“I’ll tell you anything,” Friedrich said wretchedly, certain that whatever Nathan was about to ask would be the end of him.

  “When we’re not in your room,” Nathan said. His eyes opened and he looked at Friedrich’s face beseechingly, still very close to him. “When I’m not paying you for your time. How…” He swallowed and tried again. “How do you feel about me?”

  I was right, Friedrich thought. This is the end of me.

  Nathan was still talking. “Sometimes I think you feel one way, but then I remember, or I see you with someone else, and I think you couldn’t feel that way. I don’t know if what I see is what I want to see, or if it’s real.” His eyes were wide and fever-bright as they blinked at Friedrich. “How do you feel about me?” he repeated in a whisper.

  Friedrich was still holding Nathan’s face in his hand. Too shattered by the kiss and the energy in the room to be anything but devastatingly honest, he whispered, “I’m so in love with you, I think I might die of it.”

  Nathan stared at him, then shook his head fervently. “No,” he said, suddenly firm. He took hold of Friedrich’s arms with the urgency of his words, knocking the hand away from his chin. “I don’t want that, Friedrich, don’t you see? That’s not what I want!”

  Friedrich’s heart splintered in his chest, as he had known it would. “Okay,” he said quietly, leaning back and breaking Nathan’s hold on him in turn. “Okay.”

  “Friedrich?” Nathan asked, suddenly sounding lost and confused. His hands were still in the air, lingering around the shape of where Friedrich had been.

  Friedrich stood, putting more distance between them. “Your soup is probably ready,” he heard himself say. “I’ll get you a bowl.” He turned on his heel and fled for the kitchenette before Nathan could say anything else.

  The soup was ready, bubbling happily away in the kettle, and Friedrich busied himself finding a bowl to pour it into, and a spoon to rest inside. Once the meal was assembled, he had to lean against the counter to let a few tears and a single, silent sob out, but he brutally shoved the rest down for later.

  Blessedly, Nathan was asleep when he reentered the main room, looking like he had just tipped over sideways into unconsciousness. Friedrich looked at him, fondness throbbing painfully in his broken heart, and set the bowl on the hearth, far enough away that Nathan wouldn’t spill it accidentally when he woke, and where the fire would keep it warm.

  He took a cushion from behind Nathan’s back, lifted his head, and slipped it underneath, then rearranged his blanket where it had slipped off of his feet and shoulder. He spent a long moment with his lips pressed to Nathan’s temple, taking in the familiar scent of him for the last time, and then left him to his sleep.

  The gods were looking down on him, he reflected as he left the inn and made a beeline for his house; no one stopped him on the way home, and he didn’t run into any other jades on the stairs. He locked himself in his room for the rest of the day, no appetite for lunch or dinner, and by the time Tomas stumped upstairs the next morning to check on him, he was dizzy and chilled with fever, shivering in his warmest nightclothes under his fleece blanket.

  Tomas took one look at him and left again, returning a few minutes later with a tall glass of cold water and his own enormous mug, filled to the brim with what smelled like his preferred ginger tea. He set both down on Friedrich’s nightstand and settled down on the bed next to him. Friedrich squirmed closer to him and moaned piteously, for once not being a bit overdramatic. Tomas clucked and his hand landed in Friedrich’s hair, stroking through his damp, tangled curls.

  “Poor lad,” he rumbled. “I’ll take you off the schedule until you’re better, and mark you down for sick pay.”

  Friedrich opened his mouth, croaked indistinctly, and fumbled for the water glass to wet his throat. Tomas steadied his hands as he drank. “Could you take Nathan off my schedule entirely?” Friedrich asked when he was able, too miserable to be ashamed.

  “Did he hurt you?” Tomas asked sharply, turning Friedrich’s head to face him. “Do I need to have words?”

  “No.” Friedrich shook his head. “No, nothing like that.” He swallowed heavily and added in a very small voice, “I hurt myself.”

  Tomas relaxed, resuming his petting of Friedrich’s hair. “He doesn’t want you, then?”

  “Not all of me.” Friedrich closed his eyes, exhausted. He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink all night, too ill and sad to relax. “Only the parts everyone else wants, too.”

