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Tom teased with a playful smirk, “Or there are other emissions that would probably work…”
“Certainly not,” Thierry sniffed, clearly offended.
“Just a thought,” Tom said, laughing and heading over to the refreshment table.
The calcination reached completion, so Zayan tipped the pale pink ashes into the modern sublimation flask. Asking Tom for help was the best thing he ever did. The new equipment was so much simpler than the weighty ceramic clamshells that Bluebeard had always used, and even better, he could follow the progress of the sublimation through the clear glass.
He inserted the cold finger at the top of the flask and started the cool water flowing through it, clamping the entire apparatus on the heating mantle. Tom handed him a glass of wine and a plate of nibbles, and they sat down to wait. As they watched, the ashes danced and sputtered in the heat, and the tiny leaflets of vitality crystalized on the surface of the cold finger above.
“Looks like your improved protocol for the moon foam is working,” Tom said, leaning in close. “Those crystals are better than ever!”
“I think so,” Zayan said as the ashes slowly shrank and darkened to dusty rose pink. “Starting the synthesis at full moon seems to make everything more stable.” The ashy residue of pure love looked to be excellent this time too, darkened by dirty specks of worry from all the challenges of running a castle and keeping a chain of spas relevant to the changing fashions of the other world. But no worry…he could easily separate the worry from the love, after he completed their new dose of Elixir. He added, “But I have some ideas for next time.”
“Don’t you always?” Hoyle joked.
“I think the silk might be interfering, since it retains a slight residue of the death of the moths. I’m thinking we’ll try cotton next time.”
“I have some ideas, too,” Tom said, jumping up and gesturing expansively with his glass. “Next year, you’ll need to do a proper proposal. On bended knee. Some begging would not be unwelcome.”
“Anything you’d like, dear,” Zayan said, rolling his eyes but already planning the grand gesture for his next proposal. It would need to be a surprise—his husband always loved surprises—perhaps up at the promontory, and he could talk to Hoyle about flowers to make it extra special. Tom was such a sentimental fool, but that was one of the many things he loved about his handsome Huggybear. And the following wedding, Charlie could help him arrange a romantic ride to Riverford. Tom would love it, now that he was more comfortable in the saddle. And the year after that…who knows? Even after a hundred years, they’d only begun to explore the possibilities.
