Nerein tucked him into bed after, under blankets. Peter caught his hand. “Where’re you going?”
“Tea. And currant buns. Don’t move. Stay warm.”
“I am. Do you want help?”
“No. I want you right here.” Those otherworldly eyes danced. “I want to come back and find you just like this.”
“I can do that.” Peter snuggled down into pillows and thick conspiratorial woolen knit. His blankets were on Nerein’s side. They’d fallen in love too. “But tell me if you have an argument with the kettle.”
“We’ve come to an agreement. We’re friends now. I’ll be back in a moment.”
His merman went. Peter, hugging a pillow, muffled a sudden laugh in feathers. Being cared for by a sea-prince. Who knew him inside and out. After an opera. Seated by royalty. And Nerein had come to an agreement with his teakettle, u