  “More fool him,” Tomas said firmly. “I’ll take him off your rota. Offer him Ahmed, maybe.”

  Friedrich thought, in a moment of hysteria, that if Nathan accepted the change and went to Ahmed, it might be the thing to destroy him completely. He just whined, butted his forehead against Tomas’ knee, and fell into a tormented sleep.

  Chapter 9

  Friedrich, all told, was out for the count for three nights, including his night off spent waiting to get ill. By long-standing house rule he quarantined himself in his room, Tomas bringing him food and drink and letting him whimper without judgment.

  The fever left him just before the end of working hours on the third night since Nathan had broken his heart. Friedrich stumbled to the bathroom to bathe before the other jades could fill the facilities, washing the sweat of illness off his still-tender skin and out of his hair.

  Back in his bedroom, toweling his curls dry before he made up the bed with fresh sheets, he took a moment to regard himself in the mirror. “I will get through this,” he told himself. His reflection looked skeptical.

  Tomas put him back on the schedule, and when Friedrich checked it after breakfast the next day, he saw that Nathan’s name was not on his list anymore, as he had requested. It was small comfort that he was also not on Ahmed’s.

  Friedrich spent most of the next week confining himself to the jadehouse, cooking his own meals instead of going out and cleaning his room over and over again until it sparkled. Tomas, bless his gruff, loving heart, had filled his first few nights back with his regulars, who knew him and were more likely to forgive an off night, but it turned out not to have been necessary. Slipping back into his jade’s mindset and persona, now that Nathan was not one of his assignations, turned out to be a glorious relief. He could laugh and joke with the men who paid for his time, molding himself into whatever they needed him to be for two hours at a stretch without issue, and was, frankly, thankful for the distraction.

  His only slip was when Tad brought a bouquet of flowers to his appointment and presented them to him, saying he was glad Friedrich had recovered well. The sweetness of the gesture made him have to fight down tears; but thankfully, if Tad noticed, he didn’t let on.

  Friedrich could not hide from everyone, however. Amaka requested a show, the night before Friedrich’s next night off, and though kissing Ahmed was usually a joy, he was so familiar that all Friedrich could think about was Nathan’s mouth, Nathan’s taste, Nathan’s fever-hot skin under his lips and hands.

  Amaka, fortunately, noticed nothing, and left as bright-eyed and satisfied as ever. Ahmed, however, took Friedrich by the chin as soon as she was gone and looked into his eyes. “Talk to me,” he said, his voice stern and affectionate.

  Instead of saying anything, Friedrich burst into a sudden flurry of tears. “Oh, fuck,” Ahmed sighed, characteristically blunt even as he pulled Friedrich’s face into his chest. “There, there,” he murmured stiffly, petting Friedrich’s shoulders and hair until the shower was over.

  “Ugh,” Friedrich said expressively, when it was through with him. “My apologies to your beautiful dressing gown.” There was a distinct wet spot on the collar that he couldn’t be quite sure was entirely tears.

  “Never mind my laundry,” Ahmed said, waving a hand dismissively. “What on earth is wrong?” Friedrich remained silent, but Ahmed, unfortunately, knew him too well for evasion. “Is it Nathan?”

  Friedrich sighed, taking one of Ahmed’s hands in both of his own for comfort. He winced gamely at him and said, “We can’t all be as lucky as you, darling.”

  “Do you want me to kill him?” Ahmed offered, startling a chuckle out of Friedrich. “I’d make a wonderful fugitive. And Haru would come on the run with me, I know he would. Think how romantic it would be, us on the lam together.”

  Friedrich smiled at him, wiping at his wet cheeks. “No, but I thank you for the offer,” he said. “I can’t afford to lose you, however romantic it would be.”

  “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind,” Ahmed said. “No one who hurts you deserves to live.”

  Friedrich kissed him on the cheek. “Tell me about Haru,” he said, instead of responding. “How are things between you two?”

  Ahmed smiled, the sight beautiful and soft. “Better than I ever imagined,” he said. “We’re taking things slowly. We go for walks, and he cooks for me, and I’m teaching him how to knit.” His eyes twinkled. “He likes doing my hair when I spend the night. He’s getting very good at braiding it.”

