The day was at least twice as lovely once the window was no longer separating Jonathan from the world. As he walked across the platform and down the steps he exalted in the way the cool breeze felt as it ruffled his hair and chased away the lingering heat of Boriv’s office. The dwarves looked at a day like today as if it was the middle of winter. They only went outside completely bundled up in furs, and even then they only did so for short periods of time when it was absolutely necessary. Even though he’d long since grown used to suffering through it day after day, he still had trouble understanding the stonemen’s need for heat. For the first several months he’d been there he’d thought it was part of some elaborate prank to torment him. He’d been younger then though, and after a long day of scribbling he could run to the creek, shed his jacket and trousers and join the village boys in those cold clear waters. 

Father had long since run out of patience for those sorts of activities though. They were unbecoming of his station, he’d told Jonathan on more than one occasion. As lovely as it was today it was not yet hot enough to risk a willow switch and another firm admonishment. Besides, he thought, the only thing worse than being punished after he was inevitably caught sneaking in through the back door covered in mud, would be for Claire to see him behaving so immaturely. No, that wouldn’t do at all, Jonathan decided. Instead he took his jacket off and hung it over his shoulder in the way he’d seen adults do so many times. Today the only self indulgence he would allow himself would be to take the long way home. Not just because he hoped to see Claire today, he assured himself, but to enjoy the beautiful weather before he had to once again endure the heat of tomorrow's labors. 

As he took the way around the northern rim of the village, Jonathan congratulated himself on what was definitely the correct choice. If he’d taken the direct route down the main street he’d practically be home already, and he would have missed so much. This spring was shaping up to be a good one after what everyone agreed was a mild winter, and everywhere he looked he saw new lambs or calves, rambunctiously annoying the older animals in pastures and smaller enclosures. The world was alive, and vibrant. Whatever problems had kept his father and brother arguing until late into the night lately would surely be solved by the bumper crop that seemed all but guaranteed by the weather the last few weeks. 

“Your Lordship,” a woman’s voice said behind him, making the dignity Jonathan had been affecting fall away as he spun around. He knew that voice. When he turned he wasn’t disappointed. Standing before him was the object of his affection to be just finishing a mocking curtsy. 

“Oh will you cut that out already?” he asked, trying to get his voice steady now that he was looking at how pretty Claire was again. It was one thing to recall how beautiful she was, but to see her dressed in the loose cotton dress she wore on warm days like today… to be reminded of how unlike a proper lady’s dress it only went down to her mid calf and left her ankles completely exposed. 

“But I wouldn’t want to make you feel disrespected,” she said, teasing him again. Jonathan noticed then that her younger brother and sister stood only a few steps behind him titered at the exchange. He was used to dealing with this sort of friendly abuse from the village children his own age as long as there weren’t adults around. Normally he could give as good as he got, but there was just something about Claire that disarmed him completely. He could barely even look at her when he spoke. If he tried to meet her gaze he would get lost in her eyes, if he looked at his shoes he would inevitably notice how pretty her legs were, and if he looked at her dress… Well, it was fitting her less well as she grew, so the less he looked at her dress the better. 

Today he chose to look at the little pests that followed her everywhere she went. Today Jonathan couldn’t help but notice that until she’d started mocking him Claire had obviously been lugging around a heavy shopping basket while her siblings followed with empty hands. “The only thing that makes me feel disrespected is seeing a loyal subject like you so o-overburdened while your lazy siblings do nothing to help you out.”

Claire looked from Jonathan to her brother and sister and back again, adding “You’re right your Lordship. They are wicked, shiftless children. How shall we punish them? The stocks? A whipping? Maybe we should sell them to the dwarves so they can teach them the meaning of hard work in the salt mines…”

Jonathan took some joy in watching Nicholas and Tarry’s expression transform from laughter to silence and finally mock worry as they imagined all the horrible things that the dwarves from their fairy stories might do to them. “No please,” Tarry quailed, “anything but that!”

“Not today. I am a generous Lord afterall. Today we shall simply…” Jon turned to face Claire as he spoke, which was a critical mistake. Just like that all his confidence and wit burst into flames and disappeared in a puff of smoke as he thought about how pretty she was today. 

Claire looked at him expectantly for a long moment, and at a loss for words Jon bent down and picked up her basket. “Well, don’t keep up in suspense my lord - what shall we do with these ragamuffins?”

