Thank you to the reviewers and readers. Perhaps some will observe, after this (exceptionally lengthy) chapter, that the Himemiya use distinctively ‘high speech.’ Chikane’s tone, in particular, shall be quite individual. This is because one attempted to follow her manner of communication in Kannazuki no Miko, which was marvellously proper—almost entirely Keigo (Japanese formal speech), in fact.

And why the long chapter? Because one is trying to move the story along. Whether this gets posted or not in two separate chapters little matters to one, as the end result is still that you eventually get to read it and see it as part of the same story. The chapters are merely arbitrary divisions, anyhow, which I regard as tools of convenience—and it would actually be more convenient for me to post this once instead of dividing it and repeating the upload process.

In other words (sigh)... I posted all of it in one fell swoop because I am lazy. My apologies.

To Gale (anon.): as I could not answer you in a private message, darling, I do so here. “Cunni or Cunnus” is a Latin profanity equivalent to the modern slang word / slur for the female genitalia. Replace the second “N” with a “T” and eliminate all letters coming afterwards, for the answer.

-

-

Vocabulaire:

1) augur – something of a diviner or interpreter of omens; there were official, state-sanctioned augurs as well as non-state ones

2) Bellerophon – mythical hero who attempted to ascend to the home of the gods, Olympus, atop the winged horse named Pegasus. He was cast down for this attempt.

3) Croesus; to be rich asCroesus – Lydian king reported in countless accounts, including those of Herodotus, to be fabulously wealthy.

4) denarii / denarius – the denarius is a Roman coin, often made of silver. It weighed about 3.5 grams, with each silver talent (see note below) being worth about 6 250 denarii. “Denarii” is the plural form.

5) Eureka! – Aristotle’s famous exclamation, after making his discovery on water displacement

6) impluvium – the shallow pool found in most Roman atriums, which was under the skylight.

7) meum mel – a choice endearment; translated as “my honey” or “my sweet”

8) Scylla and Charybdis – mythical monsters from Greek lore; the reference made here is to Charybdis, who was an underwater fiend that created whirlpools whenever she swallowed and fountains when she spat.

9) stibium – dark cosmetic used to rim the eyes (think of the Egyptian fashion); this is also what Natsuki regularly uses for hers

10) talent – the load a man can carry, around 25 kilograms.

-

-

Inter Nos

par ethnewinter

-

-

“The virago returns, though not in triumph... and how it must rankle her!”

“And shall the rest of us too, now that she has returned for retribution,” came the reply to these sardonic words. “I wonder how many senators took leave today as I have, in anticipation of her wrath.”

The woman on the other couch giggled quietly before answering.

“I really do think you should have attended today’s session, Chikane,” she said, lifting her head from the cushions upon which it reclined. Her legs moved under an ochre-hued dress that ended at her shins, the heel of one foot shown to be rubbing silkily against the other foot’s ankle. “Armitage is sure to be bawling out the House at the moment for not having granted her petition for that triumph—more excellent entertainment than any Grecian tragedy!”

Chikane sighed and crossed her own legs. Unlike her companion, however, she was seated upright on her couch, both feet over one side. Now she peered at the other with a lofty tilt of her chin, smirking faintly as she gave her reply.

“’More tragedy’ I can do without,” was her retort. “I have been doing her job for the past two months, listening to the senators’ daily harangues on nonsense and nothing. After all that entertainment... I dare to think myself deserving a day off from that madhouse which she has so kindly forced me to oversee with her untimely vacation in Africa province.”

“You’re taking an untimely vacation in abandonment of the others, yourself, right now. You should have gone.” A thoughtful sound. “Think of it as divine justice... Instead of delivering their harangues to you, someone delivers a harangue to them.”

“To me as well, were I there. I doubt myself exempt from being visited with that lecture.”

“Well... If there is good one thing you can say of dear old Armitage, it’s that she discriminates against no pair of ears.”

The raven-haired woman grinned, acknowledging the point with another tilt of her head. Her attention was diverted from the dialogue, however, by the sound of a familiar step coming in the room. She turned her upper body to look for the new arrival, already knowing who it was. Sundrenched as the atrium was, it seemed to her that an even brighter star had arrived to light it... and the thought showed plainly on her face. The woman with her watched the display of fondness in her gaze, privately entertained by the uncommon emotion on Chikane’s generally schooled visage.

“Darling,” Chikane was saying to the new arrival. One slender hand came up in welcome. “Have you finished painting? How is it?”

“I had to stop... I got tired, Chikane-chan,” the newcomer answered, coming to take the proffered hand. She bent to give the black-haired woman a quick kiss on the lips, her long golden tresses falling forward to kiss the raven ones near them. “But I’m halfway through... And I think it’s going well.”

She turned from Chikane to the other blonde in the room, who had risen from a supine position to greet her. They kissed each other on the cheeks before returning to their places: one on Chikane’s couch, and one on the couch just across.

“Urumi-chan, I’m so happy to see you.”

“I feel the same of you, of course... What are you painting this time, Himeko?” Urumi asked her cousin’s wife. “It wouldn’t happen to be Chikane, would it?”

Himeko coloured as Chikane laughed.

“How did you know that, Urumi-chan?” the urban praetor’s wife wondered. “That’s amazing...”

Urumi winked at her before answering.

“It was a calculated guess,” she explained. “Five of the seven times I asked this question since I’ve known you, your answer was ‘Chikane.’” Her brows lifted in conclusion. “Any gambler would say it was a safe speculation, that.”

“Oh.” The other blonde still looked quite embarrassed. “Oh, you’re right.”

“The subject, I guarantee you, is far from complaining,” Chikane reassured her mate. “There are few things better than having myself captured by your hand, Himeko.”

“In more ways than one,” Urumi added naughtily. “Or so I imagine.”

Himeko smiled shyly at them, failing to see her wife’s halfway-dour look to the younger woman.

“What were you talking about before I came in?” she asked, before catching herself. “Oh – I mean, if it’s important I can lea—”

“If it were that, there would only be more reason for you to stay,” Chikane said kindly. “Still, it was nothing of import. We were merely discussing our senior consul’s return to the city.”

“Oh... Haruka Armitage-san.”

“What do you think of it, Hime-chan?” asked Urumi. “Our outgoing consul’s homecoming?”

Himeko took some time before giving her answer.

“I think... I’m relieved... somehow,” she admitted with slight reluctance. The other two women gave her encouraging looks, seeing that she was afraid of expressing an opinion before them. Understandable. They were by far more familiar with the political enterprise than she was, having been brought up within the ruling class and the machine itself. Who was she but a local butcher’s daughter, a commoner and plebeian both... or, at least, had been until her marriage to the urban praetor. All the same, her misgivings were actually for naught as both her present listeners little cared about her humble roots. They looked at her expectantly now, waiting for her to elucidate.

“It’s good, I think... Because now we can really hold the elections, right, Chikane-chan?” she told them. “With Armitage-san here. They’re only five days away, too.”

She looked to her wife for a confirmation. After obtaining it, however, she turned back to Urumi with an unsure expression on her face.

“But... it doesn’t seem like she had a happy return, did she?” she asked, prompting the cousins to exchange looks. “What I mean is—people didn’t really celebrate her coming back. It doesn’t seem like they did. To me. I – I don’t know, really.”

Chikane smiled wistfully, letting her body fall gracefully to the right until she was lying on one side with a hand supporting her head, her torso just behind her sitting wife. The blonde’s lower back and rear were snuggled into the crook of her hip and thigh, and that contact warmed her more than the hearth nearby.

“You are quite right, darling,” she told Himeko, her left hand coming up to hold the woman’s waist. “They did not. Poor Haruka-san has had a somewhat frosty reception, I expect, ever since she arrived in Hime. As I told Urumi earlier, it is as well that I have chosen to sit out today’s session, her first since her return, for I expect that she shall get back at everyone for not having wined and dined her as she doubtless deems fit.”

Himeko looked down at her wife, confusion wrinkling her forehead.

“But Chikane-chan,” she said. “I thought you said she was one of those people who don’t like wine and feasts?”

“Who... oh. Stoics, you mean?”

“Yes, those.”

Urumi interjected with a scoff.

“Oh, Haruka Armitage is not a true Stoic, Hime-chan—whether she knows it or not,” she asserted. “It’s true she doesn’t take wine, but that might be because she can’t handle her liquor, for all we know. Besides that, she is not a real Stoic.”

Chikane smiled at her cousin. “Do you think so?”

“Decidedly. Real Stoics dislike pomp and splash.”

“Which she does.”

“Which she does,” the young woman agreed. “But only if they’re coming from someone else. She’s a great example for both things herself. Why, she makes the most bombastic splash whenever she jumps into anything.”

Chikane laughed at the disdainful statement.

“Bombastic... splash?” she repeated mirthfully. Urumi grinned at her.

“Yes, I know... it was a ridiculous image,” she admitted, holding her stomach with a giggle. “I’ll wager it would have great currency with the local parodists, though. Imagine Armitage leaping into the sea and dislodging Poseidon and his kingdom—now there’s a formidable woman!”

“The worst of it is that I can imagine it happening,” Chikane replied, tracing patterns idly on the back of her wife’s robe. Himeko squirmed a little, but did not move away. “Horrid picture.”

“She’s a veritable Leviathan, our senior and only consul,” Urumi followed. “Scylla and Charybdis both, though she spits out more than she actually swallows.”

“You truly are terrible,” her older cousin said, eyes averting to cast a grimace towards the shallow pool at the centre of their atrium. “Now I shall have to spend the rest of the day with images of our consul draining the impluvium by simply jumping in and displacing all the water.” She smiled languidly. “Would it be too much to imagine she would cry ‘Eureka’ instead of ‘Ecastor’?”

“And you call me terrible,” Urumi smirked, imagining the senior consul making that verbal gaffe all too easily. “Poor Armitage, always subjected to such farcical jests. It’s not even her fault that she makes a perfect caricature, really.”

Chikane was tucking her hair behind an ear, and sneaked a glance at Urumi as she replied.

“Perhaps,” was her allowance. “But we are all partly responsible for how people imagine us, so it is never proper to consider ourselves—or anyone, for that matter—purely victims of circumstance. Least of all those of us involved in the public enterprise.”

“Of course. Still, it’s primarily Armitage’s bad luck that when she contrives to look impressive, which she does in any enterprise, she is perceived instead as ludicrous.”

“You find her ludicrous, then.”

“You don’t?”

Chikane’s only response was a smile. Urumi rolled her eyes humorously at her cousin’s caution.

“It’s only my opinion, anyway,” she said to the couple. “And it doesn’t change the fact that there are people whose opinion of her is more flattering, as one would put it. Kikukawa-san, for instance, has always thought the world of her. Now there’s someone who surely attempted to wine and dine our consul when she returned.”

“Kikukawa-san shall be holding a dinner party soon, to celebrate Armitage-san’s return.”

