The cheek kisses make Josef smile, a tiny and honest smile that would have brought a brighter blush on another man. “I may have heard a bit of your singing,” he admitted, knowing it also revealed about how long he might well have been following Bagoas.

Curling his other hand over to pat Bagoas’ a moment, fingers sliding against the other man’s as he began walking once more. “It is a perfect gift, and my wording was poor. I had not assumed you made the parasol as much of making use of such a perfect present. Though I admit, I find many gifts from you merely have to do with you,” he confessed, feeling as he sometimes did around Bagoas, a little goofy and a lot younger than he was.