The library felt like a tomb. Mabon sat with his head in his hands while Rux paced and Urien stared into the fireplace.
“I called his coffee basic,” Mabon said again, as if repetition would somehow make it less catastrophic. “I saw it hurt him, and I still kept talking.”
“You panicked,” Urien said.
“I wounded our Treasure. I watched his smile disappear, and I caused it.”
Rux stopped pacing. “Didn’t you say the website claimed it would create attraction?”
“The website was written by idiots who don’t understand humans any better than we do.” Mabon’s dragon clawed at his chest, demanding he return to Sam and grovel until forgiven. “He looked so hurt.”
“You apologized,” Urien offered.
“I threw money at him and ran away.”
“That’s not ideal,” Rux admitted.
Mabon lifted his head. His heart stone sat cold and dark beneath his shirt, as if ashamed of its bearer’s behavior. “Humans are complicated.”
“Extraordinarily so.”
“Maybe we should just be ourselves?” Urien suggested, though his voice lacked conviction.
“But being ourselves doesn’t seem to be working either.” Mabon gestured helplessly. “I’m myself, and I insult him. Rux is himself and drinks enough coffee to kill a mortal. You’re yourself and accept pity cookies.”
“When you list it that way,” Rux said slowly, “we sound deranged.”
“We are deranged. We’re predators trying to court a human who deserves someone who knows how to speak to him without causing pain.”
The fire crackling broke the silence. Outside, wind moved through the garden, rustling leaves that Urien had been too distracted to tend properly for days.
“We need to understand his world better,” Urien said finally.
Mabon looked up. “What?”
“We keep approaching this from our perspective – dragon courtship combined with human dating advice.” Urien turned from the fire. “But we don’t actually know anything about Sam’s life - how he lives, what matters to him, and more importantly, what he needs.”
“He keeps his cottage tidy,” Rux offered. “Feeds his cat premium food. Waters the plants by his door every evening.”
“All we know is from watching him walk past windows,” Mabon said. “That’s not the same as understanding.”
“So we learn.” Urien’s expression hardened. “Properly. We see how he lives, what his days look like, and more importantly, what brings him joy.”
“You mean more surveillance,” Mabon said flatly.
“I mean observation.” Urien crossed his arms. “We’re approaching courtship blind, making guesses,fumbling in the dark, and hurting him in the process. If we understood his world - really understood it - we’d know how to fit into it.”
Rux stopped pacing. “You want to watch his routine?”
“I want to see his life. The parts we’re missing from brief encounters at a coffee shop.” Urien looked between them. “Then we’ll know how to court him properly.”
Mabon’s dragon stirred with approval. Knowledge was power.
“It’s creepy,” Mabon said.
“It’s practical.”
“We’re already leaving him gifts and following him home.”