“A dinner party in honour of a militant Stoic... Dreary thought. What would she serve... olives, dry bread, and gristle?”

“Haruka-san served something of the sort last I attended one of her dinner parties.”

“Heavily watered wine, too, I suppose?”

“Do you consider a cup of water to five drops of vintage, ‘heavily-watered’?”

“Oh dear. That atrocious?”

A stifled cry from Chikane’s wife drew their notice. The woman had one hand to her collarbone, her large lilac eyes shining.

“Parties...” she murmured, in her soft voice. “I’m sorry... I just remembered, Chikane-chan... It’s Shizuru-chan’s birthday today!”

Urumi nodded. “Ah... that’s true. I nearly forgot.”

“Well, it does not matter so much if you do,” the elder aristocrat replied. “She is too far away for our greetings to reach her ears.”

“Shouldn’t we make a sacrifice or something at a temple, though, for her sake?” Himeko asked. “It feels like we should do that, at least.”

“I have already taken care of it.”

“Oh, I see.” A brilliant smile. “Thank you, Chikane-chan. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

“That is perfectly all right... The gods shall surely send your regards to her as well,” was the gentle reply. “Your remembrance of it on your own, at the very least, should please her in my next missive. I do wonder what she has planned today. She shall have to feast her soldiers too, methinks, troublesome though it may be. ‘Tis only expected of a commander, and Shizuru herself is the kind to desire everyone participating in the celebrations, from common slave to commanding officer.”

There was a loud giggle from her cousin just then. Urumi flashed bright teeth giddily at her, both blue and brown eyes dancing.

“While we’re on the topic of Shizuru-san...” the younger woman began, in a tone indicating whatever she had to say next was of great interest. “I just heard the juiciest rumour a few days ago. A prime piece of tattle, cousin, which will have those immaculate eyebrows of yours climbing to Olympus itself, in defiance of Bellerophon’s fate when he was dashed down by the gods.”

Himeko giggled at the elaborate preamble as her wife eyed Urumi inquisitively.

“A rumour about Shizuru?” asked the head of the Himemiya.

“Oh, yes.”

The answer was practically dripping with merriment.

“Do illuminate us,” Chikane invited. Her relative replied without the slightest hesitation.

“Word among the recipients of letters from the North is that our ever-unattainable, yet ever-eligible bachelorette is now involved with a young woman of foreign citizenship and descent, whom she met while spearheading her present campaign in the Northern territories.”

The haughty eyebrows did climb—though not all the way to Olympus, as high as they could on the smooth brow.

“Shizuru?” was the incredulous answer. Urumi continued unheedingly.

“Certain foreign young woman described in the letters,” she intoned. “As being, quote, a delicious morsel of flesh... a tender piece of womanhood... a genuine goddess incarnate.”

Chikane flicked a glance at her now thoroughly blushing wife before returning her eyes to Urumi.

“Cousin...” she half-heartedly warned.

Still the pale blonde continued, her attractive face crossed by a mysterious smile.

“Certain ‘goddess incarnate’ also said, by the writers of this news, to be an officer from the Otomeian support army.”

Now Chikane sat up, her long body folding languidly from its stretch on the couch.

“Ecastor!” she uttered, looking disbelievingly at Urumi. “Now what madness have you heard, cousin? Perchance you are making it all up merely to bestir me?”

The blue-brown gaze met hers equably, twinkling as the younger woman replied.

“Whatever for?” she asked. “I wouldn’t even think of such a thing. Shizuru-san taking one of her subalterns as her lover, and a foreign subaltern, at that? It’s rather too imaginative, even for me!”

Himeko suppressed a laugh as the two patricians arched their eyebrows haughtily at each other.

“Anyway, it’s what I heard,” Urumi went on, shifting a little on the cushions. “And read, from letters shown to me.”

“By...?”

“By some of the people I meet at the crossroads colleges,” was her reply. “Wives or whatnot of the soldiers from Shizuru-san’s army. It’s supposedly the talk among the rankers over in the Northern barracks.”

“Do you think it worth crediting?”

“At first, not really,” Urumi confessed, playing with a flaxen lock. She twirled it around one finger as she mused aloud on the topic. “The people have always had a fascination for anything to do with characters like Shizuru-san, which often leads them to speculating a gold mine from a mere nugget when it comes to her life. I thought they might’ve exaggerated it from something like Shizuru-san teasing some young woman over there... and we all know how Shizuru-san can be quite impossible when it comes to teasing, on occasion. The common people who don’t know her that well might see more into it than we do, finding it more interesting to do so than otherwise.”

Chikane nodded, understanding what the younger woman was saying. As for her wife, she simply listened with a faint smile... after all, she had still been part of ‘the common people’ only months ago, before meeting Chikane.

“But then I talked to some others, like Miyabi Wara—she’s affianced to one of Shizuru-san’s legates, you know.” Urumi pursed her lips and squinted at the fresco opposite her. “They’re saying the same thing among the higher ranks. Word has it that Shizuru-san most probably involved, in the full meaning of the term, with that foreigner. Nothing confirmed, of course... but these are old letters, so something may well have happened to confirm it, by now. With so many writing much the same thing... I can’t help but wonder if this much smoke indicates an actual fire.”

She looked at her cousin, who was frowning at her feet. After a few more seconds of silence, the older woman finally spoke.

“Oh, fool that I am...” she said to them, touching slender fingers to her brow. “I remember it now... There was something of the sort from Suou’s last letters as well. I chose to disregard it, however, because I thought it made in jest.”

The other two gave their full attention to her.

“Suou said something? What did she say?” Urumi pressed.

“Nothing confirmed or definite either,” Chikane replied, lazy blue eyes narrowing in recollection. “It was more in the nature of an inference from observation. If I recall correctly, she said something to the effect that she thought Shizuru was growing extremely fond of her body... guard...” She paused and lifted her head. “Oh, E-castor...”

Himeko and Urumi stared at her. She returned their surprised looks.

“Her bodyguard?” Urumi echoed, finally. “Why didn’t I know about that titbit? The plot thickens!”

“Chikane-chan...” the urban praetor’s wife called. Chikane’s darkly-lashed eyes, the indigo irises ringed with the deep blue of a thundercloud, came to her immediately. “Is that true? Suou-chan said that?”

Chikane reached out for her wife’s hand, enclosing the smaller one with her own. Her lips pulled up into a smile.

“Yes, my darling,” she confirmed. “Suou has mentioned it to me before. But she has never written outright that Shizuru and that woman have an actual relationship of the kind we are imagining, either.”

“But, given how many people are mentioning it...” Urumi reminded. “You know where the probability leans.”

“Yes,” Chikane nodded. “There is a possibility of it being true.”

The younger patrician flopped onto her stomach, resting her face on crossed arms.

“Oh, isn’t it fascinating?” she positively sniggered, looking—in Chikane’s opinion—a perfect imp. “I half-wish I were over there with Suou now, so I could see it for myself. I wonder what she looks like, that foreigner.”

“I thought you said...” Himeko told her. “Or... they said... she was beautiful?”

“She would have to be, to hook as big a fish as Shizuru-san,” Urumi retorted merrily. “Ah, what wriggling little worm has played the bait to that catch? I would give so much to know.”

The urban praetor made a face.

“How is it that you make even a beautiful woman sound repugnant, Urumi?” she teased. “Metaphors of worms are hardly likely to quicken anyone’s pulse. It is just as well you are neither a painter nor a poet, else your talents make gruesome work of the goddess of pulchritude herself.”

“Ah, you know what I mean.” She sighed and fixed her cousin with a brown eye. “Tell me you’re as amazed as I am, Chikane, because I’m just stunned. Shizuru-san always seemed immune to Aphrodite’s charms, for me, though I admit I don’t know her like you do. I was even entertaining thoughts of her being a sworn celibate.”

Chikane sent her relative a tickled glance and shook her head. A few glossy locks draped over her face and her wife reached over to help her, pushing them away gently.

“I do not claim to know Shizuru perfectly, but I am quite certain she has taken no Vestal vows of chastity,” she said, after dropping a kiss onto Himeko’s hand. “All the same, we are yet uncertain of the actual nature of this alleged relation between her and that other woman.”

“But you did say earlier that it was likely. Supposing she has, in fact, taken a lover?”

“Supposing that, I am just as amazed as you are.” A faint smirk. “Barring the allegation that the woman is a subordinate officer, all of it is rather too normal a thing for ‘the general going on campaign,’ you see.”

“And she hardly ever does live up to ‘normal expectations,’ this particular general.” Urumi flashed a cheery smile, turning afterwards to her cousin’s wife. “And you, Hime-chan? This strikes you with a slap as it does us, I hope? What do you think of it?”

Himeko seemed surprised by the question, her expressive eyes going wide.

“If it’s true,” she told the two. “If it’s true... I’m very happy for Shi-chan.”

Chikane and Urumi smiled at her receptively as she went on.

“That is – it’s great news, isn’t it?” she asked them. “Shizuru-chan will have someone with her, finally... I think it would be good for her. She’s always so lonely.”

Her wife suddenly looked very curious.

“Lonely?”

-

-

Evening of that day in Argus, Shizuru’s birthday was celebrated—as Chikane had guessed, by all and sundry. While some of the more select personages of the province were invited to a dinner party at the governor’s palatial residence, the soldiers and lower-ranked members of the army were treated to their own share of the festivities at the barracks and inns, courtesy of the celebrant’s purse. There was wine and food enough for everyone, most of it provided through the efforts of the praefectus fabrum. Merry faces were everywhere that night, no stomach grumbling from emptiness and no gullet dry for lack of wine. Even the locals joined in, knowing that festive occasions were good opportunities for trotting out their businesses. Prostitutes paraded the streets and inns, decked out in their scarlet dresses and togas. Artists, dancers, and musicians were out as well, hoping to get at least one free drink for their troubles.

Argus was astir, and would keep stirring well into the early morning.

In the main reception hall of the governor’s residence, things were much the same as they were on the streets, though a little less raucous. Instead of rough wooden benches and tables, there were sumptuous couches for the guests to recline upon and long tables laden with food. These extended to the veranda and even as far as the garden, where a faint but noticeable slackening in the Northern winds had allowed benches to be set out for the guests who wished to do their mingling in the evening air.

Minstrels and other performers displayed their routines by torchlight, both inside and outside. Of prostitutes there were none, however, although a few guests did bring professional—and rather expensive—courtesans as their escorts to the evening. It was these people whom the celebrant’s chief primipilus and senior legate discussed as they waited for their friend to return, the woman having excused herself halfway through the revelry in order to visit the soldiers at their barracks and convey to them her gratitude for celebrating the occasion with her.

“Are you sure that one’s a courtesan, Chie?” Nao was saying, while eating from a platter of roast duck on the table beside her. “Because she sure doesn’t look like one. If you’d have asked me earlier, I would thought she was his wife. Too pretty for him, sure, but still classy enough to be his wife.”

