“How did you find the tea?” Wellen asks her the next day. Leah had made up her mind that morning to pick his brain for as much information as she could; he seems educated, and not as close to Leah as the rest of the five had been, and thus a safe choice of teacher. Thankfully, Wellen had seemed happy to see her return, and had invited her in without her even needing to ask.

“Oh, uh…I don’t know, I don’t think it did much,” she lies.

“Not to worry; there are other things we can try,” he says, mixing up a concoction that he explains as being a tea of willow bark, maple sap, and a mysterious tree leaf that he describes as an energiser. He instructs her to drink it right then and there, and she does. At least there’s nothing else animal-like in it. Why salamander? I guess I'll never know.

The tea is bitter, too hot, and makes her gag slightly, but she does as she is told. Once done, Leah sets down the empty mug, and opens the topic of conversation she had decided is the most time-sensitive.

“Until my memories return, I’m a little…at risk.” she explains. “There aren’t many people I can trust to ask questions about life here; my team are all too distressed by my condition, and my employers are too distant. You I see as sort of a doctor, so I assume there can be some discretion between us.”

Wellen agrees, intrigued. “However I can help, Miss.”

“Just ‘Leah’ is fine.”

Leah begins quizzing him on the basics of life in Valerin, and of the geography of the region. Confused but supportive, he brings out maps and history books.

The region seems to be coastal, mainly forested, semi-tropical. To the north is a wide river, running through a place called “The Nations of Bair,” and then a bit further north is a place called “Algi.” To the south is a place whose borders are etched in fuzzily, called “Jun.” Beyond this is “Devad,” and out on the middle of the water is a mountainous island called “Cheden.”

She has to squint to make out the names, then pulls back from the paper and finds the letters clearer. Oh great, my eyes are fucked up here. I’m farsighted? Well I guess I know now why I was ‘illiterate.’

The history books are in-depth and lengthy, but Leah skims through the first page on each region, picking up essentials. Volst…has provinces: Welleslass, Probesc, Valerin. Monarchy. Devad, monarchy. Cheden, empire and sub-regions ruled by lesser nobles. Algi…nothing on Algi. Nations of Bair…oh jeez, basically a bunch of tiny countries in a trench coat, all different. Tribunal to the north, Council to the south, not hereditary titles but not elected either. Geez.

“You read quite quickly, for someone without schooling,” Wellen says, sounding impressed. Leah grimaces; she has intentionally slowed it down, and her farsightedness had slowed it down even further, but apparently still not enough.

She ends her visit with a lesson on what manners she is supposed to convey, as a fighter employed by the Valerid family to protect their borders and to protect their son’s betrothed. Wellen confesses his ignorance on some of the more nuanced matters – “I am not titled, and have only rarely been to the estate,” – but agrees to teach her the basics.

She also asks if the marriage is arranged; it is.

At lunch, the serving woman is present, but does not acknowledge Leah. Remembering the woman’s secretive behaviour, checking the halls before the kiss, Leah ignores her back, and hopes that she’s not too obviously blushing whenever the woman passes near.

Afterwards, Jeno asks to be taken on a tour of the estate; Leah remembers to say the joke from yesterday, and though Jeno seems happy that Leah is back in the pattern, her laughter seems more habit than emotion. Leah feels helpless. How am I supposed to connect to Jeno? I guess I’m not; I’m a guard, I shouldn’t be overly friendly with my charge. Even if she clearly needs a friend.

Their walk ends early. Returning to her rooms, Leah passes through the kitchens, as she roughly knows the way from there. There, she sees the serving woman, and tries to evade notice by jogging into the stairway. She doesn’t know if she was successful, and doesn’t wait around to find out.

In her rooms, she watches the comings and goings of the courtyard; gardeners tending the early blooms, estate guards in their uniforms running through exercises. She thinks she sees Meredith with them, but can’t be sure at this distance.

Kain passes by before supper, pulling Leah from her contemplation. “We’ll need to dress a bit nicer, tonight,” she says, opening Leah’s cupboard and sifting through it. “This will be the formal announcement of Samson and Jeno’s engagement.”

Leah nods, eager to see how it unfolds but upset that she can’t just have a supper alone in peace for once. Kain helps her into a brown and light green gown, the only thing in the closet that doesn’t feel homespun, and Leah helps her into a red-and-silver one with a cream sash.

Kain hands her a silver ring, and Leah hesitates. “I hadn’t noticed this,” she says, taking it and looking it over. “Is it mine?”

“You almost never wear it, but tonight would be appropriate, if we’re supposed to look our best.”

“Where’s it from?”