  Friedrich’s eyes misted over, and he lifted the hand he was still holding to his lips. “I’m so happy for you,” he managed through the lump in his throat.

  Ahmed bent forward and kissed him on the forehead. “Go to bed, menace,” he said quietly. “Things will get better soon.”

  He went, and for once his heart was light as sleep took him.

  The next day was his to do with as he wished—and what he wished, he realized while cleaning his teeth after breakfast, was to venture back out into the world. He had cloistered himself long enough; he still had friends beyond the jadehouse, and he had neglected them for too long.

  He presented himself at Noelle’s door, a daffodil in hand from Tad’s bouquet to stave off her fury. To his surprise, she set it on the countertop before throwing her arms around him. “I’ve been so worried about you,” she said, squeezing him breathless before stepping back to regard him from arms’ length. “No one would say what had happened, other than that you were ill.”

  “I was ill,” Friedrich said, and then, “and a little careless with my heart. But I’m recovering, and am very sorry to have worried you.” He made the most elegant leg he could manage while she was still gripping him by the shoulders.

  “Hmm.” She scrutinized him for a moment longer, then drew him behind the counter and allowed him to sit. “I had wondered if it was something of the kind,” she said, crossing one leg over the other. “Nathan’s been looking rather haggard as well, and the rumor I heard was that Tomas actually had to bar him from your door.”

  Tomas had said nothing about Nathan trying to come and see him, and Friedrich’s heart rose a little despite his best efforts. “It’s a long, sad story,” he said, “and I’d rather not get into the details just now.”

  “As you like,” she said airily. “But if you’re going to be here, I’m going to put you to work.” She handed him a pair of trousers, and he spent the next few hours hemming and repairing seams. Noelle left him in charge of the shop while she ran to Ellen’s for lunch, and then after they’d eaten roped him into modeling a long, flowing skirt while she made adjustments to the waistband.

  All day, Friedrich could tell there was something Noelle was holding back from him, and as the bells chimed three o’clock, she finally put him out of his misery. “I’m still not sure if I should give you this,” she said, lifting her cash box to reveal a small, folded slip of paper underneath. “But I think it’ll probably be for the best.”

  Friedrich took the paper from her, unfolded it, and almost dropped it when he recognized the handwriting.

  Friedrich, it read,

  I owe you an apology, and I hope you will let me give it to you in person. I will be in the park every day, from 10-11 A.M. and 3-5 P.M., until you come or tell me you will not.

  Yours,

  Nathan

  “He left this with you?” Friedrich asked, looking up from the paper into Noelle’s concerned face.

  She nodded. “A week ago. And one with Ellen, in case you went there first.” She smiled. “He tried to get it to you through Tomas first, but I think your boss rather told him to go to hell.”

  Friedrich laughed faintly and looked down at the note again. An apology? Nathan had broken his heart, but he’d done it honestly—Friedrich had never, in all his misery the past week, considered himself in need of an apology for it.

  “I should go,” he said, not making the decision until the words were coming out of his mouth. “Thank you.” He kissed her on the cheek, waited for her smile, and left, turning for the park as soon as he hit the brisk air outside.

  The park was nestled in a little grove just east of the center of town, and Friedrich reached it just as the quarter-hour bells ceased. As he entered it, he saw a figure on the nearest bench, wrapped in a familiar battered leather jacket. “Nathan,” he called softly, and the man’s head snapped up.

  “Friedrich,” Nathan breathed, rising at his approach. He took a step toward him and then seemed to catch himself, coming to an unsteady halt. “You came.”

  “I did,” Friedrich said tightly. His walls had come up on the walk over, and he made no echoing move to close the distance between them, for his own protection. “You wanted to talk?”

  “I—Friedrich, I’m so sorry,” Nathan said brokenly. His hand was slightly raised, as though he wanted to reach for Friedrich but wasn’t sure how he would be received. “I had no right to, to do what I did, and I’ve made you uncomfortable, and I’m so, so sorry. I’ve ruined everything.”

