Subedei had spent years in the palace kitchen, his hands rough from fire, his arms strong from kneading dough and lifting heavy pots.
He had faced the queen's wrath, the demands of nobility, and the endless chaos of feeding an entire court but nothing unsettled him the way Jesper did.
The boy was all quick smiles and reckless courage, far too bold for his own good. And tonight, Jesper had outdone himself.
A candlelit table, a feast stolen from the queen's own stores, and that look in his eyes was hopeful, wanting, and dangerous.
Subedei stood frozen in the doorway, his instincts screaming at him to turn back, to put distance between them before it was too late.
He should scold Jesper, tell him how foolish this was, how one wrong step could see their heads decorating the castle gates by morning.
Then Jesper smiled, and the fear in Subedei's chest warred with something even more dangerous, longing.
"Happy Red Day," Jesper said, his voice quiet but full of warmth.
