“Yeah, he was projecting.” she shrugged, resuming eating.

“Tch.” Lear shot an annoyed look at the door. “Piece of shit.”

Winna snorted, “He’s not really a bad man. He just thinks he can change my mind, but in the end, I'm not interested, and he can't get that through his thick skull."

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. I should probably feel flattered. I’m something of an old maid now that I’m thirty.”

“That’s not old.” It was Lear’s turn to roll his eyes.

She shrugged, “Most women are married by twenty-one around here, and usually they get hitched younger than that. I’m sort of the odd one out. It’s alright, I’m not worried about it.” Winna looked around fondly at her cottage, “I’m happy with the life I have here. I have everything I need.”

“Good for you.” Lear murmured.

It was quiet for a few moments.

“On that note, why aren’t you married? You’re handsome enough and have a pleasant personality.” she asked.

“I guess it does beg the question.” he sighed. “I’ve never felt inclined. It’s different for my people, though. Humans often pair off for life, or that’s the intention, usually. It’s rarely the intention with my kin. So much so that a fey marriage, in its oldest and truest sense, is incredibly rare, given it’s magically binding, and doesn't allow the married couple to feel anything but love for one another, and leaves us unable to feel desire for anyone else. Very few of us are interested in such a binding situation.

“That sounds like a good thing though. Love forever, and no wandering eyes. How is that a bad thing?”

“We in the high fey courts often wear our promiscuity like a badge of honor, of sorts. So to bind ourselves in such a way to one person is seen as giving up what’s considered one of the most intrinsic things in our beings.” Lear shrugged, “And it kind of takes away an aspect of our free will, which we don’t like the thought of. That said, the one couple I knew that went so far are very happy and in love.”

“Huh. I wish humans had something like that.” she muttered.

“Well, it also really is something to be cautious with. Just because you love someone doesn't mean you’ll be happy with them. Imagine being stuck in a marriage where you’re compelled to love the other person, and they you, but you’re ultimately not happy or fulfilled in life, and a different, more wisely-chosen partner might have not led to that.”

Winna was quiet for a little while. “I…I see your point. I shouldn’t equate love with happiness. That’s a fallacy, really. Just because you love someone doesn't mean you’ll be happy.”

“Exactly.”

It was quiet for a little while.

“Well, I’ve learned a lot more about fey folk than I ever thought I would in the last few days.”

“I hope that’s not a bad thing.” Lear smiled slightly.

“It’s not. I like learning.” she assured him, then stood. “We should get going.”

“Of course.” he stood and helped her clear off the table, and they quickly did the dishes.

“Thank you for helping.” the young woman murmured.

“I want to pull my own weight as much as possible.” he shrugged.

“I still appreciate it.” She sat down and started struggling into her boots, then frowned and looked up at him. “You don’t have any boots or a coat or anything.”

“No, I don't.”

“I think I have some of my dad’s old clothes stashed away somewhere.” She stood again, went to a closet, then started to dig through it.

“I don’t actually need them. We don’t feel temperature extremes the same way humans do."

“Oh?” she pulled out of the closet to look at him for a moment, then sighed and shook her head. “Well, I think folks around here will find you a little less…unusual if you dress like they do, based on the weather.”

“Fair enough.” he shrugged. It was in his best interest for the locals to not dislike him.

“I hope it’ll fit though, you’re taller than dad was, and both of my brothers.” the young woman frowned.

“I can adjust clothing in size with magic.”

“Oh? Well that’s handy.” She finally pulled out a coat and a pair of socks and boots. “Here.”

Lear took them, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Winna nodded.

He slipped his feet into the thick socks, then into the boots. “The boots fit well.”

“Good.” Winna looked over from lacing up her own shoes. “And the coat?”

“Too tight in the shoulders. I'll just make it a bit bigger.” he muttered, then pulled for his magic to adjust it. Intense pain shot through him as his magic surged, thanks to the poison. He grimaced, reining his power back in and shrugging out of the coat with a wince. “Uh…it’s fine. I don’t need one.”

“The poison?” she asked softly, looking up from tying her boots.

“Yes.” he hung the coat on the coat rack. “I’ll be alright.”

“Are you sure you won’t be cold?” her face was full of concern.

Gentle warmth spread through him at her worry for him. It was entirely misplaced, but very sweet. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I keep forgetting you can’t lie.” Winna chewed her lip in a way that was surprisingly endearing, “Tell me you won’t be cold or uncomfortable.”

“I won’t be cold or uncomfortable.” he told her readily, then reached out and helped her up.

Instead of immediately stepping away, she frowned, eyeing his shirt. It was long-sleeved, but likely not as thick as a human would want in the winter.

“Hm. Well, I at least have a scarf you can wear.” She went to the coat rack and pulled a scarf off, then paused and brightened, “Oh, wait! I have a cloak! That’ll work!” she hurried back to the closet and dug around it again for a moment, then triumphantly held out a long black cloak.

“Yes, that’ll work.” he took the cloak, and shrugged it on. “It does fit well.”

“Good.” Winna smiled, clearly pleased with the end effect. “Well, let’s go. I’ll need to hook Poppy up to the cart if we’re both going to get there.”

“No need. You can ride, I’ll fly.”

Her large, dark eyes blinked, “I forgot you have wings."

“It’s not surprising, you haven’t even seen them yet.”

“I guess.”

“Come on. I’ll help you get her saddled, and then we’ll go.”