Efren, the previous day
Efren closed the flap on his saddle bag after carefully tucking away his surprise for Marcelo. His brows drew together as he mounted his horse. Mr. Othes’ demeanor had been worrisome.
Perhaps Efren should stop by Mr. Rawlin, the apothecary’s establishment, despite Mr. Othes’ demurral. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. Or perhaps he should mind his own business.
Despite the short length of his own prearranged marriage, he’d come to care very much for his husband. He stifled a soft snort. No. “Care very much” was putting it too mildly. He was head over heels in love, and everyone knew it.
And teased him mercilessly for it.
If he were in Mr. Othes’ position, with Marcelo overdue to return from a journey, he would be distracted, too. And that’s pretty much how Efren would describe Mr. Othes’ behavior. Distracted.
Very, very distracted.
Mr. Othes was usually the model of an attentive and respectful shopkeeper, and he’d rallied to provide service as needed to his early morning customer. Doubtful there was much the apothecary could do for the man short of sedating him so he could no longer run his shop the rest of the day, so yes, Efren should mind his own business. Besides, keeping busy would help to take Mr. Othes’ mind off the temporary delay of his family’s return.
Efren shook his head and prompted the horse to begin the journey home. Home to his own fledgling relationship, which he could only hope would endure the years as well as Mr. Othes’ marriage had.
He squared his shoulders. He would do more than hope. He would make sure Marcelo always knew where he stood in Efren’s heart. He would treat his darling husband like the precious partner in life Efren had dreamed of, and had lost his meager hope of ever acquiring, before chance had changed their apparent destinies.
Efren turned his face to the morning sun and grinned. And perhaps he should also avoid long separations from Marcelo so he never had to endure the torment Mr. Othes was currently suffering.
Fortunately, the annual tour of the realm he was embarking on tomorrow included Marcelo. And Marcelo was looking forward to their travels and to meeting more people and seeing the varied terrain of Zioneven that had been described to him as much as Efren was looking forward to showing him.
A mild breeze ruffled Efren’s hair as his horse carried him home, and he plotted his plans for the coming evening with Marcelo. Warmth spread through him as he imagined the look of joyous surprise on Marcelo’s face when he opened the package of Mr. Tolly’s Nutter Buzzers.
Efren sat straight and tall as he slowed his horse on the stretch of road adjacent to the practice grounds. He scanned the scattered groupings of men in hopes of catching a glimpse of a certain strawberry blond head.
A thrill he couldn’t have suppressed even if he’d wanted to coursed through him when he caught sight of a long queue of just that shade of hair trailing behind a lean body as the owner of those features pumped his legs, mid-sprint across the field.
More determination than pure power fueled Marcelo’s progress, but his strength grew daily. Still, raw muscle-fueled power would never be his strong suit, although he needed to gain as much as his build would allow.
Speed and agility were his forte, and it showed. Even with no formal training prior to his journey to Zioneven, Marcelo was near the front of the pack of runners. Not the first…yet, but closing in on that goal.
Efren returned his gaze toward the castle. Soon enough, he was rapidly pacing through the passageways toward the kitchens to inquire as to Jeffery’s whereabouts.