Frey was drenched in sweat. He sat up in his bed with a gasp at the sound of knocking on his door and tried to focus his gaze. He'd fallen asleep with his clothes on. That would explain the sweating at least, he thought as he lay down again. After everything that had happened yesterday he sure didn't feel like answering the door, and he rolled over to face the wall instead.

Another knock, and Frey groaned.

"Go away, Hauke. You know I don't want breakfast."

"It's a bit late for breakfast anyway," Damien's voice said from the other side of the door, and Frey rolled his eyes.

"What do you want?" He knew he could have sounded nicer. Damien was one of few people Frey didn't yell at on a daily basis, but given recent events some hissing was to be expected.

"Your new clothes were just delivered. " Damien closed the door behind him as he entered Frey's room. "Thought you'd want to know."

"Good." Frey turned around to face Damien. "You're having Lucius pay for it I hope?"

"I figured I could do it, since Luna didn't mean to soak your clothes in blood and Lucius had no part in it either."

Frey rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling.

"I'm never letting anyone borrow my clothes again."

"I didn't assume that'd be a recurring thing anyway." Damien sat down on the bed and eyed Frey, much to the latter's annoyance.

"... Was there something else?"

"You disappeared yesterday. I couldn't find you anywhere."

Frey's shoulders tensed, and he looked up at the ceiling again. He'd rather be stomped on by a horse than admitting what had happened between Marius and him yesterday.

"The event bored me." He turned his head away, sweat still prickling his skin and his mouth had gone dry. "I had better things to do, so I called it a night."

Damien didn't reply at first, but Frey refused to look back at him in case his face would reveal something. He was a good actor, but Damien had known him for too many years to be completely fooled.

"So it wasn't about the whispering then?" Damien asked, and Frey's eye twitched. "I know you've heard them before, and last night was probably not an exception."

Frey closed his eyes and discreetly dug his fingers into the sheet.

"So? I'm used to it by now."

"Are you, though?"

He turned back to glare at Damien.

"It's been a year. Why would I—"

"A year isn't a lot," Damien interrupted. "Even for someone mortal. It's always fine to need more time when grieving."

Frey averted his gaze as Damien continued.

"You've always excelled at pretending, Frey, but having to put on a brave face while people are talking behind your back, as well as still processing your loss is a lot, and not even you are immune to the emotional toll. Especially since... You know, moving past how it all went down might prove even harder than other cases of grief."

"You mean watching my father be torn in half by a nightmare blight? Having his blood spatter all over me? Knowing our last conversation was the worst terms we'd ever been on?"

A moment of silence ensued, and Frey grimaced as he waited for Damien to speak again.

"... Yes."

Frey bit his lip and fought back those annoying tears. They'd really overstayed their welcome. He'd already had this talk with Marius. That very encounter was what had made him upset initially, but now Damien was clawing up that previous wound? Frey didn't need all that. Couldn't he just focus on one heartbreaking problem at a time?

He frowned. Was the Marius incident heartbreaking? Was it really that bad? No, it couldn't be. Frey had just made a mistake in the heat of the moment. He knew there was no way they could be together even if Marius hadn't pushed him away.

Heat rose in his cheeks. Them being together? His mind sure liked rushing to very extreme conclusions lately. There was no such thing as a future between the two of them.

So why did it feel like his chest was slowly being crushed underneath an anvil?

"... Damien?"

Damien arched his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

"Have you really never been able to love someone since Eleanor passed away?"

It was suddenly Damien's turn to avert his gaze.

"Why this sudden topic change?"

"Have you?"

"I... Don't know. I wouldn't allow myself to even consider moving on for so many years. Even now I can't just... Forget about her, but..."

He trailed off and Frey sighed, licking his lips to be rid of the dryness.

"So nothing recently?"

"Really, where is this coming from?" Damien replied a little too quickly.

"Well I've... Been thinking." Frey arched an eyebrow at Damien's sudden change in tone. "I guess I've never really cared much about those things."

Damien tilted his head with a hint of a curious smile.

"And... You've started to?"

Frey shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe?" His eyes twitched before he continued, heart feeling heavy again. "But I wonder if there's any point. I've never... Gotten that close to someone. I never let that happen. I don't even have friends, so what can I expect?" He let a trembling and tragically telling laugh escape his lips. "Certainly not love."

Damien blinked.

"You're still thinking this even now when you're sober? I thought you were just being an emotional drunk that time at the tavern."

