Emyr asked, looking puzzled. “You let me talk on and on about myself!” Emyr shrugged, not meeting Heilyn’s gaze. “It wasn’t a hardship to listen.” Heilyn couldn’t quite tell if that had been intended as a compliment or no, so he marched across to Emyr, and put his hands on his shoulders to stop him from running away. “You need to share. So, how was your day?” Emyr shrugged, blushing a little. “It was good.” “What made it good?” He was looking a little panicky. “I don’t really know. I made a profit on selling oats to Briallen and, um, I don’t know—er, Dilys brought me honeycakes for my lunch. There,” he finished, so triumphantly that Heilyn wanted to kiss him. “It does sounds like a good day,” he said instead. “We should do this again tomorrow. I want to know.” “I’m not very practiced at this, Heilyn,” Emyr confessed. “Talking about myself. I don’t know what you want me to say.” “Anything you like,” Heilyn said and did kiss him, just a peck on the end of his nose.