“I think that Bairish caravan merchant gave it to you, as a bonus on top of your normal pay.” Kain says, grinning. “It’s got the right shape for a Bairish ring, that sort of twisted metal thing. He was awfully fond of you, I think because you spoke Algic.”

Leah holds it up and admires it. “So long as it’s not a wedding ring.”

Kain snickers in surprise, and sighs. “As though you’d accept!” Leah tenses up until she continues with, “He was at least twenty years older than you, and in your words: ‘so self-indulgent it’s painful to watch.’”

Leah laughs and puts on the ring, which barely fits around her index finger.

The two descend together. The tables are set with light blue linen tablecloths, and the food is a bit richer than previous meals; spring greens make an appearance, for once, in light salads served with vinegar and oil.

Once the food is gone, there is a speech from the Lord and Lady about how, even under the sinister threat of Seffon, loves and alliances can be forged. Jeno seems happy, but Leah looks for the lie under her face. Surprised, she can’t see any lie; the girl seems happy to be handed to Samson, whom she now sits beside for the meal, despite the fact that the boy seems about twelve. Seeing this as her chance to ask, she leans over to Iris.

“The age difference seems a bit much,” she says, leadingly.

“Samson’s got baby-fat; he’s actually fifteen.” Iris says through a mouthful of pigeon.

“So Jeno isn’t that much older than him,” Leah half-asks.

“Five years is still enough, I agree with you, especially at that age.” Leah calculates that Jeno is twenty.

Meredith scoffs. “‘At that age’…not that we’re much older.”

Leah takes the risk and presses. “Pardon my absent memory, but how old are we?”

Iris laughs, as does Meredith. “If you’d ever told us how old you were, then we’d know.” Meredith says, while Iris points to each member with her knife and lists ages.

“Twenty-nine,” pointing at Vivitha; “Thirty,” pointing at Meredith; “Twenty-six,” pointing at herself; “Twenty-four.” pointing at Kain.

Leah nods along, and assumes that she’s probably twenty-six in this world too.

“It seems like a forced match, to me,” Kain says with a shrug. “This feels like a power-grab from the Valerids, wanting to have blood ties to a Cheden ducal line.”

Meredith pinches Kain’s side and the fencer squirms with a sour face, then falls silent.

After supper, Leah escorts Jeno to her rooms, alongside the Duke and Duchess. She walks nervously, feeling herself inept in such company, but can’t help but listen in curiously as they talk. Jeno’s parents discuss plans for contacting their relatives at home to say how well it went; the Duchess mentions cousins in the capital, but gives no more specific details. Eventually they slip into a foreign language, and Leah can no longer eavesdrop.

Jeno seems happy as she is left off at her rooms, and Leah knows this time not to verbally wish her a good night, but just to bow. The Duke and Duchess nod politely to Leah and wish her goodnight; uncertainly, she bows to them as well, and waits for them to turn and leave before leaving herself.

She heads back to her rooms, which she has figured out are a quarter of the way around the estate, and not accessible by the same level; she must go all the way down to the ground floor, across the courtyard, then back up to the second, or else use the twisting servant’s passage she accidentally used the night before. While passing through the garden section of the centre courtyard, she is suddenly pulled aside and into the shelter of a rose trellis. Leah stumbles but catches herself, and peers through the low light.

The blonde serving woman tugs her arm, leading her along a path between bare thorny twigs. She pulls Leah down and into a shaded corner where they can barely see each other.

“I have heard rumours – people say that your memories have left you, since Seffon captured you – but no-one knows how much, and I have to know for myself: do you remember me?” She stumbles through this in one long breath, finishing very quietly.

Leah fumbles for words. “I don’t,” she says finally, apologetic. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anything. I’d be delighted to get to know you again.”

The woman laughs. “Always the charmer…”

Leah blushes in spite of herself. The woman seems sad, though, and begins listing things she wants Leah to remember:

“You promised me you’d carry me away from here when your contract was done and Seffon was defeated? You told me I looked like the harvest goddess and you wanted to dress me in peridot gowns? You sent me a note in that awful scrawl of yours, telling me to meet you here, the first night you confessed your feelings? You asked me at breakfast the first day you arrived if we had any blueberry jam, as a code to see if I was also a woman-lover?”

Leah shakes her head, especially at the last bit. “What do blueberries have to do with anything?”

“Dark purple is a code-colour for deviants in Valerin. People associate it with royalty for the expensiveness of the dye colour, but it is also a colour of the Lady of Murk, and cheaply found in the stains from squashed blueberries. Something noble, found in something humble.”

Leah can’t understand the association but memorises this detail.