"But you know I'm right." Frey sat up from his bed, grimacing as he wiped sweat off his neck. "The only people who've ever shown interest in me are those perverted creeps I have to tease for information.

The wrinkle in Damien's forehead bothered him, and he faked a nonchalant scoff.

"I know you know about it. Don't act all confused."

"It's not confusion, I'm just... Not comfortable thinking about it." Damien's lip curled. "And that certainly isn't love anyway."

"Yes, well... I probably won't be doing it anymore, so that should be a relief."

There was a brief silence as Damien's frown deepened, and then he drew a breath.

"Lord Carrigan talked to me yesterday," he then said, and Frey refused to move a muscle in his face at the mention. "Said he's worried about your situation, and that I should encourage you to work instead of just spoiling you."

"Did he, now?"

Frey should have known. If Carrigan really wanted him to come crawling back he had to cut off his assets, eventually leaving him with no choice.

"Something happened, I assume?" Damien stared him down. "He's not the person I'd expect to be concerned."

"Well, he's not wrong, is he?" Frey tried shrugging it off, refusing to look away no matter how much he wanted to. "I haven't been working a lot this year and you have still spent a lot of money on me."

"You've had a year of mourning. That doesn't mean I can't cover your necessities."

"Tragic as it may be, I don't think Everleigh's designs count as a necessity."

"It's important to you though, so isn't it?" Damien tried with a weak smile. "And I do expect you to get back to work eventually. A little spoiling never stopped you from that."

Frey attempted an appreciative smile back, but his acting seemed to fail him.

"On the topic of spoiled, it's been a while since you saw your family," Damien continued, somewhat carefully. "You haven't even met your niece yet, have you?"

"I'll meet her eventually." Frey scrunched up his nose. "I'm in no hurry."

"I was wondering if you would perhaps go back soon, because we're investing in new horses from West Kerilia and I thought we could make use of your expertise." Damien shrugged. "You might as well visit your family while you're there."

Frey considered it. He did like buying horses, and he feared Annarósa wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he didn't greet that baby of hers soon.

"Well, my birthday is coming up," he mumbled, staring at the ceiling. "Guess I could spend it with them."

"And you're sure you don't want a bigger celebration?" Damien frowned. "I know you said you don't, but you've always loved celebrations. Especially when they're about you."

"It being about me is exactly the reason why I don't want it." Frey clenched his jaw. "Not right now."

"You only turn thirty once, though."

"That goes for all ages."

Damien stared at him in silence at first, but eventually sighed.

"Spending it with just your family isn't a bad idea, I suppose." Then his frown deepened. "Are you... Sure you'll be fine though? Going back?"

"... I've been back before, after that happened." Frey grimaced, trying not to think about it too much. "It's not like I'm too emotional to go back or anything."

"That's good." Damien found his smile again. "I'll send a notice to the West Kerilia stable, and your family as well. Shall we say on your birthday then?"

"Sure."

Damien nodded before standing up.

"And now that that's decided, I think it's time you came down for some tea at least. A late breakfast encouraged, but not required.

"Tell the servants to prepare a bath too." Frey irately wrapped his arms around himself as chills went through his body. All the sweat had gone cold and he really wanted to get out of his current attire.

***

His hair was still damp as he entered the sitting room, spotting the tray of tea and small sandwiches with a secret, delighted breath. Despite his reluctance to eat breakfast due to its earliness, he was starving.

He hadn't eaten much yesterday after all. He'd had his wine on an empty stomach and couldn't focus on anything but the safety of his room after all those horrid events.

His eyes narrowed as he noticed the asymmetry on the tray. The sandwiches looked like they had been placed in a neat pattern but one was missing, and had the milk jug for the tea been used already?

He got his answer as he turned to sit down, and stifled a gasp while trying to not spill his tea at the presence he'd failed to notice before.

"Frey," Noah Hargreaves said, voice as gloomy as his eyes, but at least he had a weak smile on his lips.

Frey sighed through his nose but sat down. He was not in the mood, but no matter how strange it seemed, Noah held an important position and Frey could not afford to be that rude.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you before."

Of course he hadn't. Unlike his rowdy twin sister, Noah had gone the opposite direction and didn't take up much space at all. That along with his gloomy, yet well meaning personality was not too promising for a future town chief.

"I didn't want to startle you, but it seems I did anyway." Noah took a sip of his tea. "You never looked directly at me though, so you wouldn't have expected someone to say something."