Chie smiled at her, peering tranquilly at the couple on the veranda.

“That’s why they’re called courtesans and not prostitutes,” she said. “They’re expected to act like all of this is natural. The clients expect it, and it’s what they’re trained to do. Notice how she looks like she really is a member of the upper classes?”

“She’s so snooty she looks like she was born into it.”

“Some of them actually are... they’ve simply fallen into misfortune and so enter this line of work.” She flicked a sooty lock of hair from her forehead, glad she had just had her mane cut this morning. It had grown quite long and troublesome in the past months.

“It’s perfect for them, since they already know the way things work in these echelons,” she continued. “I’d wager that woman is probably one of those who are actually high-born but has had a fall in station. And, since the higher-classed the courtesan the higher the wage, she must be expensive.”

Nao reached out to take two goblets from a slave passing by with a tray. She handed one to her friend, who accepted it. “I do hear they cost a pretty penny. How much for that, say?”

“Thanks. And for that one, a night of accompaniment would probably cost around six to seven thousand denarii. That’s only accompaniment, mind you.”

“That’s a silver talent!”

“Whoever said elegance comes cheap?”

Nao frowned and took a deep swallow of wine, as if needing something to wash away the bitter taste of such a high price.

“I’ll take my regular ‘accompaniment’ from the streets, thank you,” she snorted. “Who are they kidding with seven thousand denarii? Bugger them.”

Chie looked sideways at her. “You’d love to, if you only had the money.”

“If I had the money, I wouldn’t waste it there. Women like that are probably snooty in bed too, anyway. They’d squeal at a little rough usage.”

The other woman grinned suddenly. “Actually, I beg to differ. Some of them wouldn’t squeal at all, from what I’ve heard.”

The redhead met her jovial eyes, tilting her head in order to make up for the difference in height. Chie looked away pointedly, suggesting to her a particular direction.

“Look over there,” the legate said, eyes fixed on a group of people watching some dancers. “Do you see the pair with their arms linked?”

Nao snorted. “Half the pairs in that group have their arms linked.”

“Well, it’s—oh, there! Suou-san is talking to one of them.” She paused suddenly to consider her fellow legate, a small smile at her lips. “And Himemiya’s little sister is looking quite fine, by the way. That colour flatters her.”

“She’ so fair most colours do. The couple you’re talking about is the blonde with the exotic, Arab-looking one?”

“Precisely. The exotic one is a courtesan, so gossip has it, who is popular for getting paid to give her clients, er, pretty rough usage.”

Nao let out an abrupt giggle. “So, you mean...”

“I mean that she’s getting paid to be the domina,” came the wicked reply. “It’s practically established that whoever she shows up with has a desire to be dominated in sexual activities. So goes it for that woman with her right now... who happens to a very rich, very influential member of the local trade council.”

The other woman held back her laughter.

“This is why it’s fun to be with you at these things, Harada,” she said, lifting her chalice in salute. “You know about that scandalous little underbelly the bigwigs all have, and you tell it better than any damned public announcer.”

Chie smiled at the dark compliment and raised her glass in response. As both of them sipped in toast, she ran her eye furtively over her friend’s attire.

Nao really does clean up very well, she thought, admiring the simple but flattering lines of the other’s gown. What she liked most about her friend’s dress was the colour: a gorgeously-shaded green that further accentuated the cherry-red locks of the centurion. Of jewellery Nao had chosen to wear little, only several heavy bracelets of jade and tiger-eye gems. Her only rouge was on her lips, which looked like harshly cut wounds on her fair skin. Overall, quite the temptress.

Tempted some of the guests she already has, the legate admitted, while gulping down her wine. A good number had approached her already and attempted to engage her in conversation, only to be rebuffed by a naturally coy smile that turned acerbic as soon as the primipilus got bored—which took all of forty seconds, at most. Chie understood; it was not that Nao did not know how to blend with high society but that she was simply not making an effort. She had none of her usual reasons to do so tonight, after all. She was not here on a mission, as a spy on recon, or as an infiltrating assassin. She was here to enjoy herself, and that meant she had no obligation to observe ‘hoity-toity’ social graces more than the bare minimum.

Anyway, I’m sure they wouldn’t bother her if they knew what she does for a living, Chie thought humorously, watching the dancers at the centre of the room. If they saw what that captive informant on the Mentulae killings looked like after she was done with him, they’d all give her a fine lot of space, I’d say.

“I didn’t expect you to come like that, though,” the woman in her thoughts said, interrupting Chie’s meditations. “I thought you’d wear a dress, like usual.”

The short-haired woman looked down at her attire, which consisted of a high-necked, fully-sleeved tunic of deep grey, worn over black trousers. Further slimming the lines of her clothing was the wide, golden sash around her waist, which also lent her—she hoped—a dashing appearance. She gave Nao a questioning look, mutely asking for the redhead’s opinion on it.

“It suits you,” was the centurion’s direct answer. “You’re a regular lady killer. See those ladies over there giving you the eye?”

Chie only sighed loudly, not bothering to look in the direction indicated.

“I’ll save the killing for battle, thanks,” she said smoothly. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“Jupiter, it’s not like you’re married.”

“Well, I have to start practicing now, if I want to be anytime soon.”

“Mmm... oh, looks like she’s finally back.”

There was a hubbub at the end of the hall, people clustered at the entrance, which indicated the celebrant had returned. Nao craned her head to get a glimpse, and let out a whistle. She nudged the peering Chie with an elbow.

“Looks like she changed from the formal toga she had on earlier.”

Chie nodded, thinking much the same thing as Nao’s admiring whistle had conveyed. Shizuru-san, as always, looks like a law unto herself. She scanned her friend quickly, appraising the woman’s appearance.

The young general had opted to wear a flame-coloured dress tonight, its sleeves held together at the shoulders with thin bands of golden thread. The gown was unusual in that its shade skated perilously close to the scarlet of a prostitute’s toga, and yet also contrived to give the appearance of being perfectly respectable. Her make-up too, was faultless—mere touches of stibium and carmine here and there, the former darkening seductively-hooded eyelids and the latter adding a touch of colour to white cheeks. The honeyed hair was also loose tonight, cascading over her shoulders and devoid of jewelled pins or any such adornments. Chie remembered that, even back in Hime, her friend had always gone against the fashion of adding ornaments to her hair on special occasions. Well, it did not matter. Her hair was of sufficient lustre to be left alone, anyway. Besides, letting it fall freely as it was now displayed the lovely wave it seemed to have naturally at the ends. Yes, it suited her. All of it.

“She looks magnificent, as expected,” she remarked to Nao, who nodded. “And I believe she’ll come to find us after all those fawners are done, so we should just stay put.”

The redhead was taking another goblet of wine from a passing slave, and asked her if she wanted another. She responded positively and yielded the empty chalice to the servant before he left.

“I’m just a tiny bit surprised,” Nao told her, as she sipped at her wine. “That she didn’t make the pup her escort for tonight. Thought she would, since it’s what everyone thought she’d do. Girl’d stick to her like a burr as usual, anyway, so she might as well.”

Chie looked up from her drink. “Why, isn’t Natsuki-san with her?”

“She is.” Nao tipped her chin towards the familiar dark figure, standing a little behind Shizuru. “But she’s in uniform.”

The senior legate furrowed her brows. “That is unexpected.”

“What do you think that means?”

“I have no idea.”

“Heh.” Nao frowned in thought and looked away, only to see another familiar dark figure walking nearby. She called out. “Sakaki!”

Argus’s commander of garrison turned her head, dark eyes lighting up in acknowledgement. She made her way over to them, the full, wide sleeves of her dress swinging at her sides.

“Good evening,” she said quietly, giving the pair a timid smile. Nao grinned back and introduced her to Chie, whom she had yet to meet. They exchanged pleasantries, after which the primipilus turned her attention to the other centurion’s dark blue gown.

“That’s a nice dress you have on, Sakaki,” she said, bringing a hint of pink to the woman’s cheeks. “But it makes you look much too tall. That’s just wrong.”

All three started laughing at her jest, Chie patting her shorter friend on the shoulder.

“You’d say that of anything she wears,” she said, before smiling up at the other woman. “She’s always finding fault with taller people, Sakaki-san.”

The woman smiled—down at her, Chie noted with faint surprise, seeing as Argus’s military commander had beaten her own notable height by a good few inches—and said nothing. Nao tipped her chin at the statuesque female.

“You just got here, didn’t you?” she asked. “I don’t think I saw your head poking out of the crowd earlier.”

Sakaki nodded her head—which would indeed have poked well out of the crowd. She then bowed slightly in giving her reply.

“I took the first two shifts,” she explained. “My rounds finished just now.”

“Ah, yes, you set a more regimented shift for the soldiers on duty tonight, as I recall,” Chie said to both centurions. “I can imagine it must’ve been bothersome, finding soldiers willing to forgo the oblivion of drunkenness just to keep alert for any trouble.”

“A little, but it’s fine,” Nao answered. “The more disciplined the pool, the easier we can assign duty, and our kids are pretty disciplined. So are the local ones, which would’ve been surprising if Sakaki wasn’t here.”

Chie gave a small grin. “What do you mean?”

“Sugiura’s not really known for military discipline,” came the glib reply. “She handles other things better... say, trade and that stuff, like she does now.”

Sakaki reacted to this with a smile that, though demure, was understanding. As for Chie, she simply looked at Nao with surprise.

“Wait,” she said. “You speak as though you know her. I didn’t know you knew Midori-san.”

The redhead smirked. “I do.”

“How? And from where?”

“Let’s just say an old job—bloody great story too,” she told the pair, who were listening to her keenly now. “I can’t forget it. I was on an intelligence-gathering mission at a party. Typical upper class people getting sloshed with wine, so of course, she was there. The woman gave me one look and latched onto me in a second, getting me drinks and getting too close like a damned lecher.”

She let them giggle, letting out one of her own before continuing.

“And at the end of the night, when I’d finished getting all the information I wanted on the target, who was one of the other partygoers, she was still sticking to me. She looked so dead drunk I was afraid I’d have to carry her home. I thought, Jupiter, I’ll be in trouble if she doesn’t get home safe and they saw her leaving with me. So the least I could do was get her into a carriage.”

She licked her lips and delivered the rest of the story.

“I called a carriage and was helping her into it when she just gave me this look. Oh, it wasn’t a wrecked look, though she was wrecked. Gave me the fucking fright when she said, really nicely, ‘So who do you work for and why do they want to know so much about him?’ Then, just like that, she gives me this sloppy kiss on the cheek and tells the carriage to start away. I was so surprised I even forgot to wipe the slobber off.” She started laughing. “And just when I thought she had to be one of the coolest drunks I’d ever met, I hear this groaning sound down the street and see her head poking out of the carriage, leaving a trail of vomit down the main avenue.”