“You can’t remember anything?” The hope fades from the woman’s voice, leaving only dull heartbreak, and Leah feels for her.

Foolishly, she says, “Not even your name.”

The woman leans her head on Leah’s shoulder despondently, and whispers, “Kimry.”

Leah repeats it.

“Say it again,” the woman says, and Leah does. “Again.”

Leah tilts Kimry’s face up to hers and kisses her, gently, just barely touching lips. The other woman leans in toward her, and Leah opens her lips just a bit, letting the kiss grow deeper but only slowly. She keeps one hand on Kimry’s face, and runs the other over her hair, all the way down until she is holding Kimry’s lower back and pulling her closer. She pulls back from the kiss, heart pounding.

“Kimry.”

“Leah.”

She moves down to Kimry’s neck – slow kisses, exploratory kisses, teasing. Kimry whimpers softly, and Leah chuckles, pulling back.

Leah stands and pulls Kimry up. “Where to?”

Kimry grabs Leah’s hand and leads her down the servants’ hallways. They sneak through, avoiding any other servants or staff, and into Kimry’s cramped cubby of a room – a door, a palm-sized window, and a straw mattress.

Kimry starts pulling off Leah’s dress before the door is even fully closed. She thankfully has more experience with the fashion of this world, and her fingers slide through the knots, undoing laces in seconds. Leah lifts off the outer layer, letting it fall to a crumpled pile on the floor.

In the time it takes her to remove it, Kimry has undone the clasp at the neck of her servant’s gown and pulled it off, fully baring her chest – full but not over-generous – down to her hips, curving out from her waist, a pair of loose shorts the last thing left on. Kimry undoes the string holding them up and lets them fall, stepping out of them.

Leah realises that she is frozen with her arms crossed over her head, having forgotten what she was doing mid-removal of her slip. Kimry smirks a bit. Leah’s face burns.

“Ohh, fuck,” Leah says, pulling off the slip and pulling Kimry down to the bed with her, lying back and holding the other woman’s hips, thumbs running over the line where her thighs meet her pelvis. Kimry bends over and brushes Leah’s hair away from her face, her own hanging like a curtain over their heads.

They resume the kiss, Kimry nibbling Leah’s lower lip and tracing her fingertips over Leah’s temples, through her hair, behind her ears, and under her chin. Her nipples just brush against Leah’s skin, tickling her.

Leah curls her hands over Kimry’s rear, then down her thighs, fingertips stroking the soft skin between. She scoots Kimry’s knees forward a bit, then breaks the kiss off to talk.

“Move up,” Leah says.

“Hm?”

Leah tugs again. “Move up.”

Kimry shifts to kneeling on either side of Leah’s head; Leah tucks her arms in and reaches up from behind to hold Kimry’s waist, guiding her down.

She lets out a very soft breath as Leah’s tongue runs along her slit. Leah strokes her back gently, continuing the slow licks for a while before pulling Kimry down a bit further and sliding her tongue between. She slides her hands around to the front, running over Kimry’s stomach, and Kimry leans back to reach one hand to Leah’s slit, spreading it just barely with a finger and tracing the wet skin within.

Her finger curls a bit as it passes over Leah’s clit at the end of each stroke, pressing and releasing, causing Leah’s legs to twitch, her knees to spread, her hips to buck up. Kimry takes advantage to press slowly deeper, then begins making slow but very firm circles around Leah’s clit. Leah moans with her tongue pressed up firm against Kimry’s clit and feels the same heat and intensity shiver up Kimry’s spine.

Footsteps pass by the hall outside occasionally, and Kimry is palpably holding back moans. Leah tries to go easy, keeping her movements slow and gentle, running her fingers down to Kimry’s thighs and then gripping them more firmly, keeping her in place. Kimry leans her forearm against the wall, her core tensing sporadically when Leah presses more narrowly against one spot or another. The pressure of her fingers over Leah’s sex is steady, though, and her movements are growing firmer. Leah returns the favour by rubbing the tip of her tongue sharply back and forth just above Kimry’s clit before continuing with the same hard pressure along the length of Kimry’s slit.

Partway along Kimry lets out a tiny squeak then bites the back of her hand, breathing heavily. Leah takes her guidance from this, and dwells over that spot, just at the edge of her opening, pressing slowly forward and in with just the tip of her tongue. Kimry whimpers and presses herself lower, pushing against Leah’s hold; Leah resists for a couple strokes more, then lets her sink down, at the same time plunging her tongue in as far as it can reach, licking back up and over to her clit while Kimry trembles.

