Page 51 of A Winter Courtship

Ethel bumped into his side. Ulrich reached out and held one of her antlers, finger stroking the soft velvet, trying to soak up as much comfort as his broken heart could.

“I wonder if I’ll ever see Lutoth again,” Ulrich said.

“I can promise you’ll see him at least once more.”

Ulrich jerked. He tried to turn, but his feet slipped in the powdery snow. Releasing Ethel’s antler, he tumbled backwards, landing heavily.

He looked up, and his heart sang at the sight of Lutoth standing above him.

“You came back,” he said in awe.

Lutoth huffed. “Why does everyone act like it’s amazing I came back? I’m not my mother!”

“I know.” Ulrich fought and kicked against the snow, stumbling to his feet. “I know you’re not. I should have never said that. I know you aren’t her, but after how I behaved, you had every right not to return.”

“That’s true,” Lutoth said. Then he let out an exhausted sigh. Bags hung beneath his eyes. Had Lutoth’s night been as sleepless as Ulrich’s?

Ethel honked excitedly, pressing her body against Lutoth’s, jostling him. Lutoth’s expression softened, and he smiled at her. He stroked her fur. “I missed you too, Ethel.”

The sight of Lutoth’s smile made Ulrich’s blood thrum with yearning. Ulrich would give anything to have Lutoth look at him like that. To smile at him. Just once more.

But when Lutoth turned his gaze back to Ulrich, his expression turned to ice. “Father said you wanted to apologise.”

Right, that was why Lutoth had returned. Not because he wanted Ulrich. Or forgave him. He wanted an apology.

“I needed to tell you how sorry I am,” Ulrich said. “For everything. For pulling away. For saying you were a friend. For making you feel like I’m ashamed of you, because I’m not. I’ve always been too weak to stand up to my father.”

The words had been going round and round Ulrich’s head since the moment Lutoth had left. Now they tripped clumsily from his tongue. But at least he had a chance to say the words he needed to. “And that stuff about you flying away, I just panicked. I knew I’d wronged you, and I didn’t want you to leave me.”

Lutoth wrapped his arms around himself. “You hurt me,” Lutoth said, voice small.

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Ulrich stared at Lutoth, trying to memorise every lovely feature of the nymph’s face. “I told Father about you at dinner tonight.”

“You did?” Lutoth asked. “What did you say?”

“I told him how wonderful you are. How you are my lover and how I want to build a life with you. I told him I hurt you and lost you because I was a coward.” Ulrich gazed into Lutoth’s eyes, trying to read him, but Lutoth gave nothing away.

“It was terrifying telling my father,” Ulrich said. “He is always so disapproving of me. He’s not a nice man. I don’t think he likes anyone. But it felt good to finally stand up to him. I wanted him to know the truth about us. Even if I’ve ruined everything. Even if I lost my chance with you.”

Lutoth studied Ulrich’s face, arms still tightly wrapped around his body as if holding himself together.

“And I have something for you.” Ulrich fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a pendant hanging from a thin leather strap. He held the necklace out to Lutoth. He held his breath, worried Lutoth wouldn’t accept the gift.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lutoth reached out his hand. Ulrich dropped it onto his palm.

“It’s a necklace,” Ulrich said. “Sorry. It’s a little rustic.”

Now that he stared at it, he felt it was a pretty pitiful gift.

Not good enough for Lutoth. Just like Ulrich.

“This sort of dainty thing isn’t what I usually make,” Ulrich said. “It’s a leaf.”

“I can see that.” Lutoth held the necklace up in front of his face. The pendant spun. It hung from a thin black leather strap. “You made this for me?”

Ulrich nodded. His heart fluttered like a panicked bird in his chest banging against his rib cage. He could see all the imperfections in the wrought iron. How did he think this would make up for his failings?

“What else is in your pocket?” Lutoth asked.