Frey didn't comment on how he should have alerted him of his presence as soon as he'd entered the room, but stayed quiet. Even if he had been in the mood for snark, he had to be nice. Instead he stopped to smell the tea he'd just poured himself.

Cinnamon, he concluded, not too surprised. It was one of Noah's favourites. Perhaps due to his face seemingly being sifted with cinnamon as well, in the form of a good amount of freckles.

"Are you here to study?" he asked. "It's been a while since I saw you here."

Noah shook his head, leaning back in his armchair.

"My clothes were delivered here, along with yours I believe, so I came to pick them up personally since I hadn't seen Damien in a while either."

"Oh, how nice." Frey nodded slowly, stifling a wrinkle of his nose. Upper class as he may be, he couldn't help but wonder if Everleigh's designs weren't wasted on a boy who'd sooner be swallowed by shadows than stand out in a crowd. "A good day for both of us, then."

"I... Apologise for Luna's treatment of your clothes." Noah grimaced, still looking down at his cup. "She was reckless again, but... For what it's worth, she didn't have much of a choice."

Frey doubted it. Whatever the situation, drenching someone's clothes in blood seemed unnecessary.

"All in the past," he still replied, but paused to think. "Did you by any chance give your clothes a blood bath as well, since you also got new clothes?"

Noah shook his head again.

"Just keeping up with trends," he said with a low voice, and Frey found it laughable. There was no way Noah cared about that. It had to be the work of his father.

"I wasn't aware you care about those things." He even allowed an amused smile onto his lips. "You're not much of a social butterfly after all."

Noah's already gloomy expression darkened, and he lowered his cup while still staring at nothing.

"I still care," he said, voice even weaker than before. "I like nice clothes, and... It's not like I don't want to socialise with others."

Frey masked a tired look. Not that again. Could they go five minutes without entering the topic of either of the Hargreaves twins' dreadful oddities?

"I'm certain you're aware of the solution to that, though."

Noah curled his lip, but didn't object to it. Everyone who knew about Noah knew about his claims that he could see and speak to ghosts. It had seemed endearing to adults when he was a child, but as he grew older and still kept insisting on it, it did not work in his favour as far as society was concerned.

Frey had scoffed at it, though in silence, as well. He'd attributed it to the boy's desperate and misguided need for attention, but after what happened to his father, he'd caught himself wondering if there was some truth to it after all.

Which still seemed unreasonable, and so Frey chose to disregard it.

"Are you... All right?" Noah asked, and Frey raised an eyebrow at him.

"What gives you the impression that I'm not?"

"Well..." Noah shrugged, still avoiding eye contact and while Frey preferred to do so as well when able to, it was not becoming for a young lord. "... Damien mentioned that you left the party early yesterday, and he thought something was off."

"I've left parties early quite often this past year, and occasionally even before that." Frey wouldn't show anything. No negative emotions were allowed to slip through. "Damien's just worried for nothing."

Noah's expression was hard to read, which was unwelcome news to Frey.

"... Lord Carrigan seems to be worried as well."

Frey's shoulders tensed without permission, and he rolled his eyes.

"So I guess you were there when he spoke to Damien about me, then."

"No." Noah awkwardly looked out the window. "He talked to me as well."

Frey's eyes narrowed, discomfort growing in his supposedly uncaring mind.

"Alone?"

"No, not really." Noah shrugged. "I mean, it was just the two of us talking, but we were around people."

"Interesting." Frey's voice was still void of emotion, but his frustration kept growing. "I can't remember the two of you talking before."

"He was just asking how I was doing mostly, and about my studies." Noah still had a wrinkle between his eyebrows. "He only brought you up because we started talking about the trade, and how things had gotten more... Difficult with you, I think he said. So he was worried."

"I see." Frey wanted to punch something. "He didn't by any chance talk about your future involvement in the trade?"

"I guess, a little?" Noah scratched his unruly, reddish hair. "But I told him I need to focus on knowing the first thing about running a town before all that."

Frey nodded, but couldn't let the uneasiness go.

"Noah, I hope you're aware of your own age."

Noah blinked, perhaps looking a little offended.

"Why? Because I haven't learned things as quickly as you did?"

It wasn't a surprising response, Frey supposed.

"No, but I think you should keep the difference between your age and others' ages in mind when you deal with them."

Noah's frown deepened.

"For... Business reasons?"

"... Sure."