Tracing the same path over with the blade of her tongue, Leah speeds up gradually, pressing harder. Kimry’s circling finger starts moving irregularly, the sparks of pleasure unexpected and intense as she rubs, and Leah for a moment almost loses concentration. With her other hand she reaches down and grabs the back of Leah’s head, forcing her up, and Leah squeezes Kimry’s thighs, pulling her down and flicking her tongue at the end of every pass. She reaches one hand over and spreads Kimry’s folds, opening her mouth to apply a broad, gentle pressure along a pass – slowed down, teasing.

She can feel Kimry’s thighs tensing on either side of her head, can hear her breathing getting choppy. With one finger drawing tight circles around Kimry’s clit she goes back to the short, firm licks, not letting up until Kimry’s fingers pulling at her hair begin to hurt and she’s moaning into her own shoulder to keep quiet. Leah continues a few passes more until she begins to worry that Kimry’s self-control will break, and then a few more for good measure, watching the shivers travel across her body, and feeling them in the toned thighs to either side of her head.

Leah detangles Kimry’s hand from her hair and holds it, fingers interlaced, as she eases up the pressure very gradually. Kimry’s breathing evens out, punctuated by occasional half-gasps. When Kimry’s grasp on Leah’s hand has loosened and become comfortable, Leah pulls away.

Kimry side-steps over and collapses next to her, taking slow and intentional breaths. She reaches an arm over Leah’s chest and pulls herself closer for a kiss, which Leah eagerly turns to accept, tongue sliding over the inner edges of Kimry’s lips, reaching a hand to pull a stray wisp of blonde hair away from her face.

Breaking the kiss off with a last nibble at Leah’s lower lip, Kimry falls back with a contented sigh, draping a leg over Leah’s hip; Leah reaches over to grab it gently, and tucks her other arm behind her head, leaving her bicep as a pillow for Kimry.

Leah breathes in deeply and rubs her thumb over the fine hairs on Kimry’s thigh. The warmth of the hot spring baths, only a level below them, heats the room pleasantly, and Leah allows herself to drift off for the moment.

Kimry pulls her back to the present by tracing her fingers gently over Leah’s thighs, not quite touching her slit. Leah breathes in sharply and tilts her head back, eyes closed; Kimry leans in to kiss her neck, and at the same slides two of her fingers down and into Leah’s sex, walking them against her walls and curling up to press into the sensitive places inside her.

Leah’s hand flies up to catch the moan that escapes her lips, and then chuckles from behind it, pressing her hips and against Kimry’s hand. “You caught me by surprise,” she chastises.

“Then you really have forgotten,” Kimry says, lifting herself to kiss Leah’s lips, then cheek, then earlobe; fluttering, gentle kisses, full of affection and teasing.

All the while her fingers stroke firmly, reaching deep and then curling up in turns, never letting up. The intensity builds more quickly than Leah expects, and soon it is her turn to be biting back moans and writhing, her thighs tensing and trembling. Kimry’s breath is hot against her neck, her body pressed firm against Leah’s side, soft and yet insistent.

Her thumb rubs over the slick surface of Leah’s sex, with broad but gentle pressure, increasing with every plunge of her fingers and then lessening to a feather-light touch as she withdraws. Leah tries at first to hold back, but then lets herself be carried far away by the feeling, giving up all thought, becoming only her body – her pounding heart, her clutching hands, her boiling insides.

Kimry stops abruptly when Leah has passed her peak; she switches her focus to gently tracing around her clit, and leans back over to kiss Leah, lips sliding but tongue never darting out further than the tip, teasing and tickling and somehow grounding her back in the present moment. Leah reaches up a hand to hold Kimry’s face, sweaty and warm.

They separate and lie back against the mattress, tangled together, the air warm and humid but the darkness cool.

*

Once her heart rate is back down, Leah rolls over Kimry and grabs her clothing from the ground, fumbling in the dark to get dressed.

“This is the first time we’ve been so brave as to do it in the servants’ quarters,” Kimry says shyly, and Leah turns back to the faint silhouette on the bed.

“Where do we usually go?” Leah asks, pulling the slip over her head and tugging the hem down into place.

Kimry tilts her head, and Leah thinks that she might be blushing. “The stable hayloft, the blind spot on the bank under the south bridge, the rose garden…”

It is Leah’s turn to blush. She finishes putting on the outer layer, settles her hair in place, and hurries to leave. At the door she stops, then rushes back to give Kimry a last kiss. Kimry seems in love as she falls back to the mattress after the kiss breaks off.

Leah follows the path back to the courtyard, and stops by the small fountain on the edge of the garden, splashing icy water over her face and rubbing vigorously. She takes another handful and rinses out her mouth a few times, spitting into the flowerbeds. The courtyard is silent.

