparently extensive monologue later, with Marius only uttering an occasional 'ah' or giving understanding nods along the way, Frey abruptly snapped out of it as he spotted their next destination, and while he would have liked to finish defending his strong opinions on yellow-ish green apples, he forced the rant to a stop.

"There's our next place." He pointed towards the steps leading down to a small, cosy shop named Cottontail Burrow, fittingly located below ground with just small windows letting light from the streets inside. Despite its narrow entrance the inside was packed with customers, and Frey stifled a groan. He'd preferred a place with less people, but he would endure for Marius' sake.

To his great surprise, Marius was the one hesitating.

"You sure about this place?" he asked, corner of his mouth twitching as he looked at the hive of activity. "You don't like being touched after all."

Frey was admittedly moved by the gesture, but a nagging feeling suggested that wasn't the whole truth.

"I already prepared myself for running into people this evening. I'll be fine."

"It's just..." Marius searched for words. "... It's not a place you would go to if it hadn't been for me. Maybe you shouldn't be seen in a place like this, you know? For your family's sake."

Frey paled, but he turned his head away, pretending to look back at the shop. Was that it? His mother had said something while he was talking to Sigveig. Had she or Annarósa figured out who Marius was and called him out on it? Had they convinced him to be conscious of their supposedly inconvenient relationship?

Well Frey was not going to have it. He'd allow no obstacle or inconvenience to disturb their night.

"Nonsense." He beamed back at Marius. "I'm the one who chose which places to go to and am well aware of what they all look like."

Marius still had a wrinkle between his eyebrows, but he let Frey's smile rub off on him before following along. As predicted, people turned to look at them while discussing with lowered voices that couldn't possibly be intelligible under the otherwise roaring crowd, but Frey let them. He didn't even give them a look suggesting they should mind their own businesses.

"These seem pretty ordinary," he then said as he inspected the cake racks, low enough so only Marius could hear him. "So how about one with apples and cinnamon, and one with raspberries... And chocolate."

As no reply came he turned around to notice that Marius was standing further away, looking like he didn't know what to do with himself, and definitely hadn't heard what Frey had whispered.

Frey chewed on his lip with a sigh. So they had talked to him, and now he didn't want them to be seen together.

"Why don't you find somewhere to sit while I pay?" He raised his voice to reach through the crowd, with yet another number of them turning to stare. He would not be ashamed, and he wouldn't let Marius be either.

Despite this Marius still hadn't found anywhere to sit when Frey turned around with their cakes in hand, in fact it looked like he'd moved even closer to the door.

"There were no chairs left," Marius excused himself as Frey reached him after suffering multiple jabs from elbows on his way. "No good ones, anyway, but we'll find a place to eat them later."

Frey's gaze wandered over the room. There were more people sitting down than he'd noticed before, so he couldn't object to it, consequently turning around to get something to carry the cakes in instead.

But something was still off. He was sure of it.

"Listen, about my family..." Frey sighed as he handed Marius the bag outside the shop. "... I don't know what they said to you but they're wrong, and I don't care what they think about us anyway, alright?"

Marius shook his head, pretending to have a great interest in the cakes instead.

"They didn't say much about us. They were occupied with talking about Ingrid most of the time."

Frey didn't believe him. He may have had difficulties with cues before, but he knew Marius. He knew when his smile was faked, and since when was Marius reluctant to talk or take up space anyway? Or feel shame for being near him?

"So what's wrong, then?"

"Nothing's wrong." Marius chuckled with another shake of his head. "It just seemed a bit crowded for you so I thought we could eat the cakes somewhere else. Avoid being trodden on."

"But I said it was fine," Frey insisted. "I chose to go there."

Marius shrugged.

"I thought maybe you'd changed your mind when you saw how many people were there but didn't want to say anything." He nodded forward. "Anyway, wanna find someplace to sit down?"

Frey wanted to believe him. It was a sweet sentiment, but he couldn't shake the feeling. No matter how much he pried though Marius kept deflecting it. Was it better to just give up?