Her two listeners were chortling by this time, shaking their heads. She mirrored the gesture and smirked.

“Ran into her a few times after that, on other jobs,” she said. “So I know how she is. That,”—she motioned to a cluster of merrymakers in the garden outside, a rather energetic Argus governor leading them—“is no surprise to me.”

“Midori-han does know how to enliven a gathering.”

Three pairs of eyes snapped back to the hall at the sound of the distinctive accent, surprised to find the celebrant coming to stand beside Chie. They saluted her and Sakaki expressed her birthday greetings as well. She returned all their salutations, then turned to her bodyguard.

“All right, Natsuki, I trust you find this suitably safe company?” she told the young woman. “I shall stay with them for now, so you may go. I am eager to see what you have picked, after long last.”

The Otomeian—who seemed to have made an effort to add some more of those minute golden clasps and braids into her mane tonight at the very least, Chie noted—nodded timidly. She turned on one heel and, with a flick of star-spangled hair, walked away. Shizuru smiled contentedly at the retreating figure before turning back to her present companions, only to find all of them looking with varying degrees of curiosity at her.

“Oh, that?” she said. “It is so Natsuki can change out of her uniform as well. She wanted to be sure she could leave me with trustworthy people first, before going off to dress.”

“I see,” Chie said, resisting the temptation to ask why they did not simply dress at the same time. “So she will be wearing a dress too, after all?”

“I think so, though I have yet to see what kind of dress it shall be.” The red eyes appeared to dance in the firelight. “I expect it shall be a most pleasant surprise. It is not every day you see female soldiers in a dress, and it is always a pleasant sight—as are you two, Nao-han, Sakaki-han.”

Sakaki pinked and mumbled something diffident, whereas Nao smirked and gave her thanks. Chie grinned at the near-polar reactions, just as Shizuru began to consider her.

“And Chie-han, of course, looks dashing as ever,” she said. “Rather unusual attire, but very fitting.”

Chie swept into an affected bow. “I return the same words to you, Shizuru-san. Unusual attire, but very fitting.”

“Why, thank you, Chie-han... the compliment is most welcome.” Shizuru inclined her head graciously. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied one of the slaves carrying the drinks. “Now then, shall we have some wine while I wait for my Natsuki? Do tell me all about what has happened while I was away from the party.”

-

-

“You think Shizuru is...” Chikane paused before continuing. “Lonely?”

Himeko coloured a little. Her hands fluttered in front of her as she strove to explain her words.

“Well, I thought...” she stuttered. “I don’t mean she looked sad or – or friendless – or something like that, Chikane-chan. I know Shi-chan always has a lot of friends and people around her, I just... Well, she just seemed so lonely. Or I thought she was. Maybe I’m wrong.”

Chikane eyed her wife appraisingly, secretly agreeing with the observation. She was in reality somewhat surprised that her wife had noticed the same thing she had, even while knowing the person in question for a far shorter time than she had—to say nothing of many others, would never say what Himeko had. How many would even think, let alone dare, to call Shizuru Fujino lonely? She wondered if she could even come up with enough names to make a scrap of a list.

She supposed it was because Shizuru never gave the impression of being miserable or even lonely, come to it, but always managed to impress upon those she met the notion that she was completely satisfied with both her state and her solitude. Still, to Chikane, who had known her all her life, she was hardly that. Chikane was familiar with the art of seeming content even when otherwise, being a past master in it as much as her crimson-eyed friend was now. She could tell when someone was merely pretending satisfaction.

And Shizuru does that even more than I, she thought to herself. Sometimes she even felt that there were appetites lurking within that friend of hers that would swallow up everything around her did she only give them loose rein. All the better for her to pretend satisfaction, then, for as long as she can... not merely for her sake but perhaps that of many others as well.

All too suddenly, a question presented itself to her: did that knowledge of her friend’s appetites quite possibly threaten her own ambitions?

She shook her head privately. Preposterous! The notion was brushed away.

“You may be correct,” she finally said, to her wife’s remark. “Surely no human being can be so deprived of that social relation philosophers have spoken of time and time again. It does you credit not only as a painter but a philosopher, love, that you are able to make that observation.” A graceful bow of her head. “Then again, perhaps all painters are philosophers.”

She was quite pleased to see her wife colour brightly at her compliment.

“I do agree,” Urumi put in just then, adding her usual touch of levity to the situation. “Now I am tempted to ask what she sees in you, cousin, when she makes you the subject for her painting. There’s an intriguing philosophy, I say.”

“One might say the same thing of you.”

Himeko spoke up suddenly.

“Oh, that reminds me, Urumi-chan,” she said with enthusiasm. “I was going to ask if you would mind sitting for one of my paintings someday. If you don’t mind, that is.”

Chikane smirked at her faintly surprised relative.

“Well, Urumi?” she said provocatively. “Afraid of being subjected to the same philosophical scrutiny?”

“On the contrary. Hime-chan is welcome to prise all the nasty demons she can from the mechanisms of my soul.”

“I hope not... else the sheer multitude of them keeps her at the task forever.”

“So that’s why she’s still painting you until now!”

“Ahh... Chikane-chan, Urumi-chan,” the urban praetor’s wife interjected meekly, looking slightly embarrassed once again as they turned to her. “I’m only a painter...”

At their amused smiles, she continued.

“I’m not an... an exorcist.”

The two patricians were silent for a second. Then, both burst into utter hilarity.

“Ah, my dear Himeko, how you find us out for what we are!” Chikane told her baffled-looking wife, dropping a lingering kiss on the woman’s temple. “You speak things so plainly it shames us when you have it exact in a quarter of the words we use.”

Urumi agreed with another peal of mirth. “Hime-chan, you are the most brilliant person in this room... My cousin is a lucky woman to have you, most definitely.”

The subject of their praise merely looked from one aristocrat to the other, looking as bewildered as before. She smiled uncertainly, not exactly knowing what she had done to deserve such speeches.

“Eh... but I didn’t say—“

She was prevented from continuing by a patter of feet on the marble floor, followed quickly by the appearance of their head steward. All three women looked at him, Chikane and Urumi still giving out final chuckles of mirth. He bowed.

“Domina, a messenger from Izumi-san is at the door. He claims urgency.”

Chikane nodded. “Show him in.”

“At once.” He executed a courteous, though still-dignified bow. “Ladies.”

Watching his figure leave the corridor, Urumi made a remark.

“He’s somewhat grand, for a steward, isn’t he?” she asked her cousin, who raised an eyebrow. “Despite his looks, I mean, for he seems weathered in age. I meant that there’s an old-fashioned gravity to him that I quite like, though I can’t exactly explain why I get that impression from him.”

“I know what you mean,” Chikane replied. “It is what convinced me to take him as my steward, in the first place. When Anthenor, my old steward, died of a stroke, I had to search a good while before I finally found someone capable enough to take his place. This one does it rather well.” She smiled meaningfully. “Why, even Otoha deems him acceptable, and that says a great deal of him.”

“He lends the role dignity without sacrificing functionality, I agree, from what I’ve seen. How do you find him, Hime-chan?”

“Oh, I like him,” that woman replied. “He can look... serious... sometimes, but he’s actually a nice man.” At their questioning looks, she explained: “He always puts freshly-cut flowers in my studio whenever I go there, even if I never ask for it.”

“I was not aware he did that of his own volition,” Chikane said, knowing her wife’s penchant for fresh blossoms. “I shall commend him.”

“Mm,” Urumi said. “Good stewards are nearly impossible to find.”

They ceased their discussion when they heard someone approaching from the corridor once again. After a few more footsteps, a man with whom Chikane was familiar appeared at the archway. She rose from her seat and excused herself.

“I wonder what it is now,” Urumi told Himeko, as they watched the urban praetor go to meet the messenger awaiting her. “I hope it isn’t anything ghastly like Armitage having slaughtered the rest of Senate by bleeding out their ears with the force of her bawls alone.”

Himeko giggled. “You don’t like her, do you, Urumi-chan?”

The other woman’s lashes fluttered with surprise.

“Did I make you think so, Himeko, dear?” she asked. “No, actually, I quite like her. She’s definitely more entertaining than half of the people in the House put together, and that counts for something.”

“Urumi-chan does like entertainment more than anything else, after all,” the other blonde teased gently, at which Urumi smiled.

“Boredom is my greatest enemy,” she replied. “It leaves me dreadfully melancholic, you see, and that is something I would rather not be if I can help it.” She draped the back of her hand against her forehead, pretending dismay. “Alas! Not so many are willing to offer me entertainment that I can avoid being gloomy altogether.”

“I wouldn’t like you to be sad either,” Himeko suddenly said, with such sincerity it made the other pause. “If I can be entertaining to you, Urumi-chan, just tell me how.”

Urumi answered with a heartfelt smile after a good few seconds.

“You can be your usual sweet self, Hime-chan,” she said. “That would amuse me more than anything else.”

They were smiling at each other when Chikane’s voice sounded at the archway, calling urgently for a quill and paper. They looked at her as she strode towards them, both caught off guard by the solemnity of her expression.

“She didn’t tell me anything about this,” they heard her mutter, as she approached. “It may only be the delay... but something seems off about it.”

“What’s the matter?” Urumi asked, attention piqued. Chikane turned a contemplative frown to the younger woman, showing that whatever it was had her so troubled she could barely articulate it just yet. Himeko peered timidly at her wife.

“Are you all right, Chikane-chan?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

Chikane looked at her spouse, worry written all over her brow.

“My darling...” she murmured. “That is precisely what I would like to know.”

-

-

“I wonder if something’s wrong over there,” Nao was saying to the other women. “What’s the hubbub? I can’t see with all those people.”

Chie shrugged, making no effort to rise from her relaxed position. Like the rest of the company, she was reclined on a soft, lushly-padded couch.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” she said, turning back to the others. “Anyway, returning to our topic, I’d say I prefer his later plays. They have more economy of language.”

“Indeed,” said Shizuru, who had not stirred from her seat either. “I suppose that...that... ah.”

The rest peered at her curiously, wondering what had caused her odd—and very rare—stutter. The wine-coloured eyes did not meet any of theirs, however, being fixed on some point at the other end of the room. They turned in unison to follow her line of sight, just as she let out a sound evocative of surprise.

And awe.

“Ara.”

Chie said almost the same thing. “Oh... my.”

There was a moment’s silence after these two expressions. Then came the flurry of questions and remarks, half of them directed to the Himean general.

“Oh, Fujino-san, isn’t that your attendant?!”

“Would you look at that...”

“Oh, what a clever dress—did you give it to her, perhaps?”

“By Jupiter, she’s a sight!”

She is indeed that, Shizuru was telling herself, rising gracefully from her seat in an unintentional movement. Oh, dear gods, Natsuki...