Leah sighs and sits on the bench facing the fountain. The water trickles musically down the stone basins, with barely any true water pressure, but it is clean and fresh. She rinses her mouth again, then leans forward and stares up toward the keep, through the falling water.

This is potentially dangerous, Leah thinks, watching the water twinkle in the moonlight, blurring the lines of the estate walls. I have no idea how immoral or illegal homosexuality is in Valerin, or in this entire world. There seems to be an established precedent for it, judging by the blueberry thing, yet Kimry said “code” and “deviants.”

She shakes her hands dry and hurries back to her rooms, guessing the way in the dark. Back in her chambers she goes to the washbasin and takes the soap, cleaning away the last traces, rinsing again, drying off with her towel. Her efforts barely done, there is a knock on her door. Panicking slightly, she smoothes her dress and opens it a crack.

Jeno rushes in, her breathing choppy, babbling. “Leah! I’ve been waiting and knocking every ten minutes, hoping you would be back from the debriefing soon, I couldn’t think where else you might be, I almost went and asked the others in case there was something wrong, but then I thought I might miss you here – ”

“Jeno,” Leah catches her gently by the shoulders, stilling her. “What’s wrong?”

Jeno throws herself at Leah, wrapping her arms tight around her waist. “It’s been done. You promised to take me away before the announcement, and I knew we were just pretending but I still hoped, except now it’s too late, and it would shame my family, but there’s still one last night before I’m given my formal rooms in the estate as a future wife.”

Leah feels a mounting sense of dread. “What do you mean?”

“I’m tired of stealing glances and holding hands in the stable and kissing under the blind spot at the north bridge,” Jeno gushes.

North bridge? I thought…well I guess a fighter would have to know where the blind spots are in the defence of the estate… Leah rationalises desperately.

Jeno pulls away and reaches up to take Leah’s face. “I want one night to be loved by someone who truly loves me.”

Leah knows what this means, but does not want to believe it. “Jeno…” Leah pries the girl’s hands away gently. “Jeno, you’re too young to make these decisions. What you’re suggesting has consequences, if we – ”

“I’m too young to be locked into a loveless marriage, but I have no choice in it. I want this night with you, please – that I do choose.” Jeno holds Leah’s hand in both of hers, whispering the words over her knuckles.

“I…that’s a valid point, but I…” Leah sits Jeno down on the bed. “Jeno, do you know what the consequences are if we get caught?”

Jeno leans her head on Leah’s shoulder, tucking herself under Leah’s chin, and wraps an arm around her back to hold her waist. “I don’t care.”

“You should. You don’t know what…” Leah trails off. No, I don’t know what. I have no idea what I’m doing here. I have no idea how to – oh good lord.

Leah flinches as Jeno’s hand trails up and over her chest, gently cupping a breast. “Jeno, please,” Leah takes the hand away.

“Leah,” Jeno shuffles to sit facing her, eyes serious. “Please.”

Leah hesitates, then takes Jeno’s face in her hands and kisses her forehead. “No, love.”

Jeno catches Leah’s right arm and pulls her hand away. Never breaking eye-contact, she begins kissing Leah’s wrist, moving up slowly.

Leah’s spine tingles, and her fingers twitch. Jeno’s brown hair falls so softly around her face, and her lips press so gently against Leah’s skin. Leah takes a deep breath, then takes Jeno’s face in her hands again. “Go back to your room. Your life hasn’t ended just because of an announcement.”

“But – ”

Leah pulls Jeno close into a hug, breathing deeply. She wraps one arm around her, and the others she lets wander – fingers tracing down Jeno’s neck, then between her breasts, then down to her hip and along her thigh. Jeno’s breath catches. Leah hitches up the hem of Jeno’s dress and slides a hand up underneath, fingertips tracing the dip where her thighs meet. Jeno spreads her leg slightly, and Leah stops just short of her sex, tracing little circles on the sensitive skin of Jeno’s inner thighs.

“Not tonight, my dear; not tonight. There will be other times – safer times. I am not leaving, just because you are getting married. And we will be together before I go.”

Jeno exhales deeply, leaning into Leah. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Leah withdraws her hand, and Jeno deflates a little bit. “Now please. Go.”

Jeno finally accepts this compromise, and stands, smoothing her dress. She kisses Leah’s hand, lips trailing all the way down her fingers, before finally letting go and leaving.

The moment the door closes, Leah faints back onto the mattress and groans quietly. Well, here’s one thing that’s for certain about this world: this world’s Leah is an awful person.