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Following Lune’s lead, he climbed in, fully clothed. Or at least as fully clothed as the robe, gloves, and socks Lune provided him. He started braiding his hair lest the strands fling over the board and onto Lune’s face if he tossed and turned.

“This is just for tonight, you understand.” Lune snuffed out the bedside lamp. “You’ll leave in the morning and find other accommodations.”

“We’ll likely just head back,” Narsus found himself answering. Then, after a few minutes. “I apologize, again. I didn’t know this was your home.”

There was a harrumph. “Meaning you wouldn’t have come if you’d known?”

He’d walked right into that one. Narsus thought the question semi-hostile and reined in his own barbed response. It wasn’t either of their fault for being Compass-born. “Meaning that I would have asked before we entered.” There, that sounded neutral enough.

“So you were coming to find me after all? ”

There was a shred of hope in response. Narsus wanted to kick himself. He was just digging himself in deeper. He wouldn’t voice it, but no. He wouldn’t have come. At the time, he would have just ignored and tried to forget.

What could he say without being too hurtful? “Meaning that I didn’t know you were Calico’s fosterling, or that this was your home.”

“Oh.”

Narsus felt Lune’s crestfallen disappointment in his gut. The guilt was creeping further along. Why couldn’t they just go to sleep? Wasn’t Lune exhausted?

“Do you intend to submit a divorce?”

Did Lune even know what he was asking? The idea of a divorce hadn’t even crossed Narsus’s mind, given that earlier he hadn’t even cared about the marriage itself. Because the embedded gems counting down would take care of that if the compasses weren’t tapped together.

And after the compasses were clicked together, there was no such thing as a divorce. Despite any rare magical glitches, the matches were too precise, and to cleave the two from the bond-magic itself meant emotional trauma for the rest of their days.

“No,” Narsus said immediately. “No divorce.” And surprised himself that he’d meant it. But also feeling a bit guilty at the unspoken truth.

His stomach still tumbled in knots. He also wanted nothing more than to stay here. With Lune. He also wanted to escape this frightening unfamiliarity. Dive back into the old comfort of misery and grief.

He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, so he searched for another avenue of conversation. He marveled at the light of the cloud-studded starscape coming through the large, round window. “The night sky,” he whispered into the awkward silence. “Incredible. ”

“Surely you’ve seen stars before.” Lune’s tone was half amusement and half disbelief.

“Of course. But I was hoping to deter the direction of our chat.”

Did Narsus imagine that quiet snort? Did Lune find him amusing? Narsus didn’t know how that made him feel.

Obviously his ploy worked, for he heard Lune settle down into sleep.

Relieved at the growing silence, Narsus wondered if he’d been too callous and abrupt. Too honest. It was an awkward gap that left him alone with his thoughts.

Lune wasn’t ready to drift off to sleep. He wondered if it was the serene and rhythmic rush of the waves outside that encouraged Narsus to express his feelings. He wasn’t about to press, though.

He could sense Narsus was wide awake, watching the sky with him in quiet companionship.

As the clouds grew thicker and the stars faded, the sky lit up with another round of rain and lightning.

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, Narsus’s soft rustling alerted him.

Narsus had turned over, facing the bundling board.

Lune half-opened his eyes to find Narsus watching him. Slowly, the phoenix reached out and placed an open palm against his side of the bundling board, gloved fingertips just cresting over the edge. After a moment, Lune turned to face him.

In the shadowed darkness, Narsus’s green eyes glittered.

Lune wasn’t sure if it was from silent tears or not, and he wouldn’t break the candid, reflective mood to ask.

Narsus was showing himself willing to try, and Lune was glad.

Because he wanted desperately to try, too.

Careful not to touch the spread gloved fingers seen just above the wood, he placed his hand just adjacent to it, on his side.

“Lune?”

He was almost afraid to answer. Because this could be a dream. “Yes?”

“I’m—still unsure about all this. I’ve been mulling over the coincidences of the ways we’ve been brought together. Given I’ve said that, would you be receptive to me acknowledging our fated match? Of wanting to see if we can work with this Compass-partnership gifted to us? I’m—willing to try.”

“And to see if there could be something in addition to that?” Lune had to moisten his lips and breathe against the pounding of his heart. The seconds were ticking by. Then a minute.

“I’ve come to our bed,” Narsus said slowly. “You’re kind, and so generous. More forgiving than anyone I’ve met. And, I am attracted to you.”

Lune held his breath. This could work out after all. His dreams and desire for love, a family of his own, were within his grasp.

Fingers pressing harder into the bundling board, Lune replied, “I would welcome you, Narsus of the Verdigris. And I accept you as more than a Compass-mate—if that’s something you’d like to explore.”