He looked down at the box he was still holding from the first shop. No, he couldn't leave things unsaid. It would be another night ruined because of his insufferable situation, and he wouldn't have it, but Marius refused to talk to him.

So he decided to take a page out of Marius' book. He opened the box to pick up what was left of the pineapple cake, wrinkling his nose at the way too sweet creation.

Then he threw it at Marius' head.

It just so happened that Marius had turned slightly, perhaps wondering what Frey's silence was about, and the soft cake hit him right on his cheek with a splat. Only then did Frey consider the differences between throwing bread-like frost wicks compared to soft, creamy cakes.

The look on Marius' face upon realising what had just happened was hard to describe, but if Frey had to compare it to something it was aching to that of a dejected dog.

"Wh—"

"Talk to me." Frey's first intention had been to apologise and explain his miscalculation concerning baked goods, but if Marius could toss things at people without remorse and still insist on talking, so could he. "Your mood changed after we met my family, so they must have said something."

"Frey, I have cake all over my face now."

"But not in your mouth, so talk."

To his relief and not entirely surprise, Marius laughed softly.

"Is it that hard to believe I'm thinking about your wellbeing?" He grimaced while trying to comb cake out of his hair with his fingers. I, of all people, should know by now how you feel about being touched, especially by lower class people."

It was not a cause for laughing, Frey noted as his heart sank. The fact that he used to say those things and act like that would not just go away, even if he changed around Marius. Even if he changed around everyone. It was still there in Marius' head no matter how their relationship evolved.

Marius caught on to Frey's distress, and he pressed his lips together.

"No, I... I didn't mean to say it like that. I was just frustrated, you know? My face is sticky, and my hands, and I fear my hair is doomed unless I find somewhere to wash off."

"But you're right," Frey admitted, unthinkingly taking a step back in case Marius would decide to put his cakey hands in a touch radius of him. "I have expressed myself like that before."

"You've also changed since then."

"But still..." Frey found his eyes staring at the ground. "... Not enough, right? Or you wouldn't try to stay away from that shop for my sake."

Marius glanced back towards the Cottontail Burrow, drawing a breath before releasing it through his nose.

"Alright, it's..." He looked sheepish. "... It's not just that. I might have some difficulties with narrow places too."

Frey raised his eyebrows.

"You do?"

Marius nodded, suddenly looking embarrassed.

"I know it's strange, but... It's uncomfortable, so I thought maybe we could find some other place."

"Well, we could have." Frey tilted his head with exaggerated reproach. "If you'd told me before we went inside."

"Yeah, I... Guess you're right." Marius chuckled. "Would have avoided the cake attack too."

"I'm sorry," Frey relented. "I didn't stop to consider what the impact would be like."

"Guess I had it coming." Marius was too quick, and Frey couldn't back away before a finger covered in pineapple goo booped his nose. "I think you avoided the clothes though, fortunately."

Frey stifled a scream, but refused to wipe it off and get his hands sticky as well.

"Well now we both need to wash off," he still chastised Marius, but the latter looked nothing but smug.

"Just for that?" He moved closer, catching Frey off guard once again by giving his nose a small kiss. "There you go."

"That's not better at all," Frey complained while holding a hand in front of his nose to shield it. "It's not gonna go away like that."

"Worth a shot."

Frey sighed, but looked around for an actual solution.

"There's a restaurant near the town hall," he said. "My family knows the owner so he could probably spare some water."

"The town hall?" The uncertainty in Marius' voice made Frey narrow his eyes.

"Yes, the town hall."

"And you're alright with... Being there?"

"It's being rebuilt," Frey insisted, perhaps most of all to himself. "And I don't have to go that close."

Marius nodded, finally brightening up into his usual self again.

"So... Your family doesn't have a last name?" Frey asked while they walked, having forgotten that conversation before. "Or was it just to avoid telling my mother about it?"