Natsuki, just then, finally made her way through the people peering at and attempting to talk to her, her searchlight gaze immediately alighting on her charge’s crimson-clad figure. She began to step swiftly in that direction, neither pausing to greet nor to meet the eyes of any she met along the way. Shizuru stared at her, not knowing she herself was now completely out of her couch and standing beside it.

So she went with something evocative of her nation’s fashion, the stunned general was thinking, as she spanned the young woman top to toe. Or so I think, from my memories of Otomeia. Oh, Natsuki, Natsuki, my little rebel, what have you done now? Everyone in the room is looking at you. Is this why you wanted us to change into our dresses separately, earlier? To cause this stir?

She stared smoulderingly at the cloth draped almost carelessly on her bodyguard: a many-layered affair of white material so fine it was diaphanous... and indeed, she could see hints of flesh where the layers thinned out, particularly from mid-thigh down to the hem—at which point the sheer cloth appeared almost tattered, trailing in filmy shreds that curled around the girl’s legs. They looked like smoke. Or perhaps they were smoke, lit by a blazing pair of crimson eyes.

Shizuru could feel her heartbeat, somehow louder than the music coming from the performers, and it seemed to stoke up the flame inside her as she continued to stare at the female approaching. Her eyes raked over the bare neck, travelling down the singular, sleeve-like drapes that hung from the dress’s join at the shoulders in a loose festoon of white. These fluttered behind the girl’s arms, anchored at the other end by being wrapped at the wrists... beyond which body part, incidentally, were bandage-less hands. That in itself was excellent. It reminded her of the occasions when the girl would put away those linen strips—often when they bathed together—and touched her with skin and skin alone.

And may I be damned if I that skin does not touch mine tonight.

She barely even noticed Natsuki’s actual arrival, too caught up in fantasies of the relentless beauty underneath that fragile, seemingly about-to-fall-apart dress. It took the younger woman’s voice to wake her from her heavy-lidded stupor.

“I am back.”

She awoke at the sudden proximity of the sound and then realised that only a foot separated them now. The younger woman nodded to her, bowing her head slightly to the people around them before looking away and assuming her usual sulky attitude. The older woman stared at her, then regained herself by taking a deep breath, glad that the hiss of air was masked by the music.

One has to thank Fortune for the small mercies.

“Ah, Natsuki, welcome back...” she started, swiftly finding composure. She was aware that all those at and around her little group of couches were watching with great interest, having seen her abnormal lapse in self-possession moments ago—an incident compounded by the further anomaly of her bodyguard’s speaking words before them. Still, it was the thought of her own slip that was at the fore of her mind, and she now cursed herself silently for her thoughtlessness. What had she been thinking, letting herself fall into fantasies while surrounded by so many people?

“If I recall, you hardly ate earlier,” she finally said, her voice smooth again. “Ladies and gentlemen, do excuse us a moment as I direct Natsuki to the tables. Shame on me, after all, if I let the officer who saved my life in battle perish of hunger at my celebration, which is only possible due to the heroism she displayed that day.”

As expected, that broke loose the chains on their mouths. Another round of queries was directed towards her—and even some to Natsuki, who looked faintly taken aback by the attention.

“She saved your life, Fujino-san?”

“How did it happen?”

“Where and when was this?”

Shizuru smiled and looked at her two subordinates, who had been watching all of this without even moving in their seats. They smiled back at her.

“Chie-han was there,” Shizuru told the gathering crowd, which was impatient for a story. “She is a much better narrator than I, and shall doubtless render it more lifelike than I possibly could. If she agrees, perhaps you may hear the tale from her?”

“If you put it that way... I’d be happy to,” Chie said, with a show of teeth. “And maybe afterwards, Nao here can tell you more about our exploits with Shizuru-san, as she’s served under her in some of the most fantastic battles ever.”

Nao smirked. “I’d love to. Maybe I can tell them about the time Shizuru-san and I snuck into an enemy camp one night and made off with an enemy officer’s head.”

Shizuru sent both of her friends another smile, gratitude spoken silently by her eyes. They nodded, even as the crowd murmured in excitement.

“Well then, I leave you to the story-telling,” she said, in farewell. “Methinks there are a few people I have yet to speak with, anyway, and needs must or I will be thought an ill host indeed.”

Thus excusing herself and her companion, she left the crowd to Chie and Nao’s tale-telling devices, gratified to see that more people were being drawn to the group she had just left. She hoped this would mean less people would interrupt her and Natsuki, whom she swiftly led to a shadowed and hence unfrequented table at a corner of the hall. The girl followed her willingly, saying nothing about her lapse earlier.

Once they were alone at the table and no people were within hearing range, Shizuru leaned towards her bodyguard and snuck a quick kiss on one ear before speaking.

“Cruel child,” she said in a deep, husky tone. “Was this your intention? Did you want to surprise me with your appearance now, in front of all these people, when I cannot have you as I would like? You are turning out to be quite the tease, my dear Natsuki.”

The other woman flushed so darkly it was visible even in the dim light.

“N-no...” she replied. “That wasn’t...”

“Really?”

“Um... no.”

“But you did want to please me with your attire, I hope?”

She elicited a quick, jerky nod.

“You have succeeded—though only in part,” she followed. Upon seeing the other’s puzzlement, she went on. “Your appearance pleases me very much, Natsuki. But I expect it... and you... to please me much more, later, when you take me to that place where you say you left your present. You did say you prepared it just for the two of us.”

Not giving the younger woman time to articulate her protests beyond choking, she turned towards the food before them and picked out a peeled prawn, its flesh as pink as her bodyguard’s cheeks.

“Try this,” she said, lifting it by the tail and delivering it to the other woman’s mouth. Natsuki stared at her bewilderedly before parting her lips and accepting the morsel. “How is it?”

She took another one from the platter before her and popped it into her own mouth, watching her companion chewing carefully. They swallowed at around the same time.

“Good,” Natsuki pronounced, licking her lips. Shizuru nodded and handed her goblet to her.

“Drink from it,” she instructed.

They continued to eat this way, with the older woman selecting pieces of food for both her and her young lover. Every now and then someone would approach them, making conversation with Shizuru and complimenting her attire—and without words, that of her bodyguard—or conveying their greetings for the general’s birthday. Each one Shizuru spoke to with customary grace, thanking them for their presence at her celebration. There were some to whom she would rather not have spoken politely, however, and it was an hour or so later, after having just spoken to one such guest, that she disclosed her discomfort and the reason for it to Natsuki.

“I am almost beginning to think I should not have made you wear a dress, after all,” she said, with the barest trace of moodiness deepening her trademark lilt. “If I had a denarius for every lout who has stared at you with lover’s eyes since you arrived, I would be rich as Croesus by now.”

Natsuki looked at her.

“Are you not ‘rich as Croesus’?”

The older woman sighed heavily at the unexpected question.

“Yes,” she said in defeat. “Yes, I am. Even so, you take my point.”

She washed her hands in a bronze basin, drying them afterwards on the towel offered by a servant who had rushed over as soon as he saw her dip into the rinsing water. Once finished, she began to walk towards the far end of the room, where the open doors showed the rest of the partygoers in the terrace and spilling into the gardens. Natsuki walked close to her, their fingers brushing at their sides.

“You know I dislike it when they stare at you that way,” Shizuru murmured to the younger woman, even while pretending to wave and smile at the people they passed. “They look at you like dogs in heat, Natsuki.”

“You too.”

She swivelled her head to the right, finding only the girl’s profile. She sighed and turned her attention back to the front.

Sometimes, she was thinking wryly, Natsuki really does touch the point with a needle.

“Yes, I admit I do that too,” she said to her bodyguard, afterwards. “But that is differ—“

“No, not you,” Natsuki interrupted. She almost sounded impatient. “Not you doing it. Them to you.”

The fair brows went up; Shizuru looked genuinely confused for a moment.

“What do you mean, them to me?” she asked, before apprehending the girl’s meaning rather belatedly. She quirked her lips. “Oh, you mean they have been looking at me in the same way?”

Natsuki still did not look at her.

“Some...” she mumbled. “No... Many people.”

The older woman stopped to exchange salutations with a few more guests before turning back to her companion.

“Is that so?” she prodded, wondering that she had not noticed. Of course she was used to receiving such heated attention as well, and could usually spot it coming all the way across a room, but it seemed her senses of observation had been dulled today. Or rather, not really ‘dulled.’ After all, she had not failed to notice the attention being given to Natsuki, no matter how subtly manifested it was. Perhaps she had concentrated so much on it that she had managed to ignore the looks for her?

“Yes,” Natsuki was saying, while lifting a hand to flick black hair over her shoulder. Shizuru watched the feminine gesture, a little amused by its haughty execution. “They do.”

“I see,” the older woman replied. “Tell me, how do you feel about that?”

The frosty emerald eyes were softened by a melting uncertainty. “Uh... hm...”

“Do you dislike it, when they look at me that way?”

“I—I don’t—“

“Or do you not mind?” Shizuru knew she was being wicked now, fishing so obviously for a declaration from the girl. Still, why not? It was her day, after all, and she would love to hear a confession of possessiveness from her young lover. She herself had expressed it many times to the younger woman, yet the latter had yet to do so to her. Time to balance the scales. “Are you going to say you do not care at all when they give me such attentions, Natsuki? Tell me now.”

They were standing in gloom, Shizuru having led the two of them to a part of the wall where a dark alcove was formed by a recessed corner and a large pillar. She faced the younger woman and held the green eyes intensely with her own, which reflected the red glow of the torches beyond them.

“So, Natsuki?” she asked again. “How does it make you feel?”

The pale face stared up at her, half in shadow and half in the light. So much like everything else about her. How fitting. Well, it was time to see if she could shed a little more light on the darker half.

“So it does not bother you as it bothers me?”

She watched the pale throat move as the girl swallowed, just before the pink lips parted to give her an answer.

“I—“

“Oh, Shizuru-san, there you are. We’ve been looking for you.”

Sighing inwardly at the interruption, Shizuru gave Natsuki another expectant look before turning around to face the owner of the voice which had intruded upon her little interrogation.

“Takumi-han,” she said, affecting a pleasant smile. “Akira-han as well. You are enjoying yourselves, I hope.”

“We wanted to wish you a happy birthday formally during the party, Shizuru-san,” Takumi said, after returning the greeting. “We weren’t able to do that earlier... I hope you’ll like our present when you see it later, by the way. We already put it in your servants’ care, like the others.”

Shizuru conveyed her gratitude in a grin. “I am sure I shall appreciate it as much as I appreciate your work for tonight, Takumi-han. And yours as well, Akira-han, for I do not doubt you assisted him in a significant way. Everything has turned out quite perfectly.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” The young man swivelled on his heel to look behind him. “And everyone seems to be enjoying the festivities. Things are pretty lively.”

