As Yvonne and I walk together, hand over shoulder, I look for the sun. It takes me a bit because it isn’t projecting much heat right now as the day ends and I’m not sure where West is. I finally find it, a small distance above the topmost edge of the right on the left of the lake.

There are still a couple of hours before nightfall. Well, nightfall in the mountains, and east of the twins I suppose. I hope Father is doing alright, there is no guarantee that the Rykz haven’t attacked yet, whatever Princess Celyz says.

How naive I was just two days ago, thinking that she wouldn’t be dishonest after she said that it would be detrimental when establishing contact with other cultures.

The only thing that sentence meant is that the benefit must outweigh the detriment if she is to be dishonest. It was a clever move on her part though, I can’t deny that. It made me relax more than I should have when I spoke to her, trusting her words more than I would have otherwise.

Not that I think she lies to me when we speak, the Princess is an odd mixture of manipulative eagerness. A scholar in vocation given the job of an interrogator. That raises another question, why hasn’t she tortured us?

When I was younger and hung out with other kids, we liked to scare each other with stories of cold bloods torturing brave women and men until they turned against the Emperor.

If Princess Celyz wants us to do something for her, I’m sure she knows all about those techniques. I suppress a shiver of discomfort. Not that I’m complaining she hasn’t done these things, at all, it’s just odd.

She called making paint with the skin of enemies barbaric and she was touched by the fact that the Rykz warriors that accompanied her dispersed over a wide area to be able to intercept threats far away from her.

But at the same time, I meant what I told the others about her priority being the hive by a long shot. If torturing us gets her what she wants, she would do it. I’ll have to ask, I think I’m missing too much information to figure that one out for myself and she did encourage me to ask things.

“Hey, Wench!” Yvonne speaks into my ear at full volume and I startle, jumping a few meters away from her.

“Fucking! Yvonne!” I growl at her.

“No one suitable for that around, regretfully.” Her face actually makes a saddened expression. Waw. I was more spot on than I originally thought when I accused her to be worse than I am by far.

“What is it?” I ask.

“We’re here.” She nods towards our building, right in front of us.

“Oh, right, was deep in thought.” I shrug. “Could you not call me a wench thought?”

“Eh, sorry.” Yvonne apologizes, surprising me. “I don’t think she is still here.” She says, looking through a window from afar before taking a few steps to fully glance inside. “Nope.” She tells me.

“Where do you think she went?” I ask.

“She probably followed Patrick’s example and went to clean up.” Yvonne turns around and makes an unconcerned shrug. A spasm of fear makes my expression twitch at her words. “Ha!” She somehow manages to laugh at me with a single syllable. “No, not in a million years, relax sweet cheeks. Your mind really is in the gutter.” A sigh of relief reluctantly escapes me.

“Shut up.” I glare at her. “You’re one to speak when you’re five steps ahead of me in that direction.”

“Only five? Oh right, we haven’t known each other for very long. Ah, it makes me think back to when Leomi still saw me with innocent eyes. How I enjoyed breaking her out of that illusion, one victim walking out of my room in shame at a time.” Yvonne utters with a dreamy half-voice.

“Victim?!” I spout. “No! Please don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.” I hurriedly continue as I see her open her mouth to actually answer me.

“It really isn’t anything sordid.” She rolls her eyes. “Anyway, let’s get to the Lavatories, you might even catch a glimpse of your Lady topless if you let your eyes wander a little.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” I quickly reply.

But the honest intentions that I just proclaimed are probably being undermined by the fact that I turned around and started fast-walking towards the lavatories in the middle of my answer.

I can track Yvonne as she follows behind me thanks to the amused chuckle that she is making. I mean, I wouldn’t do that … but I could since I didn’t promise anything to my Lady. I could take a short peek inside, just to see if she’s there, right?

“I can hear you thinking about it from here!” Yvonne exclaims with rolling laughter.

“Shut up! You can’t. And I wasn’t.” Well, good job me. I didn’t even manage to convince myself with that.

“Now I know what motivates you.” She continues, victoriously. I stop walking and let her catch up with me.

“That couldn’t have been a hard guess to make.” I observe as we start making our way towards the lavatories again but side by side this time.

“Really wasn’t, magnets to your eyes. Although, to be fair, they are at eye level for you.” Yvonne says with a smile.

I’d like to protest that I’m not that short but … I am, and this is the one benefit I get for being that short, so I return a guilty smile back at her. We pass a crossing that I recognize because it is one I took care to remember to keep the location of the building with small forges.

“Look over there.” I make a nod to point Yvonne to look along the street crossing ours on our right when we pass by. “That building with fuming chimneys.” I add. “It’s the one that has raw iron bars, they’re stored in a barrel next to the entrance.”

“I’ll remember.” She nods in acknowledgment, we both walk through the crossing without stopping.

“I have an odd question, you don’t have to answer if it isn’t something that peasants should know. The fact that Rykz have access to flow and what my Lady told me about lacking basic knowledge got me curious somehow.”

“Sure, ask away Jessica.”