  Friedrich furrowed his brow. Nathan’s words still weren’t making any sense. “You had every right to do what you did,” he said slowly, watching Nathan’s face for anything that would help him understand. “It hurt, I won’t lie, but you were honest.”

  “Honest?” Now Nathan looked confused. “Well, I did honestly want you to kiss me, but you’d made it very clear you didn’t want that, and I shouldn’t have asked—”

  “Wait,” Friedrich said, raising a hand to cut him off. “What, exactly, are you apologizing for, Nathan?”

  “For making you kiss me,” Nathan said wretchedly. “I shouldn’t have put you in a situation where you felt like you had no choice—”

  Friedrich shook his head, and Nathan fell silent again. “You didn’t make me kiss you, Nathan,” Friedrich said. The words were like weights dragging him down, but apparently, they needed to be spoken. “No one makes me do anything, even when they’re paying. If I didn’t want to kiss you, I wouldn’t have.”

  Nathan didn’t look any happier at this revelation. “Then…why?” he asked, sounding helplessly confused still. “Of course, you can stop seeing me, I don’t mean to try and force my way back into your good graces, but if it wasn’t the kiss, then, what was it?”

  Friedrich was starting to get properly angry now, and it felt good, warm and protective. “You really don’t know?”

  “You told me you loved me,” Nathan said desperately, gazing at Friedrich like he held all the answers in the universe. “And then you left.”

  “Yes, I told you I loved you,” Friedrich bit out. “And then you told me you didn’t want that.”

  For a long moment, Nathan’s face showed nothing but blank shock, and then, impossibly, it creased, and he started to laugh. Friedrich stood there, anger simmering away in his chest, as Nathan dropped his face into his hands, then rubbed them over his still-laughing mouth and approached him.

  “Friedrich,” Nathan said, his face and voice infinitely fond as he stepped up in front of him and carefully took his face into his hands. “Friedrich, you beautiful, magnificent idiot.”

  Friedrich blinked at him, torn between his righteous fury and the simple bliss of feeling Nathan’s touch again. “What?”

  Nathan laughed again. “You glorious, wonderful fool.” He tipped Friedrich’s face forward, pressed a warm kiss to his forehead, then leaned back and, still smiling fit to burst, said, “I meant that I didn’t want you to die of it.”

  Friedrich’s heart skipped a beat, then another. “What?” he repeated, quieter this time, as his mind started racing. “You—what?”

  Nathan stroked his thumbs across Friedrich’s cheekbones patiently. “You told me you loved me enough that you thought you might die of it, and that was the worst possible thing I could think of, because what would I do with all of my love for you, if you died of your love for me?” Friedrich’s breath caught and Nathan’s smile grew even wider. “What good would your dying do either of us, when you could live instead and let me love—”

  Friedrich cut him off for a third time, throwing his arms around Nathan’s neck and plastering their mouths together. Nathan was laughing into the kiss, and it took them a moment to reposition themselves to do the thing properly, but then Nathan’s lips were sliding into place against his, fitting like a key in its perfect lock.

  Friedrich let out a muffled little sound and clutched at him, kissing him again. He took a step backward, tugging Nathan with him, and they stumbled together until his back slammed into something hard and unyielding; he felt bark scrape against the back of his coat and ignored it in favor of pushing his hand into Nathan’s gorgeous hair and parting the seam of his lips for Nathan’s questing tongue.

  They kissed again and again, deep and drugging and relentless, until Friedrich suddenly couldn’t take the pleasure anymore. He pulled his mouth free with a wrench and said, with the last vestiges of his draining irritation, “You couldn’t have phrased it a little differently?”

  Nathan grinned again, his kiss-swollen lips stretching across his face as he pressed their foreheads together. “You couldn’t have confessed to me when I wasn’t half-delirious with fever?” he countered teasingly.

  Friedrich laughed, and Nathan laughed with him, and then Friedrich had to clap a hand over his mouth as his laughter broke on a sob. Nathan sobered quickly, holding him close as he fought to get ahold of himself. “I thought you didn’t want me,” he managed to gasp after a few moments, his free hand still twisted into Nathan’s jacket. “Not all of me. Not my heart.”

 

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