Cin still hoped he and Lorenz would right the dilemma of an heir soon, though with each failed search he was fearing more and more that he’d led them out on false hope.
They’d decided—with the queen and king’s agreement—to tell very few people of the purpose of their quest, taking only a handful of trusted castle staff with them. Among those were two of Lorenz’s personal watch, Lieselotte and Mildred, one of whom had been reassigned to Cin, as well as Conrad from the cooking staff, Roza from the stables, and Berit, who filled in their little party by attending to everything else. At that very moment, Cin could hear Berit distantly bickering with Mildred over something that seemed, based on the little he could pick up, to be about the stacking of the cooking supplies. Both he and Lorenz had grumbled last night that the two needed to get over themselves and fuck already.
As much as Cin was growing to adore their small party of kind and dedicated members—even enjoying the drama that sprung up from time to time, which was always resolved with a care and compassion he’d never experienced at home—he missed his familiar haunts, his town, and most especially Emma. She was happier back in the city, though, where she’d joined the crown’s newly reconstructed watch, working alongside the common folk to decide how best to incorporate a benevolent system of justice throughout the kingdom. When she had the peace of mind to focus, it seemed she could be incredibly perceptive, even if she still had not mastered a proper braid.
They all had their own path in life, though, Cin knew. He was proud of Emma for seeking out her own, just as he and Lorenz were doing. Though at the moment, all theirs seemed to entail was traipsing uselessly through the forest and fucking.
From beneath Cin, Lorenz groaned dramatically. “I think I may lie here a moment and contemplate the weary state of my poor bones.” He shifted, pressing his lips tenderly to top of Cin’s head. “But you go on. I can feel you’re restless.”
Cin couldn’t deny that. His magic had been useless at finding Adalwin thus far, but for the last few days a worrying little tug inCin’s chest had appeared, pulling at him with something nearing aggression. He could sense a twinge of it reflected in Lorenz where the shimmer of Ragimund and Lacey still gleamed in his chest.
Lately, out of the corner of his eye he’d been catching Lorenz tenderly cuddling a pair of ghostly pigeons against his shoulder, but the forms always vanished when Cin looked at his partner head-on, and Lorenz only smiled and waved after. Cin gave one last kiss to the magical flesh above Lorenz’s heart all the same, praying a soft thanks to the birds who had made this future with his lover possible. The warmth that overtook his chest after seemed to come from somewhere outside himself, and he could not help but smile through the sheen of moisture that still formed over his eyes whenever he thought of Rags and Lacey.
Cin slid back on his trousers and buttoned himself up, leaving Lorenz to his last few minutes of rest before their trek would begin anew. A little shiver ran through him as he exited the warmth of the tent. With a spark from his magic, his feather cloak slid down from around his shoulders. He meandered through their little camp, exchanging short greetings with the other members of their small group. All the while, he could feel the protective gazes of the birds resting in the half-bare winter trees around them.
His flock had only grown since he’d realized the magic of his pigeons came from deep within himself, each small nurturing of that power allowing him to divvy it out to new members of their growing protectorate. Most of his flock were still pigeons, but while they traveled the forest, Cin had found owls and vultures and the occasional hawk to be more comfortable within the trees than his usual town-birds, many of whom were currently awaiting him in the closest of the villages. If he closed his eyes and focused, he could sense them in a nebulous way, like distant extensions of himself.
There was, of course, one pigeon from his flock who, regardless of the forest’s depths and horrors, still never left Cin’s side. She landed on his shoulder as he neared the edge of their small camp, puffing up her chest as though she was the queen of their flock. He gave Perdition’s neck a scratch, which she tried, obstinately, to dodge.
She latched around his earlobe instead and tugged.
“How rude!” Cin protested, trying to shift her away from his ear. She moved to nipping at his fingers instead.
The tug of magic in Cin’s chest suddenly strengthened. The babble of frog-song echoed through his head, and for a single breath, the air felt thick and muggy despite the early winter chill. Hope rushed through Cin. He dashed through the camp, shouting as he went.
His excitement seemed contagious, hoots and hollers echoing between the group’s members. Their joy only made the smile spreading across Cin’s face grow. They trusted him, without hesitation or question. It was such an incredible feeling to be surrounded by people who understood and respected him for his place in their lives. Cin didn’t think he’d ever quite get used to it, at least not for months or years yet.
Lorenz’s expression was a bit different from the rest, though, as he stumbled out of the tent still working through the buttons of his shirt. His eyes were so wide they seemed mostly whites, his face slack with worry. He grabbed Cin’s hands, holding them in a death grip.
“You really think— Could this be— If it’s really him—” He didn’t seem to know how to finish his own sentences, babbling them through shallow breaths.
Cin squeezed his hands in turn and pulled him close. “I hope so, yes,” he said, but he could see the real question on Lorenz’s face, one that had slipped out in bits and pieces over the courseof their travels. “He still loves you. He’s your brother. He always will.”
“But there were so many years where I couldn’t love him,” Lorenz whispered, tucking his face against the side of Cin’s.
“He’ll understand.” Cin believed that, but he knew it might take Lorenz meeting his brother again—talking to him, hearing of his life, and letting Adalwin hear of his—for it to truly sink in. He squeezed his prince’s hands again. “We need to get going. I don’t know how long I’ll feel this pull.”
Lorenz swallowed, but he nodded, putting on a brave face. “All right. Let us find my brother, then!”
Sometimes, it turned out, God smiled on those who’d thrown aside piety, so long as they’d done it for the sake of goodness.
Hallin would have its crowned prince after all, and Lorenz would have his brother, and Cin—Cin would have them all: a family, a partner, a future. If Cin had anything to say on the matter, they were all going to live happily ever after.
Cin smiled. “Let’s go find Adalwin.”
