He unwound the scarf, untied his cravat, and slid the gold oval underneath his shirt until it nestled against his heart. He frowned.
The locket’s return should warm him more than any scarf, than any cravat, and any amount of wool or cozy fire. Instead, he felt cold. Every gust of wind seemed icier than the one before, penetrating his great coat and his waistcoat and his linen shirt until it sliced all the way through his soul.
He curled his hands into fists and glared up at the relentless blue sky. Why hadn’t the return of the locket given him all the things he had hoped it would bring? He had his family back. He had his mother right next to his heart.
But the portrait’s return failed to vanquish the loneliness and emptiness and resentfulness. The locket bore a permanent place about his neck, but failed to fill the hole in his chest. The heirloom was a memento he would always cherish, but still just athing.
His breath shuddered. Now that he had the locket back, he realized the awful truth. A portrait was just paint, no matter how much he might like to believe otherwise. It didn’t erase the pain. His mother’s likeness could not replicate the real person. The happy family in the miniature would never exist again. The moment it represented was long gone, just like his parents.
His chest clenched. What was better, to cleave to a faded likeness or to keep loved ones close while one still had them? The answer was clear.
He wrapped the scarf Noelle had made him back around his neck and cut through the wind toward the castle. She was the one person he could count on. He was not yet ready for goodbye.
When he drew close, the aviary was still bursting at the seams. Townspeople spilled across its threshold and milled about the garden. Benjamin doubted Noelle was among the revelers. She was one of the few who hadn’t been looking forward to the aviary’s launch.
He circled around the bustling crowd and entered the vacant castle. Nothing but silence greeted him. Benjamin’s footfalls echoed as he raced up six flights of steps to Noelle’s chamber.
When she opened the door, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to. The heat of her mouth was the only warmth he required. Her embrace, more than enough protection from the cold. Nothing else mattered but holding her tight.
At last, he forced himself to lift his head. “May I come in?”
“Please do.” With a blush, she shut the door behind him and gestured toward a receiving area before the fire.
His nerves were far too raw for sitting down, but he followed her anyway. He was not ready to let her out of his sight.
Her eyes were full of questions. He no longer believed he had any answers.
“Silkridge…” she began.
“Benjamin,” he said firmly. “I’ve no wish to stand on formalities with you of all people.”
“What do you want?” she said quietly.
You.
Happiness.
A new life. A different world. One where they could be together. Anything but this.
He tossed his hat onto the closest chair and shoved a hand through his hair.
Noelle gazed up at him uncertainly from behind her spectacles. “I thought you went to fetch the locket.”
“I did.”
The words sounded as cold and hollow as the yawning cavern in his chest. Nothing about today had gone as planned. Now that he was here, what could he expect but more heartache?
Her fingertips brushed against the back of his hand. “What happened?”
“It’s what didn't happen,” he said at last. “I thought…”
Her gaze softened. “Start at the beginning.”
“I can’t remember the beginning,” he said bitterly. But he forced the words out anyway. “My mother died shortly after giving birth to me. That was my first Christmastide. The only one where I had a family. The last time my father celebrated anything at all.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. “You never had a Christmas.”
“Not one I’d wish to repeat. I lost my father during the same time of year, and just as suddenly.” He let out a shaky breath. “Everyone I have ever loved has been taken from me before I could say goodbye.”
