An elegant, nearly transparent glitter-winged butterfly landed on Isaac's stack of heavy books with an otherworldly little chime that played from seemingly nowhere. He smiled at the tiny notification and pushed himself away from the wide wooden desk.
He waved a hand over the mirrored orb and the little butterfly dissolved, blowing a tiny cloud of sparkles that would also fade away soon. Then his husband's face appeared.
He must have watched the message thirty times he realized with a start when the crown princess came bursting into his office. Mason's face faded away once the device lost his attention and Isaac's haze of longing and desire cracked him open enough for a deeper sense of lonely to settle in.
He tried to tell himself that it was just another part of the job. Tried to take comfort in the fact that nothing human wanted to cross swords with Ser Aleron, the green-eyed warrior of fanciful bard tales. It helped, if only a little.
The Lord Regent held in his weary sigh as he turned to face his duty, fielding questions, formulating strategies, and conjuring solutions to problems still yet unseen by most. It was dark before he was done with the day's work. He gestured lightly and another sparkling butterfly appeared in the palm of his outstretched hand. His face and his voice softened. He could replay Mason's message, every movement, every cadence, every breath, from memory alone – and he let himself before he answered.
“I miss you too. Come home soon.”
