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The light of Minrathous mornings was different from Treviso's.
Before he was even fully awake, Lucanis always knew when he was in the city. There was a certain quality to waking here, a scratchy feeling of Spite catching against the thinness of the Veil combined with the pale light straining through the clouds.
It had come closer to feeling like home, lately.
Neve was already up by the time his eyes opened, but it hadn’t been long; the closeness of her morning routine meant she was in the bathroom, and the sheets next to him were warm. It wasn’t a moment until he heard the sound of running water. Perfect.
He slid from under the blankets and pulled on a house robe — as autumn approached, the mornings were drawing in to weather he was assured was mild, but was already cooler than most midwinter mornings in Antiva. Whenever he visited Tevinter for a job in years past, he slept in light armour layered in every alertness and magical protection enchantment the Crows could pile on.
He’d never quite felt the chill like this before. He didn’t dislike it.
Feet shoved in slippers, he made his way out of their bedroom and into the rest of the flat. The sitting area merged into the entrance and the kitchen in almost the same armspan, but he was getting used to working with it. Neve wouldn’t accept living in the kind of place that would afford them more space, anyway.
‘Too many rich people around,’ she always said, twisting some collar or cuff on his outfit askew every time. Her own gentle mockery.
As if on cue, she started singing badly in the bathroom. Lucanis smiled to himself and made his way to the most important part of their cupboard of a home.
Neve always took a long enough time in the bathroom that he was starting to suspect it was on purpose. Without fail, by the time she emerged, he was never just done with preparing the beans or boiling the water; no, when she trailed into the kitchen, it was just as he poured the coffee into their cups.
“Morning.” She took the cup from him and smiled, inhaling deeply. “Perfect.”
“It should be.” Or as close as he could get it in this climate; there was something in the damn air. Probably the damp.
Neve cracked another smile, this one a little more wry. “You’d say that. Sleep okay?”
“Did I?” He’d found it harder to gauge, lately, which he always hoped meant that Spite was behaving with his body when he was asleep. Unless there was some scheme involved, Neve would tell him if that impression was just Spite getting better at hiding the evidence.
“Sound as the bay,” she answered. Her palm glowed against the surface of her cup, and she took a sip; smiled again. It did more good than was probably healthy to see her smile.
“So, choppy and full of corpses?”
Neve snorted. “No, smartarse.”
Lucanis braved a sip of his own coffee. A little hot, but not impossible to taste. “I’m not being smart.”
Neve mimed flicking some of her drink at him, warmth suffusing her tone. “Sure you aren’t. Any plans for today?”
“I thought you had a… house call.” She could handle herself; she had many times before. Lucanis liked to join her anyway.
“I do,” she answered. “But it’ll be quick. He usually knows when it’s best to cough up what he knows. So, plans after?”
“Nothing set in stone.” There was always another lead with Neve’s current business — something else to follow up on, yet another person missing from Dock Town’s streets. He knew to keep his days free.
“Perfect.” Neve took another sip of her coffee, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Keep it free, then. I have dinner plans for us.”
“Oh?” Just as she withdrew, he turned his head and chased her lips for a proper kiss. She tasted of coffee.
When they both leaned back, Neve had another wry little smile on her face. “Trying to bribe the details out of me?”
“Perhaps.” He leaned forward for another kiss. “Is it working?”
“Messere Dellamorte!” Neve brought one hand to her heart. “You know I’m the only honourable detective this side of the city border. What would it do to my reputation if I accepted a bribe?”
Lucanis couldn’t help but smile. “No one would have to know.” When he leaned in again, Neve pressed a finger to his lips. “No?”
“You can find out later,” she promised. She drained the last of her coffee and rose, her kiss finding his forehead this time. “It’s a nice surprise, I promise.”
Once upon a time, words like those from a Tevinter mage would have had Lucanis signalling for backup and checking and re-checking all the protections on his gear. Now, he only smiled.
“Then I’m looking forward to it.” He trusted Neve, of course. Trusted the shakily stabilising city, and the idea that there could be a romantic dinner worth having here; and that tomorrow, he would rise to light rain against the windows of their little home and make coffee for them both all over again.