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“Why would I laugh?” he asked seriously.
Biting my lip, I closed my eyes and yanked the dark wool out to hand it to him. When I didn’t feel him take it from my hands, I peeked through one eye to see what he was doing. But he was just staring at it, which made me more anxious.
“I was having trouble thinking about what I could
possibly give you. I mean, I’m sure you have everything. Then while researching for Dr. Lovell, I came across some information on ninth-century Greece and how one of the most valued gifts you could give to a man was a brand-new chlamys,” I explained, but still, he was silent, and so I babbled on. “I, ugh, I didn’t make it from scratch…I mean, I picked out the wool, and I did sew the border design. It took me a while because I’m not very good at it. Not really, and all the samples I saw online were blurry or way too complex for me to sew. I didn’t want to do it with magic, and you, of course, you have no need for it.” I huffed when he still didn’t say anything. “Never mind, I should eat—”
He took it from my hands before I could shove it as far down my bag as magically possible. He ran his finger gently over the old right-shoulder brooch I’d ordered from eBay before turning it over and looking at my crappy golden margin designs.
“It was very common for a man to have a chlamys.” He finally spoke, a small smile spreading across his lips. “Simple ones were inexpensive to buy or make, so do you know why being gifted one was so valuable?”
“The book didn’t say.” I really hoped I didn’t just make a fool of myself, though. “Why?”
“Because it meant that you had someone waiting for you. Someone who cared deeply,” he replied, his gaze back on me, and I could see the reflection of the fire in his eyes. “Chlamys were worn only by men who were traveling far or about to go to war. Both things could easily be the end of life in those days. So, wives or lovers would sometimes prepare one, hoping such a day would not come, but if it did, and it most certainly always did, they could present it as a gift, to keep them warm and remind the man that they were waiting for them.”
“Oh.” The book definitely didn’t say all of that.
“In fact”—the smile spread wide on his face—“if an unmarried woman was seen to have bought a chlamys, everyone would say, ‘She has a lover and is ready to wed him, for most likely she has already bed him.’”
My mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened. “You are making that up!”
“It is as true as day and night.” He laughed, lifting the wool for me to see again. “And I find it unbelievable that a scholar such as yourself would not know this. Therefore, I can only assume this is your way of telling me that you wish to wed?”
“I-I—shut up!” I laughed, taking my bread and throwing it at him. He caught it with ease. “I didn’t know any of that! Give it back!”
“I refuse. It is mine now and always,” he shot back and even went as far as to put it on, clasping the gold thread over the brooch. He chuckled to himself. “I have not worn one of these in ages. Thank you, my love. It is perfect.”
His enjoyment made me so happy that I had to stuff food into my mouth to keep from grinning like an idiot.
“I’m glad you like it, but there is no hidden meaning behind it. I simply wished to give a gift…and say I love you.” I said the last part quickly and under my breath as I lifted the spoon to stuff my mouth.
“What was that last bit?” he asked gently.
“Hmm?” I pretended not to hear.
“Druella.”
“I said I loved you! Happy?” I replied.
He grinned so wide I saw all of his teeth. “The happiest. So much so it is taking all of my strength to keep from taking you here and now.”
The little evil part of me beamed, and I leaned forward. “If you give me my gift now, we can take each other.”
“It is not yet midnight. You must wait for your gift.”
I groaned. “Seriously? It’s close enough—”
“It is not close enough. This is my first time—our first time celebrating your birthday together. So, it must be done on your actual birthday,” Theseus said as he handed me the mug of hot chocolate.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that tomato soup and hot chocolate didn’t really pair well together or that the soup was super salty. In fact, anything he made that wasn’t a sandwich was salty. Maybe in his eyes, mortals were always just consuming heaps of salt, so he always added extra for good measure.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the drink to cleanse my mouth. “Can you at least give me a hint?”
“No,” he said sternly.
“Fine.” I pouted before shoving another spoonful of soup in my mouth. “I’ll just sit here and die of anticipation.”
“I doubt it. You would rather live longer out of curiosity,” he teased.
