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Something is wrong with Nathaniel.
The thought circled around Elisabeth’s head as they sat for lunch. Nothing seemed wrong with him this morning, when they came down in their dressing gowns to the breakfast cooked by Mercy. The demon had some business to attend to and had been gone the night previous and wouldn’t be back until dinner. Elisabeth had wanted to ask why, but she hadn’t the opportunity. She’d just caught him muttering something to himself about “quality fabrics” and “the state of fashion these days,” and decided to just let him go.
None of that helped her in figuring out what was wrong with Nathaniel. She was able to rule out a couple of options; there were no coughs, sneezes, or complaints of a headache, his leg didn’t seem to be flaring up in pain. All signs pointed to him being perfectly fine, but there was something off…
As if he could read her mind, he looked up from his food and quirked an eyebrow.
“Am I going to discover the reason you’ve been staring at me like a hawk all morning, or will I have to find out after my meeting?”
She felt her face flush upon being caught, but decided to lay it all out.
“There’s something… off about you today and I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Well, if you should figure it out, let me know,” he said, standing up and adjusting his cravat. “You know I would lose my head if it weren’t for you and Silas.”
He made his way to her side, leaning down to peck her on the cheek. It was at that moment, she had her revelation and stood up with such ferocity, their heads slammed together.
“You’re wearing! – ow, gods!”
Nathaniel shot back, clutching his nose. “Stars above, Scrivener!”
Things didn’t settle down until Nathaniel was sat down, a handkerchief full of ice pressed to his nose, two cups of tea provided by Mercy once she was assured no one had been murdered. His nose wasn’t broken, but it was tender. Adrenaline still pumped through Elisabeth’s body, so she paced round the kitchen, his eyes following her.
“If I didn’t feel I was owed an answer now, you terror,” he said, cloth fluttering with his breath. “I now have to hear your diagnosis.”
She waited until her heartrate had calmed down start again. “You’re wearing a cravat! That’s tied!”
She could only make out his eyes, but they looked pinched despite his easy tone. “You’ve faced down enchanted topiaries, but a cravat is what does me in?”
“No, it’s tied. Neatly. And unless Silas snuck back in or can pre-tie cravats, that means you are perfectly capable of tying it yourself!”
At that Nathaniel… sagged into his chair, tossing the handkerchief onto the table, the ice spilling out. Some light bruising had already started coloring his face.
He sighed. “I didn’t think it would be that obvious, but yes, I can tie my own cravat. I only know the one knot, but there you have it.”
“Why?”
She knew her outrage, if she could call it that, was unfounded, but she was confused more than anything. Before Nathaniel left the manor, Silas was always at his heels, tying his cravat with sure fingers. She couldn’t understand why Nathaniel wouldn’t just dress himself if that was the case.
“It was…” he chuckled. “The weirdest act of teenage rebellion, I suppose. I was about sixteen and I felt smothered by, everything really. I wanted to be more independent and not have to rely on… anyone.”
Silas, she could tell he meant Silas.
She slowed her pace, pausing by his side.
He continued, “So I’d sit in front of my mirror and practice. Like I said, it’s just the one knot, but I got there.” He cast his eyes to the floor. “But, by then I’d had a change of heart.
“Well really, I panicked at a party and I couldn’t breathe. Silas was there and he loosened my tie for me. When I’d come back to myself and decided to head back into the crowd, he fixed it. And there I had this moment of clarity that I trusted Silas with everything, that his hands that close weren’t smothering me, he was protecting me in the only he knew was acceptable. So, I never learned another knot.”
Elisabeth crouched at his knees, her hands there to comfort and steady herself. Not for the first time, her heart ached for Nathanial, but she was happy Silas had been there for him. And now they were all there for each other.
“Does he know?” she asked lightly.
“Well, I never told him, so he probably does know, somehow.”
They both chuckled.
“So, is that your curiosity sated as well as your bloodlust for the day?”
She nudged his good leg. “It’s not even broken.”
“No, which is going to make explaining to Silas what happened to my face when he gets back even more difficult. Thieves wouldn’t be so inexperienced to not try to hit with enough force to at least break my nose, and I can’t think of an enchantment that would cause this.”
“Blowback from an experiment?”
“That ends in bruising, not lacerations? Perhaps…”
“Well, you can think of that as you get ready for the meeting,” Elisabeth said, rising from her spot on the floor and offered her hand.
He groaned but took the hand, rising with little assistance despite his dramatics. “A wound such as this doesn’t get me out of talking with those dullards?”
“Afraid not,” she said, as they started for the foyer, his cane clicking beside him.
“Oh, but look at my coat! It’s soaked!” he said, holding up a damp sleeve. “Clearly, the meeting needs to be put on hold, so I may fetch a new one.”
“You can magic the water away.”
His hand stopped her in her tracks. He spun her around, a coy smile on his lips.
“I could also blanket the whole city in rain, cause a little street flooding, get the meeting canceled,” he said, as his free hand wound itself around her back.
Her hands found their way to his back. “You’d knock yourself out for the rest of the day, and that’s not half as fun for me.”
“Tssk, always poking holes in my plans.” He leaned up and kissed her cheek, before they both moved for a slower kiss.
When they finally pull away, there’s the faint smell of magic in the air, and Elisabeth can’t feel the wet cuff on her back anymore.
“I’ll be back by dinner, if I can teach those magicians how to listen to one another.”
“I have tea with Katrien, so I’ll be out if you want back-up.”
He smiled and kissed her again. “Ready to headbutt in my honor this time, hmm?”
She felt her face heat up. “I’m not going to ever live that down, am I?”
He kissed her cheek. “Absolutely not, Scrivener.”