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"Father," Leandro exclaimed happily as he walked into his home, then paused as he took in seeing his father hunched over form, head resting on their table. "Are you well?"
Andreaos shot up, blinking rapidly, and tried to smile reassuringly at his son, only it came out strained. "Fine, my boy."
"You look ill," Leandro observes then quickly rushes over to the far corner of their hut, pulling out the extra cot then going to his father's side. "Come, lie down."
Andreaos shakes his head, waving away his son. "No need to fret, Leandro. I've merely been out in the cold too long."
"I'll start a fresh fire," Leandro says, already heading towards their fireplace. "And prepare you some soup. Better yet I'll fetch some herbs and—"
"No," Andreaos interrupts. "There is no need, truly. It shall pass within before a fortnight, I assure you."
"Allow me to make a brew—"
"No, Leandro," Andreaos says, a little more forcefully this time. He brought his hand to his mouth, coughing into his fist. "You will spend all night brewing and miss the festival."
"I don't know if I—"
"Leandro, I may be an old man but if you even think of missing out on the festivities, make no mistake I will drag you out myself." He pauses, studying his son's face and his overgrown beard and says, "After I take a blade to your face, gods above, when had you done it last?"
Leandro huffs a laugh, turning away and beginning to slice up a load of vegetables. He hums, "I prefer it long. And Andrea did sew me a new tunic for the night. I would hate to waste her hard work."
"Yes, or you will no longer be able to eat another sweet tart till your wedding." Andreaos stares at his son who lowers his head, putting the chopped vegetables into a pot of boiling water along with a load of spices. "How did speaking with Rebekah fare?"
Leandro presses his lips together, "Well, I believe."
"But you still prefer to break the betrothal."
Leandro sucks in a breath, turning around and facing his father. "She is a lovely girl, Father and I-I can only hope to make her happy, but hopes don't become one's future often."
Andreaos' face softens as Leandro's gaze flickers to his boots. "Leandro, oh my boy, such a sweet heart you have. Any would be content to have you for a husband because I know in my heart like I know the sun shall rise on the morrow, and the moon will fall on the eve later, that you will cherish your beloved with all you have."
"I seem to be receiving many of these honeyed words as of late," Leandro murmurs, mildly amused but entirely touched, his heart swelling, cheeks flushing from hearing his father's prideful tone.
"You shall receive more at the festival in Andrea's tunic." Andreaos muses making Leandro roll his eyes and smile. Andreaos grins slyly, "Mayhaps you should make a lot of sweet tarts for the night. Just make certain you leave me one."