Both Himean females suppressed smirks at his innocently-voiced observation. Things were indeed becoming ‘pretty lively,’ considering that a good many of the guests were already flush with wine. Among these people was the governor herself, conspicuous by her efforts to rouse the musicians to louder playing and attempts to get more people on their feet to dance with her. Said woman spun around in wild circles with another, patently inebriated guest before suddenly looking their way. Her eyes seemed to light up forebodingly, even from a distance.

“Oh, damn it,” Shizuru was amused to hear Akira say. The handsome young woman frowned at her mate. “She’s seen us.”

“Expecting trouble?” Shizuru asked. Takumi answered her with a helpless smile.

“Sugiura-san’s been after Akira and me all night, asking the two of us to dance,” he explained. “And Akira doesn’t feel like it.”

“Ah.” Shizuru chuckled at Akira’s expression, which could only be described as dismayed. She peered beyond them to see that the governor was indeed approaching, though rather drunkenly. It would be a while before she reached them. “In that case, allow me to begin paying you back for your help, Takumi-han.”

The two Himeans looked up at her. “You mean...?”

“Flee,” she said simply. “I shall prevent her from following you.”

Eyes sparkling with thankfulness, the pair saluted her and quickly ran off, as per her directive. She chuckled as she watched them make their escape, folding her arms with hands holding her sides.

“Un... Shizuru.”

Natsuki’s voice drew her attention and she replied. “Yes, Natsuki?”

“What if she makes us dance?”

The fear in the younger woman’s voice made her turn her head, and she had to suppress a laugh at the sight of her lover’s face. Natsuki looked truly horrified.

“You do not want to dance?” she teased gently. The girl shook her head. “But it might be rather amusing—“

“No,” Natsuki said, her voice beseeching. “No, Shizuru.”

“Hmm... all right...” A thought occurred to her suddenly and she decided to run with it. “Listen to me... I have an idea. If we stay here any longer, the chances are that we shall be made to dance sooner or later. If not together, then with other people—and I would kill anyone if they tried to dance with you, so it might not be a good idea to stay here that long.”

Natsuki nodded, still too preoccupied with fears of public dancing to notice the older woman’s jealous statement. Shizuru continued.

“If you wish, we can leave now and go to the place where you said you wanted to bring me.” She saw the governor staggering nearer towards them and began to come up with a plan. “If it is fine with you, we can go a little earlier than planned, and leave everyone else here. They shall be too drunk soon, anyway, to notice my disappearance. Would you like that? Yes or no?”

Natsuki nodded again, though more swiftly. “Yes.”

“Your horse is already saddled outside, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Fetch it and meet me at the end of that path.” She pointed to a lane flanked by tall, snow-covered shrubs trimmed to create a tidy wall. It was in shadow, just beyond the area touched by torchlight. “Quickly.”

Natsuki nodded a final time, her green eyes lingering for an instant on the older woman before she turned away. She slipped away, passing swiftly through both people and shadows. When Shizuru could no longer see the trailing white shreds of the girl’s clothing, she returned her gaze to the direction from which the governor had been approaching, only to take a swift step back at the onslaught of alcohol-scented air hitting her squarely in the face. She held back a wince.

“Midori-han.”

Her greeting was returned in a medley of slurred vowels and consonants.

“He-e-ey there, Shizuru...” Midori smiled happily at her. “Excellent party. Excellent, I say. Excellent dress, and excellent partner. Wait. Where’s your girl?”

“She had to arrange something,” Shizuru replied easily, taking the elder woman’s arm and leading her to the outskirts, away from the light. “Ah, Midori-han, tell me, could you possibly help us? Natsuki and I need a favour. I would be most grateful if you lent us your aid... in spirit of comradeship.”

The older woman’s ears seemed to prick up at this, her unfocused eyes sharpening. She lifted an arm to slap Shizuru heavily on the back. The latter was caught slightly off guard at the abrupt gesture and felt her muscles flexing instinctively under her dress at the blow. She relaxed quickly, however, and returned the other’s sloppy grin with a composed one.

“What d’you want? No—don’t say it, let me guess,” Midori was sniggering to her. “Want to get out of here, don’t you?”

“You’ve found me out, of course,” Shizuru said, with a practiced sigh. “The difficulty is that it would be eminently difficult to do so, given that this is my party.”

“To Dis with the party!” Midori shrugged off her arm and turned to face her, holding her upper arms. “Go if you want t’go, my girl! You deserve it already, for giving us this bash. Have a bash of your own, eh?”

She laughed at her own words, doubling over for a moment. Shizuru watched her with a patient smile.

“So,” the governor finally said, when she was done with her laughter. “You want me to take care of it while you go cavort with your girl? Don’t blame you. Delectable... and that dress! Love to cavort with ‘er too, if you weren’t in the way. I would, you weren’t.”

Shizuru chuckled. “Thank you for stepping aside for my sake, then.”

“We young ‘uns must stick together,” was the comical reply. “Right. Go, go already. I’ll keep them happy and drunk. Go elope with your woman.”

“Not precisely eloping,” Shizuru said, with a giggle. “Thank you ever so much, Midori-han... I promise I shall return the favour one day.”

“Yes, yes.” The governor was already returning to the party in a surprisingly quick stagger. “Now go!”

“Oh, and please be so kind as to inform Chie-han and Nao-han of where I have gone, as well!”

“Will do!”

Turning about, Shizuru strode towards the garden path where Natsuki was supposed to meet her, excitement thrumming in her veins. Upon arrival, she waited beside an oak tree, her arms at her sides. Beginning to shiver in a darkness that was devoid of light, she realised what she had overlooked.

My cloak.

She chuckled scornfully at herself, unable to believe she had been so remiss as to forget that necessity of wintertime. Perhaps Natsuki was right, after all, in asking whether she was reckless? Ah, what was the matter with her?

The galloping sound of hooves sounded and she looked up eagerly, trying to see through the shadows.

Good girl... she returned as quickly as possible.

She waited keenly for the sounds to come nearer, squinting at the darkness that was one end of the path. So intently did she peer into them that she nearly gave a start when what she had been waiting for appeared, the familiar black stallion exploding from the gloom as though birthed by it. But what truly took her breath away was the sight on top of the charger: Natsuki astride the beast with both legs bare from the upper thigh, the shred-like strips of her dress soaring behind her. A black cloak was thrown around her shoulders, held together by a gold cord at the neck. Smoke flew from both her mouth and that of her steed, and this, with everything else, made the entrance all the more magnificent.

Or so it seemed, as far as Shizuru was concerned.

“Shizuru!” the girl whispered loudly, once in front of her. The stallion pawed anxiously at the snow-tracked ground, its haunches rippling with muscle. “We will go?”

“Yes.”

The older woman went to the beast’s side. She pulled up her dress—thanking the gods it was fairly loose—and Natsuki removed one foot from a stirrup, understanding that she was about to come astride the horse. Before the girl could reach out to help her, though, Shizuru had already placed her foot on the free stirrup and swung herself atop the animal’s back, to Natsuki’s bemusement. The older woman smirked at her companion.

“I do ride often too, you know.”

Natsuki smiled. Suddenly reaching into a pack tied to the saddle, she produced a large bolt of cloth which Shizuru recognised in an instant.

“My cloak,” she said in amazement. “You have my cloak?”

Natsuki nodded and handed it to her, motioning that she should put it on. She did so, securing it with the clasp.

“Thank you, Natsuki.” A short pause, where she settled herself more securely behind the younger woman. She held onto her with both arms. “Let us go.”

There was the brief slide of the girl’s thighs against hers as Natsuki dug her heels into the animal’s ribs, spurring it into a thundering gallop. Shizuru felt her cloak fly out behind her as they rode away. She felt her face sting with the cold prickle of wind rushing at it, but found that enjoyable. What she told Natsuki was true: she did use to ride often, when she had been younger.

Efficiently clearing the maze known as the gubernatorial gardens, they reached the gates of the residence, where several surprised—and drinking—sentries saluted them. After obtaining their stuttered permission to pass, she felt the girl urge her steed again into a mad dash that seemed to take them all the way to the ends of the city. For a while, Shizuru simply held on quietly and accustomed her body to the easy, shifting motions of the galloping horse, rocking instinctively with the rhythm. When she saw that they were passing the gates of the city itself, however, she found herself wondering where Natsuki was taking her, almost tempted to stop the girl and ask. Eventually, she did ask.

“Where are we going?” she called, over the rushing wind. Natsuki did not even turn her head as she called back.

“The lake!”

Oh... yes... there is a lake in the province, now that I think about it. Shizuru wondered how she could have forgotten that. And how could Natsuki have found out about it, for that matter? She shut her eyes as she considered the matter. The lake was a strange destination. Surely the girl was of sufficient sensibility not to hazard swimming there in this season? But what else would one do at a lake?

Fishing, perhaps, her mind supplied humorously. But I rather doubt she plans to do that.

It seemed as though it had only been minutes after thinking this that the horse slowed to a trot. She opened her eyes, finding a blue-black sky and leafy branches overhead. They were on the path towards the lake, their steed’s hoof-beats the only sounds around them. Doing a series of calculations, she estimated that they had been riding for nearly an hour by now, judging from the ground covered. How uncanny. She had not even noticed it.

“We are nearby, are we not?”

This time, the girl turned her head. “Yes.”

“Wonderful.” She wrapped her hands more securely around the younger female’s middle, fully appreciating the thinness of the girl’s dress. She could actually feel each fine ripple in her fellow rider’s abdomen as it moved. The taut muscles seemed to respond to her fingers, contracting slightly after every press or stroke. She occupied herself with this playful study of the other woman’s musculature for a while, halting only when Natsuki reined in her stallion and announced that they had arrived.

“Ah, yes... the lake.”

They slipped off the horse, one after the other. Shizuru stood gazing at their surroundings for a few moments. They stood on a relatively unforested clearing, replete with small shrubs and plants, as well as a few odd trees. All of these had a fine dusting of snow, the white powder glowing blue in the darkness. About a hundred metres away was the lake itself, its water black in the shade, and its surface chased with silver flecks. All around were the woods, dark and chilled to an austere beauty.

As she admired the dusky atmosphere, Natsuki led her stamping horse away, into a small shed at the end of the clearing that appeared to be for stabling purposes. Shizuru’s brows quirked with interest at the structure, wondering why it should be here. What truly caught her attention, however, was the edifice next to it.

“Natsuki!”

The girl had disappeared into the shed with her stallion, and now reappeared in the lit doorway. Her dress showed nearly transparent on her from the light, and Shizuru felt a rush of heat warm her cheeks at the provocative vision.

“Where are we? Does anyone live here?”

She motioned to the house, in particular. Natsuki shook her head, and Shizuru went to her.

“Does anyone own these?” she asked, once she was near enough to speak at normal volume. She stood at the doorway of the shed, taking in the old, salt-encrusted wood that was the mark of all aged Argus buildings. Weathered as the outside was, the inside seemed fairly well-kept, though. Studying the neat interior of the stable, she watched Natsuki covering her horse with a heavy blanket as it rested on some hay. “I suppose you prepared the hay as well?”

