“Would you care to take a walk with me this afternoon?” Azriel asked in an earnest voice. “To the fields beyond the mill?”
Galen’s breath caught. “To search for lavender?”
He nodded. “Madam Langley has given her permission now that our work with the potion is finished.”
“I would be delighted.”
They set off together in the warm sun. Other than the time they’d returned together from the covered bridge, they’d never had the opportunity to be outside of Moon Flower alone. The walk would do them good, while also giving them time to speak freely with each other. It would behoove Galen not to see it as anything more than two companions striking out on an errand, even if his affections for Azriel had steadily grown over the weeks he’d come to know him—and touch him. And now…kiss him.
“Should we stop for lemon tarts?” Azriel asked in front of the bakeshop, and the scent alone would’ve drawn Galen toward the counter. He’d rarely had the freedom to indulge like this, so he savored the confection with Azriel on a bench outside.
“One of the few memories I have of my mother is when she would bake lemon pies,” Azriel said wistfully, and Galen could see the pain hidden beneath the surface. How much he must have missed her after she passed, especially since he’d confessed his father had grown even more aimless and mean-spirited. “I would sit on a stool in the kitchen and watch her.”
“That is a nice memory to have.” Galen wished he had some of his own with his parents. Still, this was another thread connecting them, and despite the somber thought, Galen felt contented just sharing this moment with him. “Tell me more.”
Azriel did, telling Galen how she enjoyed sewing her own clothes, and as they passed a mercer’s shop, they paused to admire the fine wares in the window. Azriel pointed out intriguing patterns, pondering whether his mother would’ve found them too fussy.
“That one is like the waistcoat Mr. Blackburn wears,” Galen said, motioning to one of the fabrics.
“Perhaps this is where he purchased the material for his tailor to use,” Azriel replied. “The rooms he rents might be somewhere close.”
Galen looked around the street as if they’d suddenly see the man, then fell in step with Azriel as they continued their trek out of town.
“Has Mr. Blackburn ever told you more? About his life?”
“He never shared anything of significance.” Azriel lowered his voice, as if someone might overhear. “But, of course, I do wonder.”
“His aura is always a deep, sorrowful blue.” Galen frowned. “Do you suppose he has experienced great tragedy in his life?”
Azriel looked pensive. “Perhaps he once had a great love…or just longs for one.”
Galen let that sentiment sit in his gut until it climbed up his throat and onto his lips. “Do you ever long for one?”
He held his breath as Azriel seemed to gather his thoughts.
“I try not to long for such things.”
“Why is that?”
“So the ache does not grow,” Azriel said quietly.
Galen’s chest throbbed with each subsequent step, and he was so far inside his head that he almost collided with a man dragging a pushcart. “Pardon me.”
They walked in silence for a bit longer, Galen still unable to respond to Azriel’s declaration, until a familiar shop came into view.
“And where are you off to?” Madam Fairborn asked as she opened the door with a flourish upon spotting them through the window.
Galen couldn’t help smiling. “We are on the hunt for lavender.”
“Well, it’s certainly a perfect day for it.” She winked. “Good luck. Enjoy yourselves and don’t hurry back.”
“Sounds like a wonderful idea,” Azriel replied. “But Madam Langley—”
“Will get along without you just fine for a few hours.”
Azriel’s face heated as she smirked and sent them on their way with what Galen thought was a knowing glance. Did she notice his growing regard for Azriel? If so, he hoped she didn’t share her suspicions with Madam Langley.
Once beyond the flour mill, they stopped at the stream to drink cool water from their cupped hands. They sat for a spell, enjoying the sun on their faces and listening to the frogs and birds speaking their own languages. He shivered as he spotted the covered bridge in the distance, the place where he and many others had sought shelter night after night. He’d been too prideful to accept help or admit what he desired all along. And even when his time at Moon Flower came to its inevitable end, he would always be grateful he’d found a place where he fit—not an exact fit, but one that made him feel safe and happy most days. What else could he ask for?
Azriel pointed to a field of wildflowers beginning to bloom, excited as an eager child, his aura changing to a pleasing mix of purples and golds. Galen followed him through the grass but stayed a bit back to watch him at work. To watch the pure joy on his face as he bent to smell the variety of spring flowers.