“First, why could Ass-face see my energy reserves? I was told that only my direct liege could do anything with my flow.”

“Well, the direct liege can lock your flow at a distance or take away your energy reserves with a touch, that’s it. The liege of your liege can see the state of your reserves but can’t do anything other than that. Patrick, by the way, I love the nickname, could see yours because he is his father’s titled heir.”

“That’s a relief.” I sigh. “One more thing, and you don’t have to tell me if it’s forbidden. How much flow do Nobles actually have access to compared to us peasants?”

“Exactly the same, it isn’t really advertised because most Nobles don’t like to admit it but it isn’t a secret either. It would be impossible to keep that information concealed from the wealthy common folk since most members of Nobility have no title, like me. We only have as much flow reserves as peasants do but a lot of us cheat and use gourds of water infused with flow, like the Templar Order does but in lesser amounts since we don’t have their resources, gathering flow is a very time and resource consuming task.”

“Oh, I thought …” I pause. “Well, I never really thought about it in detail, it seemed natural to me that Nobles would be born with more flow reserves.”

“Like I said, Nobility doesn’t make it a habit to spread that information.” Yvonne shrugs. “How are your reserves now by the way? With all the injuries you collected.”

“Still stuck at about a fourth of my regeneration speed but I haven’t been burning my energy so I have a small reserve. Do you know why that is by the way?” I ask.

“No, my tutor told me that the University is still debating whether our bodies consume our energy reserves to help heal themselves or if damage to our bodies reduces our ability to regenerate flow. Doesn’t matter in the end, you should avoid getting injured either way.”

“That has been an issue.” I comment with humor. “I think that my survival instinct has more fight than flight to it, too aggressive for my own good.”

“You’ll get to a place where you can stay relatively calm and make rational decisions if you regularly spar for a few months.” Yvonne says reassuringly. “Once you’ve been hit in the face by a wooden sword, repeatedly.” She adds with a wicked smile.

“Sounds like fun.” I reply shortly, ending the conversation as we approach the first lavatory building.

I stop about ten meters away from the door, launching my arm towards Yvonne to catch her by the arm and force her to stop next to me. She reacts by making a pout but doesn’t push the issue.

“My Lady?” I call, loudly projecting my voice.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” Lady Lance yells out in response.

I let go of Yvonne and take a few steps to lay my back against one of the buildings bordering the street.

“Do you know what they did with your armors?” I ask.

“No, but I’d like to, they weren’t cheap.” She makes an annoyed frown. “They’re engraved with a few simple runes that make them very tough for such a light piece of equipment.”

“How does that work?” I raise my eyebrows in curiosity.

“They’re just written constructs, you inject some energy the same way you would recharge a flow torch’s fire construct except you anchor the energy to the runes. The construct remains activated for as long as it has energy to burn. Runes are very practical to use because since you don’t need to assemble the construct yourself before a fight or even learn it at all for that matter. The tradeoff is that you can’t fine-tune the individual segment values or redefine the zone that the runic construct affects to conserve energy without changing the runes themselves, it’s an all or nothing deal.”

“Sounds really useful, couldn’t you just make four identical constructs with runes instead of a single big one? Would allow you to only activate the portion you need.” I suggest.

“I suppose it does get around that problem, but that’s one more thing to handle during battle and it leaves an opening in your defense if you get struck by surprise. I would rather just burn the energy.” She counters.

“I would too.” I acquiesce with a nod.

“Still, it feels liberating to breathe without a hard leather jacket compressing my chest.” Yvonne says before taking a deep breath.

“I totally get it, I’ve had to use a leather band myself for some years now because, otherwise, it’s just too unwieldy to have them move around while plowing.”

“I know, took up the habit when my father started sparring with me because I would somehow manage to hit a boob with my upper arms every time I swung my sword a bit too wildly.”

“Yeah, your breasts are too big.” I nod several times.

“That’s not what I said.” She frowns, I make a mocking smirk in reply.

“I agree with Jessica!” Lady Lance throws as she exits the lavatory.

“Of course, you would.” Yvonne snaps back at my Lady.

“Hey, what does that mean?” A dark look looms in my Lady’s eyes.

“It means she’s jealous of you.” I immediately jump on the opportunity to compliment her. “Your breasts are perfect, my Lady.” I push myself to be more direct and add something that precisely describes my feelings since I’m way past the level of overdoing it with her anyway.

I struggle a bit but manage to keep my eyes fixed on my Lady’s face, considering that she’s seen me blush often enough that once more won’t matter.

My forceful lack of restraint is rewarded a thousandfold compared to what it cost me in embarrassment when my Lady’s cheeks take a discreet red tint. I made her blush! This time there is no doubt!

“Ugh. I can’t argue if you’re both going to zone out staring at each other.” Yvonne complains from the side, breaking the moment before it can realize itself. I throw her a dark look of my own.

“We’re friends, stop insinuating otherwise.” Lady Lance berates her, throwing cold water over the warm feeling of accomplishment in my heart.

