Tuesday Tickle: The Emperor's Favorite

Oops! Between getting ready for storms, dealing with storms, and cleaning up after storms, I completely forgot what day of the week it was. Anyway, this section makes me kind of weepy every time I read it.

Krys swung one side of his cloak around Addan, who curled against Krys’s side like a scrawny kitten—a vast improvement over the wild punches and vicious language of the first couple of months of Krys’s ‘courtship’. They found a sheltered spot in the lee of a small warehouse and settled in to watch bales of southern spices and tuns of wine being unloaded.

“Is it really summer all th’time where those boats’r from?”

“Yes, and warmer.” Krys dug a roll out of his pocket and passed it to Addan. He should have brought cheese, but he hadn’t thought of it. Addan seemed happy enough gnawing on the dry roll, anyway.

“Someday, I’m gonna live someplace where’n it’s always warm. Imma get onna boat and never come back.” This was said in a decided tone, as if there was no doubt about it at all.

“Sure, if you want to. You’d have to learn to sail first.”

“Cain’t be that hard. Siaphal did it in summer.”

“Then you shouldn’t have any trouble with it.”

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the shouts of the men as they offloaded the cargo. Addan wiggled closer under the cloak, bony arms and legs pressed tightly against Krys’s side.

“You cold?”

Addan shrugged. “S’normal. Allus cold.”

Krys wrapped a tentative arm around Addan’s shoulders. “Move closer. Here, where’s the gloves I gave you last week?” He pulled his gloves off and pushed them into Addan’s hand.

“Stoled.”

“Ah.” He tugged his scarf free with his other hand and tried clumsily to wrap it around Addan’s neck. “Suppose that’s where your hat went too?”

Addan shrugged and jammed the last of his roll into his mouth.

Krys sighed and hugged him closer. Tomorrow he was going to talk to his father about having a page.

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