Frey wanted nothing more than to fall asleep.

Submerged in the warm bath water with just the top of his chest breaking the surface, he closed his eyes before leaning his head back. New warmth added to the pleasure, and he was more than happy to fall into a daze.

"You're not gonna fall asleep in the bath, are you?" Marius placed a hand under Frey's arm, and the latter cracked open an eyelid in disappointment.

"I'm so tired," he mumbled, still lifting his head from Marius' torso to look at him. "I'm still exhausted from earlier and the warmth from you and the bath aren't helping."

"So that's a no on a second round, then?"

Frey laughed through his nose.

"Even if I had the energy, the water will be cold by the time we're done with that."

"I guess we should get ready, anyway."

Frey uttered a low groan.

"But I'm tired," he complained for a second time, leaning his head back against Marius' chest again. "Can't we sleep for a while first?"

"Not in the bath." Marius wiped wet hair away from Frey's forehead. "And I'm sorry to say we don't have the time."

"Not even a little?"

As if summoned just to go against Frey's wishes, a voice soon called out from downstairs, and they both shot up from their relaxed state.

"The carriage is here already?" Frey was sure he couldn't feel more exhausted than he did at that moment. "They're way too early."

"I got it." Marius got up from the bath before calling out to the new arrival. "Be right down!"

He wiped himself dry and threw his clothes on at an impressive speed, and before Frey could even think about standing up from the warm water, he'd left the room.

Another groan forced its way out of Frey's mouth, but he slowly climbed out of the bath, not without his limbs feeling heavier than ever.

To make matters more inconvenient, he squinted as he picked up his waistcoat to spot a tear next to one of the buttons.

"Marius..." he muttered, recalling the rough treatment his clothes had gotten before they got into the bath.

So instead of putting it on, he folded it over his arm to go downstairs.

"Oh, Lord Clausson." Mr. Harper stood in the entrance hall, giving Frey an apologetic bow upon spotting him. "Terribly sorry to disturb you in the middle of getting ready. I had expected the road to be in worse condition after the rain so we left South Kerilia earlier than usual."

"No harm done in that." Frey shook his head at the coachman while taking a last step down the stairs. "It's reassuring to hear the road is in good condition."

"So, I suggested the footmen and I would wait by the carriage—"

"Of course not." Frey dismissed the suggestion. "We'll put on some tea in the kitchen, so do sit down while we get ready."

Harper chuckled.

"That's what your husband said as well. He's in there right now."

"All good, then." Frey nodded, steering towards the kitchen while Harper went outside to fetch the others.

"Well, you're looking—" Marius interrupted himself as he eyed Frey's attire. "Not entirely dressed."

Frey wrinkled his nose with a mock smile, holding up his waistcoat to show the damage.

"And whose fault is that?"

Marius pursed his lips, but instead of apologising he took a step to the side, placing himself between Frey and the hearth.

Frey rolled his eyes.

"I'm not gonna burn it."

"Really?" Marius raised a sceptical eyebrow, and Frey sighed.

"I'll have it mended."

"Oh, good."

"And then I'll donate it."

Marius snorted, but relaxed enough to stop guarding the hearth.

"That's better, at least."

"I will be needing something else to wear, though."

Marius let out a 'pfft'.

"It's just my friends. They couldn't care less what you wear."

"I still need to stop by The BBT first," Frey reminded him. "Pick up those documents while I'm there."

"And what are they gonna do?" Marius looked appropriately smug. "Insult you? Risk you bankrupting them?"

"I still want to make a good appearance," Frey insisted, not without a similar smirk. "Even if no one else notices, I will still know."

"Well, say hi to Lord Hargreaves for me. Hope he hasn't suffered too much from all the company drama these past months."

"He'll bounce back." Frey shrugged it off. "He's got the time, and besides, he can't stay angry with me for long."

"Just don't be late to Fisherman's." Marius wagged his finger. "Or Oliver will let you hear it."

Frey huffed.

"He just thinks he's gonna drink me under the table again, but it's not gonna happen this time."

"Don't do this to yourself, Frey." Marius had a troubled wrinkle between his eyebrows as he shook his head. "You're a horrible drunk. What if you end up kissing stable boys again?"

"Joke's on you, because I'm not regretting that." Frey bumped his shoulder, and though Marius looked happy enough about it, his eyebrow wrinkle remained.

"But seriously, don't try to outdrink Oliver. He's so used to getting drunk— It's a problem, actually, we're gonna have a talk with him soon."

Frey grimaced, but his pride still wouldn't let him budge.

"I'm sure I can handle it."

"For Sihlea's sake..." Marius tilted his head back, but decided to drop it. "So anyway, you haven't seen my new waistcoat, by any chance?"

Frey narrowed his eyes in thought.

"Didn't you take it off in the other bedroom? So you wouldn't get paint on it."

"Ah, right," Marius recalled while lifting the kettle from the hearth. "Problem solved."

While it wasn't very host-like, Frey did not prefer to be left alone with the Harper and the footmen, so as soon as Marius had poured the tea and let them inside, Frey followed him to fetch the waistcoat.

"Eivind really outdid himself, huh?" Marius had to ask for perhaps a fourth time as they entered the bedroom next to theirs, marveling at the vividly painted landscape on the sun-soaked walls. "And he's what, ten?"

"Eight, I think." Frey shook his head in disbelief as well. "I was thinking, actually, since my family is coming over tomorrow, maybe Ingrid would like to paint something as well."

Marius made a face.

"Do you think Eivind would appreciate a one-year-old painting over this?"

"Well, it's not like he won't appreciate getting to paint things all over again if he wishes, and maybe he could teach her how to paint in the future. Besides..." Frey turned his head to the side. "... Can't be much worse than our contribution."

"What?" Marius exaggerated offense as he followed Frey's gaze to the not-as-impressive depictions of two horses on the larger wall. "No way, I love them!"

"Yours still doesn't have a neck."

"Again, it's implied by the shadow—"

"It is not," Frey said through a laugh as Marius wrapped an arm around him to shake him a little. "Now get your waistcoat already."

"Look who's in a hurry now, all of a sudden." Marius still obeyed, heading over to the old, flimsy yet newly painted single chair by the window where he'd discarded his waistcoat.

"Lord Clausson?" Harper called from downstairs. "Should we carry your bags outside?"

"Yes, thank you," Frey called back, and Marius placed an arm around him again.

"Alright, I guess that is our signal to go." He leaned down to plant a kiss on Frey's cheek. "Say bye to our lovely horses."

Frey laughed softly.

"You really love them that much? Even though they look like that?"

Marius shook his head at him, pretended disappointment ruined by quirked lips of amusement.

"I really do." He booped Frey's nose. "Things don't have to be perfect for me to love them."

Frey smiled as Marius walked out of the room, lifting a hand to place it against his scar where Marius had kissed him earlier.

"I guess not."

THE END