“That wasn’t a friendly comment.” Yvonne shakes her head while rolling her eyes.

“You’re my friend and I’ve heard much cruder from you, at least Jessica is straightforward in giving her opinions without being as base as you can be.” Lady Lance argues to Yvonne without looking at me. A pinching pain pricks my heart at her words.

“I think we should take a walk around the lake, take in our surroundings for a while.” I cut in with the first idea that comes to my mind, desperate to put an end to this subject of conversation.

“Good idea.” My Lady agrees, her expression growing serious.

She immediately turns around to lead Yvonne and me around the lavatory, Patrick emerges, coming from the same direction where the large well on a stone base is.

“We were …” Lady Lance starts but stops when Patrick lifts his hand up with his palm wide open.

“Ah, there you all are.” A resounding voice originating from behind Patrick surprises us, Princess Celyz takes one of her long swaying steps forward from behind the corner of the lavatory building, entering our field of vision.

Fucking … She isn’t going to give us a day of peace, is she? I was kind of starting to look forward to walking around the lake with my Lady too. Although if Ass-face was going to join in, I don’t think it would have been all fun and relaxation.

“Princess Celyz, I hope you had a good day.” I nod towards her slightly.

“Why, yes I did, Jessica, thank you. I hope you’ve also had a pleasant day.”

“It was agreeable and I’ve learned a few things.” I casually say in response.

“Time well spent then, as my father used to say.” Lady Lance makes a reminiscing smile. “What good wind pushed you to join us, Princess?” She asks.

“A feast, one of my sisters had a grub butchered today and gifted me with some of the meat to share with you all.

“Don’t you have a name for your grubs? Other than … grub I mean.” I ask.

“We do, unfortunately, since our language does not use sounds like yours does, I have no translation available for you.” She responds.

“Hum.” I pause. “You use a different name for yourselves than Rykz, don’t you?”

“Indeed.” She replies with a warm vibration to her voice. “The hive shares the name Silver with the metal in our way of speech and we also refer to other hives by their given names rather than the one of the Queen ruling it because the hive remains above the Queen, but we have no single name that refers to all of us, not one that I can translate for you.”

“You don’t mind the word Rykz?” Yvonne asks.

“It serves its purpose. The word is quite distorted compared to what they actually sound like, but rhy-ksz would be quite a mouthful for you to pronounce every-time.” She chuckles.

“I am looking forward to tasting that grub meat you spoke of.” I speak up before an uncomfortable silence can take root.

“So am I, thank you for the invitation, Princess.” Lady Lance adds.

Yvonne and Patrick add their own thanks to my Lady’s before Princess Celyz guides us along the streets, we reach a building after a few short minutes. Inside, there is a row of long tables on either side of the room.

A single long table is standing in the very center of the room, no chairs around it but that isn’t surprising as I haven’t seen a single one anywhere else either.

“Take a spot at the table, the workers are on their way with the prepared meal.”

“No chairs.” Patrick states, I hear the reproach hidden in the undertone.

“The physiology of our species makes such things superfluous.” Princess Celyz replies without a rise in her resounding tone. “You are welcome to fashion your own.”

I can’t help but chuckle a little as I imagine Ass-face trying to bring down a tree. I actually laugh when I imagine Patrick staring at a rebate plane, puzzled at what to do with it.

“I would love to see that.” I tell the others when I see them all staring once my laughter died down. I succeed in stifling a mocking smile.

“Moving on.” Lady Lance says with a flat tone that communicated both a warning and an order. “I see that your workers have arrived.” She nods towards the door.

I turn and watch three workers enter the room, each holding a large copper platter in their three-fingered hands above their heads. Each of the platters holds a different food, the first is filled entirely by a large pile of Portobello mushrooms, the second is covered by wooden bowls with spoons in them, the third has stacks of grilled amber-red meat pieces.

“That, looks, good.” I say, almost drooling at the smell that reaches my nostrils. “What is that smell?”

“Grub grilled with basil.” Princess Celyz answers. “Go on, take a spot around the table.”

The group moves at her instigation, that or the prospect of fresh food. I place myself across from my Lady. Once the platters are on the table, I see that there is a red sauce inside the wooden bowls.

“What’s inside the sauce?” I ask, seizing a slice of the amber-red meat between my fingers.

“Tomatoes, green pepper, and parsley.” Princess Celyz answers.

“Tastes like something between beef and pork.” Yvonne says, waving a piece of meat with a bite taken out of it. “Less fat than pork and a bit tougher than beef steak, less bloody too but that might be due to how it was cooked.”

I take a deep bite of the piece of meat I’m holding. I hurriedly bite it down to small pieces that I can savor, the texture of the meat doesn’t seem tough at all to me but the only other kind of meat I’ve ever eaten is an expensive smoked ham made by the village’s butcher.

“This is really good.” I tell them once I finish my mouthful. “Never had beef or pork steaks, do they melt in your mouth like that?” I ask quickly before taking another bite out of the amber-red meat.

“They do, well good beef does, pork not really.” Lady Lance tells me with a smile.