Natsuki nodded, before finally rising and facing her. Some bits of straw clung to the shredded bottom of her gown, and Shizuru found herself wanting to pick them out carefully.

“A man lived in the house,” the Otomeian was saying. “Long ago. He went somewhere and left. I asked.”

Shizuru smiled, leaning against the doorframe. She could feel the rough wood even through her thick cloak.

“I see,” she replied.

“The man who uses it... now... hires it out,” Natsuki continued. “I hired it. For your birthday.”

She suddenly flushed after saying this and covered it up by returning her attention to the reclining horse. Shizuru said nothing, content with simply watching.

A while later, she finally spoke.

“Thank you, Natsuki,” she said softly, reaching out with one hand. The other woman came nearer, willingly letting herself be enveloped in the warm embrace. She burrowed gently into Shizuru’s neck. “I’m very glad I can be with you tonight. Was this my birthday present?”

Shizuru was startled when the dark head jerked backwards, the younger woman looking up to meet her eyes.

“No,” Natsuki denied. “This is not. No.”

The red eyes widened a fraction before returning to their usual gentle gaze. Shizuru placed her hands on the other’s waist, holding her at arm’s length.

“Well, then, where is my present?” she asked, before suddenly stopping with a comical smirk. She let out a laugh. “My, does that ever make me seem demanding!”

Natsuki laughed as well. Smoothly removing the hands on her waist, she took one of them and laced their fingers, leading the older woman away from the doorway. Taking care to close the door of the shed, she then brought Shizuru to the other building, pausing to extract a large, rusty-looking key from a pouch in her cloak. She fit it into the door’s heavy lock, making a small sound of pleasure once she managed to work it open. She opened it and walked in, disappearing into the darkness.

“Wait,” she told Shizuru, who had remained at entryway. “Light.”

There was the sound of flint rubbing, and Shizuru saw the dim outline of her bodyguard in the gloom with each spark flying out. A few seconds later, a lamp was lit and the interior of the tiny house was finally visible. She stepped inside, taking it all in.

“Hmm... quite cosy.”

It was, she saw, quite an old house. The floor was made of wood, much scuffed with old footsteps and time, but obviously swept clean. She could see a few dark spots at the corners, which she guessed were from the same damp that had discoloured the walls. At the very centre of the room was a recessed area in the floor that she guessed to be for cooking as well as a fire, since there were ashen lumps of what seemed to be used-up charcoal in it. Around this hearth were thick woollen rugs which she took to be provided by Natsuki, since they looked too new to be part of the original furnishings. There were even two large cushions, which seemed to invite her to settle in. For all its apparent, age, the tiny house had no mustiness. She could scent fresh air coming in from the windows on each wall.

She looked up again, only to see the younger woman smiling softly at her, the lamp she was holding giving her an unearthly radiance. A shiver of fear shot down her spine at the image; she was reminded suddenly of the portraits and sculptures of Death she had seen at home, which was a beautiful, dark-haired woman in a flowing white dress, a candle in her hand. What a terrible omen!

“Natsuki,” she said urgently, in such a sharp tone that it confused the younger woman. “Give me the lamp. I... shall light a fire.” She crossed the distance between them in five powerful strides, taking the lamp before the other could begin to yield it. “Do you have kindling? Coal?”

Natsuki nodded, turning away and heading for the stone counter behind her. Shizuru walked over to the sand-floored hearth, trying to still the rapid beating of her heart. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, and was surprised to feel her fingers trail slight moisture on her brow. Her hand had the glisten of cold sweat.

“No... not possible...”

It means nothing, it was nothing, she chanted to herself, suddenly more haunted than ever before by the lessons on signs and portents that she had been given in training to become an augur. It has to mean nothing. How many times had she seen persons disturbed by such malign-seeming visions, and gone into a panic of prayer and offering only to find that what they had been fearing had not even been possible, given their particular circumstances? How many times had she seen such ill omens reported by the other augurs with lugubrious or foreboding tones, only to be proven mere exercises of a morbid imagination? It was nothing, it was nothing.

She started in surprise when she felt something heavy fall on her shoulders, atop her cloak. Her eyes found two green ones looking uncertainly her way.

“Um...”

She apprehended what it was that had fallen on her then: the younger woman had apparently removed her own cloak and draped it around her. She felt its warmth, added to the heat of her own, returning the calm to her slowly. That was an enigmatically great comfort... that along with the reassuring presence of the other woman in the room.

And there were also those bright, still eyes, all the brighter as they rested upon her.

“Sorry,” Natsuki whispered, looking contrite. “Are... are you cold? I can make it now... the fire.”

The older woman looked from the cloak around her shoulders to the lamp in her hand, and finally to the hearth, which was indeed prepared. She essayed a smile, holding the other’s face as she answered.

“No, do not apologise when you should be forgiving me,” she said gently. “Come, let us go to the hearth. We should both be much warmer once I have lit the fire.”

They made their way over to the fireside, Natsuki kneeling on the shaggy rugs while the older woman stepped into the recessed box and began the fire. After a minute or so of careful nursing, there was finally a fine glow to the embers, and Shizuru could take her place beside the girl.

She took off the two cloaks around her and set them aside. Natsuki gave her a questioning look.

“We shall not need them for the moment,” she told the younger woman, placing a hand on her shoulder and easing her gently down. When Natsuki was finally lying on the rug, she followed and stretched her length on top of her, gladdened by the heat of their skin. Two arms made their way around her neck, rousing her with their light burden.

“Shizuru...”

She turned her head at the call and met plump lips, parting them slowly with her tongue. The body underneath hers shifted, moved, and she anchored it with her hands as though imploring it not to leave. Even then she felt as though it could slip through her fingers, and she realised some of the fear from her vision was still inside her. That was all the more troubling as she was not a naturally superstitious person... But, all the same...

Let it go. It was nothing.

“Natsuki, my beautiful Natsuki...”

She tilted the girl’s face away to expose the pale neck, which was already rippling as the other swallowed quietly. Shizuru dipped in, sucking softly on the smooth ridges of muscle and dipping her tongue in exploration of the crevices beside them. She held the other woman tighter with each kiss, pressing her further down with the weight of her own body.

“It was fortunate for you that we left early,” she breathed passionately. “Had we stayed with the others any longer, I might have ravished you on the spot. Mmm...”

She bit into the girl’s neck when she heard the faint protests, stuttered sounds cut short by gasps. Suddenly hands were pulling her head up and dragging her mouth back to the one waiting for her.

“Hn... Shizuru.” Natsuki whispered her name before kissing her eagerly, their tongues tangling once again. There was a pause as both took deep breaths, followed by a weak bite on the older woman’s lip. “Shizuru...”

Then came the sound of a shuffle followed by a muted thump.

“Wh—Natsuki?”

She had not expected it; all too suddenly, Shizuru found their positions reversed. It was her back on the rug, her lover pressing her against it. The other’s mouth was hovering in front of hers, and Shizuru could see the flash of teeth as it parted, releasing a hot stream of air that licked at her chin.

She decided to wait and see what Natsuki would do.

“Mnnn...” came the purring rumble from the girl’s mouth, which was still above her chin. She was finding the constant caress of air from it quite arousing, and would have given up her plan to be patient when it suddenly ducked. Natsuki nosed under her jaw, making little sniffing sounds as she touched the tip of her nose to the sensitive flesh repeatedly. The older woman tilted her face upwards compliantly to give the girl better access.

Ah, right, she thought, enjoying the curious form of attention. I applied a touch of fragrance today... I wonder if she likes it.

She shivered when she felt Natsuki’s nose trace fire from her jaw to her collarbone. Another hot breath slipped against her skin.

I daresay she does.

A gasp left her when she felt the nose replaced by a wet tongue.

Oh, Natsuki...

“I don’t...“ she heard the younger woman whisper, in between drawn-out licks on her neck. She strained to focus her attention on the words, and not on the velvety touch of the other’s tongue on her skin. “Don’t like... it...”

Shizuru brought her hands up, yanking on the dark tresses so that Natsuki’s face was hovering before her again. The younger woman’s eyes were still lidded with lust and her parted lips glimmered wetly in the dark. Shizuru could see her teeth, heard them click as Natsuki brought them together in a short, convulsive bite on the air. It struck her, not for the first time, that the girl looked less human than feral whenever she was aroused.

She was so spellbound by the sight of that ravenous mouth that she nearly forgot her question.

“Natsuki,” she said, after a few harsh breaths. “What do you not like?”

There was a sudden flicker in the green eyes, an unexpected shyness. She held the dark head firmly to prevent it from quailing or turning away.

“Tell me,” she pressed, slipping one of her legs between the younger woman’s. She slid it upwards gently against the white dress, which glided upwards to accommodate her. Her leg bent at the knee and rose until it was just below the apex of the Otomeian’s thighs, and she was pleased to note that they trembled at the contact. “What is it that you do not like?”

The slender black brows drew together. Another low rumble left the girl’s throat as she struggled to voice a reply.

“People...” she finally managed to say, very softly. “Looking at you...”

The fair-haired woman stared at her in amazement as she continued in an ashamed, sulky voice.

“I don’t like them... looking,” she mumbled. “Like – like that.”

Her eyes, so large they seemed infinite, stared at the object of her jealousy.

“At you...” she added. “Shizuru.”

Her grip tightened on Shizuru’s upper arms after that, eyes darting away. Hence she did not see the emotion which crossed the Himean’s face after her pronunciation. Nor did she hear the older woman’s thoughts, which were actually prayers.

I do not know if you can hear this, but I want you to hear it, ye gods, Shizuru was thinking, as she looked up at the face she had come to need—had come to want near her at all times. Although I know the vision I had earlier means nothing, I shall harass all of you forever with sacrifice and veneration if it is necessary to ensure that you make it nothing.

The fingers on her arms were rubbing gently now, a nose touching hers softly and caressing it. Her prayers intensified at the swell of emotion these actions elicited, and she knew—and some part of her knew it was unlike herself—that her prayers now seemed almost desperate.

Listen to me, all you immortals or whatever divinities may be there, she intoned, in the silence of her mind. Heed me... I shall give whatever you ask, be it only that you grant this one thing. Ensure to me that what I saw earlier was merely the product of my own diseased imaginings, that it bodes no ill for her.

A pair of lips descended over hers.

Ensure to me that she shall always be safe.

There was a strangled sound as they kissed, the immensity of previously held-back emotions swept into that gesture. Shizuru dropped her hands from the black hair after a few seconds, bringing them down and grasping at the girl’s dress to pull it further up. Soon the gossamer cloth was gathered at Natsuki’s waist and her bare legs shivering from the cold air kissing them. She gave another shiver momentarily, however, this time from Shizuru’s bent leg pressing further up between hers. She parted their mouths with a moan.