“We’ll shame them,” Jonathan croaked, before swallowing hard and clearing his throat. “We’ll just have to lead by example and let everyone see them for who they really are.”

“How elegant,” Claire said, as her airs outran her vocabulary. “Truely a masterfully plan.” Even if she didn’t get it quite right, her words still made John smile. Claire didn’t know how to read, so the fact that she knew even half the words she did really spoke to her intelligence along with her humor. If father ever let him propose to the girl he would definitely get her tutor as a wedding present he decided. She could… Jonathan felt something on his arm, and when he looked down to see what it was he almost dropped her basket. Claire was no longer walking beside him; now she’d linked arms with him like they were on some gallant romantic stroll while all the while she continued her game. “We’ll show the village how you were so unhelpful the young lord had to help me with my heavy load. I’m practically ashamed to be related to you!”

Jonathan blushed slightly. Not just at the realization that she was touching him though. She was doing it where people could see, and as far as he could tell she didn’t seem to be embarrassed by it in the least. He, on the other hand, was utterly mortified, but not so mortified that he never wanted it to stop. She held onto his left arm ever so lightly as they walked the two blocks back to her home. Even though his right arm struggled with the weight of the basket he never made a noise of complaint or tried to shift the weight. When they finally arrived Claire’s mother looked at them from the window but said nothing as smiled at their youthful game. 

‘And let that be a lesson to you,” Jonathan said lamely, looking at Claire’s younger siblings because he didn’t trust himself to look at her again without grinning like an idiot. 

“Indeed,” Claire chimed in. “If only there was some way I could reward you my lord, but I am but a poor peasant girl with no coin to spare.” 

“It’s alright, Claire,” he answered, oblivious to the meaningful look she was trying to give him as he turned to walk away, “Just be sure to flog the little wastrels if they ever behave like—” That was when she kissed him. It was just a momentary peck on the cheek, but the second he realized what had happened his entire body flushed with heat. 

It was so fast that he almost missed it, but when he turned to look at her she was blushing as badly as he was. While this moment of realization occurred one of the younger children cried out “Ewww,” while the other said “Gross!” practically in unison.  

Jonathan didn’t know what to do. He’d never been put on the spot quite like this before. Some part of him knew that the right way to handle this would have been to finish playing their game and thank her with an overly exaggerated flourish. ‘I need no reward my lady. I blah blah blah,’ or ‘such a gift is worth more than any jewel in my vast collection, I shall blah blah blah.’ Instead all he was about to do was mumble a quick “thanks” and wander off in a daze as his mind replayed the soft warmth of her touch and her smell lingered on his clothes. It only occurred to him by the time he was around the corner that what he’d said was pretty close to the worst answer he could have possibly given a girl that showed interest in him. 

He cringed and fought against the urge to run back and try again. That would only make things worse. If he’d kissed a girl and she’d told him thank you before running away then he’d be certain that the last thing she ever wanted was to see him again. He hung his head in shame and started walking again. After he got home he was going to have to curl up in a little ball and wait for the gods to grant him a merciful release from all this shame. He just couldn’t help it. Around anyone else he would have known just what to say, but with her his mouth stopped working and his brain just twisted up into knots. It was like he was allergic to her or something. 

Maybe he could write her an apology note, he decided. Something cute and clever but not too forward. Something that… she wouldn’t be able to read. He sighed again. He was hopeless. A hopeless case that was going to— 

“Oi - Jon, get over here,” his brother called from nowhere, severing the thread of his internal conversation. It was just as well, he thought as he looked around for Marcus. He didn’t really need anymore time for self pity. He found him sitting just inside town’s only tavern, having a beer while he waved at Jonathan through the open window. At twenty Marcus was his oldest sibling, and as often as not he could be found at the three mules buying a round or two for the entourage he was almost always surrounded with. The only odd thing about him being here tonight was that he seemed to be alone.

“What do you need Marcus?” Jonathan asked, walking up to the window. 

“I need you to get your ass in here and have a drink with me!” he said, a bit too loudly, slamming his mostly empty tankard down. It looked like he’d already gotten started for the night. 

“But Father is expecting me, and—” he started, trying to use his best excuse first. He and Marcus had a strained relationship under the best of time, and once he got drunk, well - the less he saw a drunken Marcus, the better. 

“Dad can wait,” Marcus insisted, his tone becoming quieter and more insistent. “This is important, so get in here so we can talk.”