When Freya paused Zevulun did too, peering into the open expanse of the Inlet briefly before glancing back at her. The touch of her nose against his skin, though innocent in gesture, inspired a shiver started from where the warmth of her breath soaked into his flesh. Zevulun swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat and fought through the haze of desire to refocus on their conversation rather than the very physical way Freya affected him.
“Of course,” he agreed with a firm nod, clearing his throat hastily. “I wouldn’t try to convince you to leave your home in the Forest, away from Persephone.” Mariael respected Persephone far more than she’d respected most her allies in the past and had told Zevulun as much. Furthermore, Zevulun had briefly met Persephone when he’d visited the Forest with Bjorn and Dancia and saw the merit in her character then and there. Plus, if nothing else, when winter broke and the water flowed on Tinuvel, Zevulun could always travel to the Forest to visit Freya himself. The idea of it – adventure, travel, exploration and a beautiful mare to woo – was enough to excite him.
“But I am glad you know you’re welcome here. If ever you want to visit.” Extended stay or just a short tryst, Zevulun would always be happy when the winds brought Freya back to the Bay’s shore.
“I guess I should let you and Baldr get on,” he said, though regret hung on the edges of his tone. He glanced inland and took a breath. Freya had lived here for years upon years, she knew how to survive in the Inlet and it’d likely be insulting if he asked to stick around during her entire trip. She’d come to Tinuvel to show her son and to revisit herself, she’d likely enjoy time alone to explore the land and see how little (or how greatly) it’d changed.
“I’m really glad you came today.” He said before she could leave, eyes bright as he watched her. “It was good getting to know you a little better.” He winked playfully and grinned.
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