“I am very glad,” the older woman murmured throatily, pressing her thigh harder between the other’s legs. “I would hate to think I am ever the only one who is jealous. It always seems to be...”

She felt the younger woman move, hands trying frantically to pull up her dress. She let them do that, even raising her hips from the floor to help.

“I am happy to know what I thought I saw... was wrong.”

Then their fingers were inside each other, hands pushing towards the conclusion of their intimacy. Shizuru’s breath whistled as she clenched her teeth, watching the woman atop her curling up tightly and grinding into the hand she had placed on her lifted thigh. She groaned loudly when she felt the hand touching the apex of her own legs moving faster, clenching upon her with such strength it came close to being painful. Perhaps it was painful—she could no longer tell where one feeling left off and another began. Pain was the same as pleasure, which was the same as hunger, which was the same as satiation. All nuances of sensation cascaded together in a foamy pleasure that nearly drowned her.

“Hnnhh – Shizu – ngh—“

She heard the attempted vocalisation of her name, followed by several broken words she could not understand. Her hand slid from the ridged, knobby protrusions of the other woman’s spine and up the fair neck, ending finally at soft black hair. She took a fistful of it in her grip and used it to bring Natsuki’s lips to hers, whispering an endearment before doing so.

I wish we could always be like this, she thought, hardly coherent from bliss. To be together this profoundly, without the complexity of everything else. Whenever they were alone in this way, she found herself in a dream where neither she nor Natsuki existed—where they became lost in each other so completely that it seemed they were only one being. Even now she could feel the hot flesh sheathing her fingers tightening when she tightened, the mouth near hers gasping when she gasped. Even the muscled body she could feel shivering atop her no longer seemed smaller or more slender, feeling suddenly like a perfect mirror and extension of her own. Was it so wrong of her to want that feeling forever? Was it too much to ask?

“Oh god...”

Her eyes closed shut as they convulsed at the same time, gripping hard onto each other’s flesh. She felt her hips leaving the rug and thrusting upwards, releasing herself into Natsuki’s palm. She could even feel the fine, wet mouth of the younger woman as it brushed her cheek, its owner too far into ecstasy to discipline its utterances into actual words. But words were superfluous, words did not matter at the moment, and both women tangled on that rug knew it. So no words were spoken.

It was much, much later, when the only sound was that of the wind rustling from outside, that words passed again between them.

The older woman was the one who spoke.

“Natsuki, thank you again for this,” she said, while stroking the black tresses that had splayed all over her chest. The girl’s head moved and nuzzled softly against her bosom. “This is a very happy birthday indeed.”

She felt the responding nod to that and fell silent once again. Her fingers were content playing with the other’s sleek hair, dipping into it repeatedly as through a river. She even felt a tug on her own locks, which she took to be the girl mimicking her actions before realising that it was a call for attention.

“Your present...” Natsuki whispered. “Is not here yet.”

She lifted her head too peer at the one lying on her breast.

“Oh,” she said with surprise. “Do you mean to say that was not the present?”

“Mm.”

“Oh.” She paused thoughtfully, lowering her head. “I see.”

A moment later, she asked: “Then where is it?”

She had to laugh when Natsuki murmured, in parody of her words earlier: “Demanding.” She knocked her knuckles gently on the back of the dark head, smiling rather broadly.

“Ah, tell me already,” she implored. “I am awfully curious, you know, since you went to all this trouble for it. What could it be?”

There was a short pause, broken by Natsuki slowly bringing herself up into a sitting position beside the older woman. Shizuru noted that her companion was focused on something outside, or so it seemed given how she was staring out of a window. She sighed and decided to be patient, already missing the heat of the other’s embrace.

“It’s soon, I think...” The unexpected, strangely vague words made her wonder. “I hope, today...”

She sat up, a little concerned now. Natsuki looked faintly anxious.

“What is it?” she asked the younger woman. “What do you mean, Natsuki?”

The emerald eyes turned towards her, and she tilted her head expectantly. “Shizuru.”

“Yes?”

“Can we sit there... at the door?” she said, sounding like a child asking for a treat. “Now?”

Shizuru took some time to consider the odd request, eventually nodding in acquiescence. Both of them stood and picked up their cloaks, with Shizuru bringing along one of the blankets on the rugs for added comfort. It was Natsuki who returned to spread one of the rugs from the hearthside at the foot of the now-open doorway, settling afterwards into it with the taller woman behind her. The two snuggled under the protection of the heavy cloth, fitting their bodies together almost on instinct.

“Is this all right?” Shizuru asked while wrapping her arms about the other. “You want to sit here?”

“Mm.”

“What is next?”

“Next... we wait.”

Shizuru released a sigh at the succinct answer and ducked her head, resting her cheek against the other woman’s hair. She wondered what in the world all of this was about, what with all the preparation and waiting Natsuki deemed necessary to put into it. Oh, not that she was complaining, of course... she was quite happy to do what her companion asked, finding contentment in the simple act of sitting in wait for some unknown thing intended for her pleasure. Thus she looked out at the view and faced the immense night, seemingly more immense with this woman in her arms.

Still I do not understand so many things about you, she spoke silently into the black hair, knowing that the other simply took the movement of her lips to be caresses. What secrets are you hiding that you must be so unfathomable? You are both the shell and the pearl, confounding me as you do now.

Her mind travelled, at that thought, to the secret she herself had been keeping for the past two days: a gift she intended to give to Natsuki. When the governor of Argus had suggested that she take the girl shopping for a very belated birthday present, she had taken the suggestion and ended up buying an eclectic collection of presents for her lover, who had been so overwhelmed by the carelessness of the older woman’s expenditure that she hardly even managed to articulate her reluctance beyond a stutter. She accepted the gifts with charming embarrassment, though, and thanked Shizuru that evening... several times over. Even so, Shizuru had felt a niggling dissatisfaction haunting her.

Deciding that she would remain discontent until she found a present truly worthy of the younger woman, she had then searched for one—though not at the markets. This time she went to the specialists and private vendors, where she finally came upon a jeweller who presented her with something she deemed fitting. It was a necklace of fine golden chain, the links handsomely worked indeed. But the chain itself was a paltry thing compared to what dangled from it: a huge, perfectly black pearl.

She had known immediately upon seeing it that it was what she was searching for. The pearl was so large that it struck awe even in her, a woman whose jewel chest was jeweller’s dream. It was roughly the size of a cherry, and perfectly round, perfectly black in the way only pearls could be—with a hint of luminescence even in the darkness of its skin. She had found that fitting. And so she bought it without any qualms, and paid well for its worth—a little over a hundred silver talents, in fact. Nearly a million denarii. A fortune.

But it is worth it, she thought contentedly to herself. And it should pay me back twice over if Natsuki is pleased by it, for that is worth more than any sum. How she wished she had brought it along! Then she could see the younger woman’s face, see whether she liked the present or not. She hoped fervently that Natsuki would.

“—zuru...”

She broke off her thoughts at hearing the younger woman mumble

“Ah, yes, Natsuki?”

Natsuki shook her head, mumbling incoherently to herself. The older woman looked down at the bundle of cloth sheltering them, wondering if the girl was feeling the chill. Certainly the air was prickly with cold now, and she tightened her arms.

“Natsuki, meum mel... are you cold?” she asked, shifting a little. “Perhaps we should be going home...”

“No. Wait...”

She felt the girl stir and loosened the embrace to allow Natsuki to look at her.

“Wait... Soon...” the young woman pleaded. “A little more. Soon.”

She nodded acquiescently. “Of course.”

Satisfied, Natsuki turned back to the view of the lake. It seemed as though they had been waiting for only a few minutes when Shizuru heard the younger woman whisper to her that ‘it had arrived.’ The Himean looked around, searching for whatever apparition her lover was referring to.

“What has arrived, Natsuki?” she asked, finally. “I confess I see nothing.”

There was a low chuckle.

“The sun.”

“Ah.” Shizuru looked up to see a greying sky melting into amber towards the East, past a hilly horizon. So occupied had she been with searching for something on the ground that she had failed to realise that the sun was indeed rising, allowing her vision to reach farther than a mere hour before.

Her birthday was over and a new day had begun.

“So it is the sun...”

After a moment, she said: “It is beautiful, Natsuki. Is this what you wanted me to see?”

“No. Wait.”

She wondered what she was really supposed to be seeing when she heard the girl mumble softly to herself yet again, this time muttering foreign words that sounded remarkably like a prayer. She was about to ask what Natsuki was praying for when the younger woman in perked up, clutching her hand excitedly underneath the blanket.

“Shizuru,” she whispered enthusiastically. “Shizuru, look there. The lake.”

The older woman did as she asked, unsure of what to expect. All she could see was the shimmering surface of the lake, still dark and silvery within the shadow. The light of the sun had yet to touch it, though she could see the glow coming closer like a flood of gold over the land as the orb rose higher in the sky. It was a beautiful sight, and she said so.

“It truly is beautiful—“

“The lake. The lake.”

“The lake? Wha—oh... Oh.”

Now she understood what the younger woman had wanted to show her. The lake’s surface, upon being touched by the growing flood of sunlight, had frosted over in an explosion of white ice perceptible even from a distance. The light continued to stretch, chasing the rushing spread of crystallization as it shot out in all directions of the water. Shizuru held her breath as she saw something she had never imagined to be possible, the silvery fingers of ice splintering over the lake surface at a speed faster than any mortal steed, followed by the sluggish radiance of Helios rising.

“Jupiter...” she whispered, her voice failing beyond that. She could only watch silently and in awe, knowing the sight would forever be burned into her memory.

Or crystallised, clear as the purest ice.

Meanwhile, the person who had let her see this flicked her own eyes back and forth, the emerald orbs torn between watching the phenomenon itself and the reaction it had caused on Shizuru’s face. She finally settled for the latter, noting with pleasure the slight moisture in the older woman’s crimson eyes. She waited patiently for Shizuru to speak, knowing the event was almost over.

She waited, and soon, it was indeed over.

Still, there was only silence afterwards. That, and the sounds of the forest awakening from its sleep. Natsuki had to wait a while again, it seemed, before the older woman could even begin to say anything. But she was patient, and so she waited without complaint. That was one of her gifts, after all: the mystery of her silence.

It was a full minute later that Shizuru finally regained herself enough to speak to her.

“By the gods,” was the woman’s reverent whisper. “Natsuki...”

Natsuki said nothing, simply smiling that ever-enigmatic smile. Shizuru looked down at those knowing green eyes, unaware of the emotion still brimming at the corners of her own.

“Natsuki, that... that was...”

She trailed off here, to the younger woman’s amusement. After a few seconds of patient silence, the latter finally finished the sentence for her, speaking in husky but gentle tones.

“Beautiful, Shizuru,” she said softly. “That was... beautiful.”