"We don't." Marius shook his head. "Zestrei families don't use them."

"Oh so you are from Zestrei," Frey confirmed with a slow nod. "I couldn't tell how much of what you said was a lie, which is a compliment, I might add."

"Still born here in Wypera. My mother's parents are from Gralia though and they use last names, but she's never really used hers while we grew up."

"I guess we don't make up names quite like Wyperan people do either," Frey admitted. "We just use our parents' names, usually the father's, and add son or dóttir afterwards."

"Nothing wrong with that." Marius shrugged. "People use their jobs as last names, or... Pretty much any words."

"What would your last name be?" Frey arched an eyebrow. "If you were from Hrimrike. What's your father's name?"

Marius stared forward for an unnecessarily long time according to Frey.

"Sorin."

"Marius Sorinson," Frey tried out loud, nodding at the sound. "It's not bad."

"No, but... We don't use last names, so..." Marius added, still without looking at him to Frey's confusion. Was it rude to speculate last names for someone from Zestrei? With the lack of connections regarding trade between the two countries, he had no idea about their culture.

"What do you think Ingrid's name will be?" he therefore continued, steering away from Marius' family for the time being. "Esthersdóttir or Annarósasdóttir?"

Marius sucked air through his teeth.

"No offence to your sister, but it would be a mouthful."

"I also think Esthersdottir rolls off the tongue better," Frey agreed. "Though as much as she loves her wife, my dear sister might cause a scene."

"And you never used a nickname for her or something? For convenience's sake?"

"I'm her brother. Nicknames never pertained to her real name and they were never nice."

Marius let out a snort.

"Sounds about right."

A breath of relief escaped Frey. They seemed to be back on track mood-wise, so he leaned into the nickname territory by discussing the names of the horses they were picking up the next day, and how Marius was not allowed to call Bonfire Dancing Til Dawn 'Bon Bon'. Marius objected to it of course, but the conversation remained lighthearted all the way to their destination.

"Lord Clausson," a man of impressive frame greeted them just a moment after they set foot in the restaurant. "It's been too long."

"I couldn't agree more." Frey beamed, but noticed the subtle glances at the result of their cake mishaps, so he cut to the point. "And we'd love nothing more than to enjoy some late night supper here, but if it's not too much to ask, perhaps you could assist us with some... Washing supplies first?"

"Of course, sir." The man bowed his head. "If you'd follow me."

The place was about as populated as the Cottontail Burrow, but unlike the aforementioned shop it was far less overwhelming with a spacious interior and no shopkeeper shouting instructions to assistants over an already noisy crowd. People were sitting down and speaking in a calm, respectful manner much appreciated by Frey, and just halfway through the main room they were stopped by the person he'd come there to see.

"Mr. Whitaker." He endured a handshake from the tall, slender man dressed head to toe in fashionable blue. "It's so good to see you in good health."

"And you as well, Lord Clausson," Whitaker returned, and to Frey's comfort his friendliness appeared genuine. "Although your new look is... Quite bold."

He gestured at Frey's face, and for a moment Frey grew cold with a wish to place a hand against his scar before Whitaker realised the misunderstanding as well.

"That thing on your nose," he hurriedly clarified, and Frey's tense shoulders relaxed again.

"Yes, I ran into some pineapple cake troubles."

Whitaker pretended to look mortified, though with a hint of amusement on his lips.

"But Lord Clausson, you hate cake."

"I suppose this one's a bad influence on me." Frey nodded at Marius, who mimicked his smile.

"And who is this... 'this one', if I may ask?" Whitaker turned his eyes in Marius' direction, and while Marius embraced the false identity he'd conjured earlier that night by retelling it to the man, Frey glanced around the restaurant. Conscious once again about his scar, he couldn't help but scour just how many were staring at him, and where they were staring. Aside from some people who respectfully seemed to admire his attire, especially of his lower body, most of the others did indeed focus on the side of his face.

