Chapter 65: The Date

Two days Until Raid

The morning was warm.

Emeric woke before Isolde. He lay still for a moment, watching her sleep. The light through the curtains painted her face in shades of gold. Her hair was a dark tangle across the pillow. Her lips were slightly parted. She looked peaceful in a way she rarely did when awake.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and slipped out of bed.

He spent the morning preparing.

He wanted to spend the day with her.

He cleaned the house. He arranged for Tatia to come later than usual. He found a small tea house in the merchant district—one that would suit the relaxing day he was planning to have. He asked if they could accommodate a chair. The owner, a kind woman with laugh lines around her eyes, said yes.

He went to the market.

He bought flowers. Nothing too extravagant. He knew she wouldn’t like that. These were white and gold. He had no idea what they meant. He just thought they were pretty.

Then he went home.

Isolde was awake when he returned.

She was in her chair by the window, a book open in her lap. She looked up when he entered. Her eyes found the flowers first. Then him.

"What are those?"

"Flowers."

"I can see that." She tilted her head. "Why?"

"Because I’m taking you out today."

She blinked.

"Out?"

"Yes. We’re going to a tea house. And then the market. And then anywhere else you want to go."

She stared at him.

"You’re serious."

"Completely."

She looked at the flowers. Then at him. Something softened in her expression.

"You don’t have to do this."

"I know." He crossed to her. Knelt in front of her chair. "I want to."

She held his gaze for a long moment. Then she reached out and took the flowers.

"They’re beautiful."

"You’re beautiful."

She felt her cheeks warm.

"Don’t."

"Don’t what?"

"Be charming. It’s unfair."

He smiled. Small. Real.

"I’ll try to be less charming."

"You won’t."

"I won’t."

She laughed, dragging him to hersel .

He helped her get ready.

The tea house was quiet.

A small establishment tucked between a bookseller and a tailor. The windows were wide and the lighting was soft. The owner greeted them warmly and led them to a table by the window.

Emeric pushed Isolde’s chair. He positioned her so she could see the street. Then he sat across from her.

A waitress appeared.

She was young, pretty with messy red hair. Her uniform was crisp. Her smile was professional.

Then she saw Emeric.

Her smile widened. Her eyes traveled over him—his shoulders, his face, the way he sat. She leaned in when she poured his tea. Her hand brushed his shoulder when she asked if he needed anything else.

"Anything at all," she said.

Isolde watched, and she was not jealous.

She was amused.

The waitress lingered, her smile becoming more and more obvious as she tried to get his attention..

Emeric kept his eyes on the tea.

"Thank you," he said. "That will be all."

The waitress hesitated. Then she straightened. Her smile faltered. She glanced at Isolde. Then back at Emeric.

"Of course. Let me know if you need anything."

She walked away.

Isolde took a sip of her tea.

"You have an admirer," she said.

"I noticed."

"She’s pretty."

"She is not you."

Isolde set her cup down and looked at him.

"You are learning."

"I had a good teacher."

She smiled.

They talked for an hour.

About nothing and everything. About the small things that made up a life.

They needed to do this more.

For the first time in weeks, they were just a husband and wife.

---

After the tea house, they walked.

Emeric pushed her chair through the market. The streets were crowded—merchants hawking their wares, children running between stalls, the smell of fresh bread and roasted meat.

Isolde’s eyes moved over the stalls. Taking everything in.

She stopped.

"Em. Look."

He followed her gaze.

A small stall tucked between a fabric seller and a spice merchant. An old woman sat behind it, her hands busy with a carving knife. Wood shavings curled at her feet. On the table before her, dozens of small carved animals. Birds. Foxes. Rabbits. All delicately made. All beautiful.

Isolde pointed at one.

A bird. A small brown wood with painted wings.

"I had one of these as a child," she said.

Emeric pushed her closer. The old woman looked up and smiled.

"See something you like, dear?"

"That one." Isolde pointed. "The bird."

The woman picked it up and handed it to her.

Isolde turned it over in her hands. Her fingers traced the wings. The beak. The tiny painted eyes.

"I lost mine," she said quietly. "When I went to train. I never found it again."

Emeric watched her.

"How much?" he asked.

"Three silver."

He paid and the woman acknowledged before going back to her carving.

Isolde held the bird and stared at it much longer than necessary.

"Thank you," she said.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Anything for you."

They walked further.

Isolde stopped again. This time at a stall selling scarves. Silk. Wool. Every color imaginable. She reached out and touched a deep blue one. It reminded her of stormy clouds.

"That one," she said.

Emeric bought it.

She wrapped it around her neck and looked up at him.

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful."

She rolled her eyes. But she smiled.

They walked further.

There was a stall selling neck pieces of all kinds. Isolde picked one, turning it over. It was a silver necklace. A small pendant shaped like a crescent moon.

She didn’t say anything. She just looked at it.

Emeric bought it.

He clasped it around her neck. His fingers brushing her skin. She shivered.

"Now I’m definitely spoiled," she said.

"That’s the point."

She laughed.

---

The sun began to set.

They found a bench near the fountain in the center of the market. Emeric sat beside her. Isolde leaned her head against his shoulder.

The market was beginning to empty. The lamps were lit. The sky was red and gold.

"This was a good day," she said quietly.

"It was."

"I needed this."

"I know."

She was quiet for a moment.

"Em."

"Yes."

"Thank you. For today. For everything."

He turned his head and kissed her hair.

"You don’t have to thank me."

"I know." She closed her eyes. "But I wanted to."

They sat like that as the stars came out.