He held back a scowl.

"Such a fascinating match," Whitaker ended his introduction to Marius, with Frey uncertain what that meant, but he kept his smile plastered on as they were led to a room next to the kitchen to finally wash off.

"I suppose asking for a brush is pointless here." Frey gestured to Marius' hair while rather effortlessly, compared to Marius, washing the cake from his nose.

"Oh, well... Brushes don't work great on my hair anyway. Don't really feel like soaking it either."

"So untangling it by hand is your best option after all?"

"Pretty much."

"I've... Tried so hard to not ruin things again," Frey said in a low voice while assisting with the sugar removal. "I wanted to make up for last time, but we're already way behind on our cake hunt."

"Of course you're not ruining anything." Marius tenderly lifted Frey's chin, trying to catch his eye. "We got time, even if it's not tonight. Let's enjoy the food in peace and then see where the evening takes us."

Frey sighed, trying to stay optimistic.

"I suppose it's nice to show you places from when I grew up too."

"And this way you know for sure you'll get something you like this evening," Marius reasoned, making Frey tilt his head with a soft look.

"This evening always involved something to my liking."

To his surprise it was Marius who turned his eyes away next, unable to hide a flustered smile.

"That's a relief, then."

With some fumbling and combined efforts to make the best of it, they finally agreed Marius' hair was presentable and cakeless enough to enter the dining hall again.

"So, what are you in the mood for?" Marius asked, looking around for a place to order. "I'm curious to see what West Kerilia has to offer food-wise."

"Mr. Whitaker will see to that." Frey was already in the process of pulling out a chair by a round table near the inner wall. "He knows what I like, and unless there are things you don't eat he'll find something to your liking as well."

"Ah, that fancy, huh." Marius nodded, almost solemnly, before sitting down as well. "But no, I don't really mind any foods that I know of."

Another unthinking glance around the room made Frey aware of more stares in his direction, so he tried to focus back on Marius, who seemed oblivious to all of it.

"You know, I haven't thought about it much before, but..." Frey refused the urge to cover part of his face again. "... You never look at the scar. You've never even brought it up, yet it seems so impossible for others to ignore it."

Marius blinked, apparently taken aback by the question.

"Am I supposed to talk about it?"

"No. No, I just found it unusual." Frey tried to wave his hand nonchalantly, suddenly wishing to rock back and forth in his chair. "But it's... Nice."

"It's not like I don't know it's there, but perhaps it's different for me since it's always been... To me?" Marius shrugged. "I'd never met you before it happened, so this is the you I've always known. There's no other Frey to compare you to, though I'd like to think it wouldn't have mattered anyway."

Frey exhaled softly, warmth blooming in his chest.

"People I've never met before stare as well though, yet you didn't even look the first time you saw me."

Marius raised his eyebrows with a laugh.

"That's not much of a mystery. I was fully occupied looking at the rest of you."

The heat spread to Frey's face, and his eyes were facing the table before he could stop them.

"... I see."

"What about me?" Marius continued, once again raising Frey's chin for their eyes to meet. "What was your first impression? For real?"

"Oh, uh..." Frey wrinkled his forehead in thought. "... I was intrigued, and thought maybe you were one of the businessmen visiting from North Kerilia, but..."

"... But then you realised who I was?"

Frey nodded.

"For what it's worth, the magic kind of wore off for a bit for me as well once you opened your mouth."

A laugh bubbled up in Frey's throat, and he had to clench his fists to keep them still.

"I can't blame you for that, can I?"

"Oh, never."

His smile refusing to go down was bordering on painful, but Frey couldn't stop either.

"So, what about now?" he had to ask. "How am I doing lo— uh, affection-wise now?"

"Lo-affection-wise, I think you're doing great." Marius gave him an amused smirk, eyes crinkling. "Huge improvement."

Frey nodded slowly, tension finally releasing his shoulders as Marius leaned over the table to kiss him.

"That's good, then," he whispered afterwards.