When Sammy went back to the room, Julie was pretending to sleep. At least, Sammy thought so, very familiar with how Julie’s sleeping breaths actually sounded. Not only that, but the two beds had been pushed together. Sammy smiled to herself. There was a lot of room for doubts in her head from all the thinking she did, so these moments, these signs meant the world to her.

Playing along, Sammy snuggled under the blanket without a word. However, she wouldn’t give up her little indulgences without being told, softly feeling around until she found Julie’s hand.

“Goodnight, Lia. I love you,” Sammy whispered, squeezing Julie’s hand.

Though Julie didn’t speak, she replied with a gentle squeeze.

In the morning, Sammy woke up when Julie left the bed, but didn’t make a fuss of it. Instead, she let Julie dress and leave and then she went for another bath. A small blessing, she thought, it was a natural hot spring, no need to ask for the staff to heat it or wait for certain times. Still, she found a heavy wish building in her chest, a desire to come back here again. The bath felt lonely, and she wanted to try a sauna.

Not to mention the thought of spending an entire day naked but for a towel seemed so… freeing. She’d felt so close to Julie when they’d danced. How she thought about it, things like insecurities were a lot more difficult to discard while dressed. Clothes, privileges, titles—nothing more than decorations hung on people who were, at heart, all the same. Just that, given time, some of those decorations were heavy enough to misshape the person they were hung on.

Idly drawing circles on the surface of the water, she watched the ripples. How misshapen was she? Because the biggest problem with people, she knew, was that their eyes were inside their head and it took more than a mirror for them to truly see themselves.

With a sigh, she sunk down until the water came to her chin. If it wasn’t considered poor manners, she would have slid under and let the hot water wash across her face. Well, honestly, she didn’t care about the poor manners part, more that the water was (in a sense) public bath water.

After a short soak, she got out, dried off, dressed up, and walked to the ro’can’s lounge. She only took a step inside, looking around. She saw Yewry at the far end, sitting with Yo’can, and another group of people—other guests. Who she didn’t see was Julie. Just as she was turning around, though, Yewry noticed her.

“Ah, Sammy!”

Sammy managed to stop the spike of frustration from showing. Putting on a polite smile, she said, “Good morning.”

Yewry had beckoned Sammy over, but it quickly became obvious Sammy wasn’t coming. Yewry got to her feet with a huff. Still, her strides as she walked were controlled and she didn’t let her smile drop.

Once Yewry reached Sammy, though, she looked to the side, frowning. “Where is Mist—Miss Julie?” she asked.

After a second, Yewry looked back at Sammy and noticed the stare. It was not a heavy stare, nor was it intimidating, but it was a stare that made her think twice about saying any more.

“Where she is is none of your concern now, is it not?”

Despite her good grasp of Sonlettian, Yewry still needed a moment to understand the sentence, a moment more to understand it. Embarrassment threatening to spill, she spoke without thinking twice. “Why are you both even pretending to be lovers?”

Yewry looked away as soon as she finished speaking and didn’t dare look back, more willing to suffer the ensuing silence than the stare.

After a handful of seconds, Sammy said, “It is not my responsibility to convince you of the truth. You are welcome to be wrong again.”

So used to being answered, Yewry felt a twinge of annoyance at that reply, but clamped it down; if nothing else, the two weeks of travel had taught her how to do that well. Besides, when she thought about it, it was a reasonable answer. Sammy had no obligation to explain anything. If they wanted to pretend to be lovers, that was their affair.

Sammy took the growing silence as the end of the conversation. She turned around, missing the flicker of hesitation from Yewry, then walked back to the lobby. There hadn’t been a back door in the lounge and she’d seen Julie leave with her sword, so Sammy stepped outside and leisurely strolled along the edge of the building.

Following a narrow path, she circled around to the back where there was a small flower garden, looping paths lined with flowerbeds. It was beautiful, but she looked at the bare trees and knew it would be even more beautiful in a couple of months. She’d seen so many flowers, loved so many flowers, but had yet to see all the blossoms, trees a bit harder to move.

Well, perhaps her expectations were too high. Dworfen was such a different language to Schtish that only the best poetry and literature were translated and those were translated by very capable people. That said, if even a translation was so pretty, she would have loved to see the beautiful sight that could inspire such works.

For now, the camellias had come in, such a delicate shade of pink, looking like marzipan. She noticed violets too, but they were only on the cusp of blooming, no flowers yet. It would be a while before the next wave, she thought. There were the familiar stems of roses and tulips, and even a whole patch of poppies and vegetableseed (an awkward mistranslation that had stuck), which made such a wonderful meadow in her imagination. The perfect place for a picnic.

“Sammy?”

Hearing that, Sammy turned to the side to see Julie walking over, sword sheathed. What a beautiful sight that was: Julie sparkled in the morning sun with a sheen of sweat upon her face. From all the time they’d spent travelling, her skin had deepened in colour, reminding Sammy of their first meeting—of the frustrated girl swinging a training sword far too large for such a small child. Such a pretty shade for skin, warm, going so well with her loose hair, and it emphasised her soft lips—and Sammy knew how soft they were.

But, Julie coming to a stop just a step away, what Sammy really loved was touching those cheeks. And she did. She slowly brought up her hand and cupped Julie’s cheek, letting her fingers taste the sweat.

“I’m dirty right now,” Julie shyly mumbled, yet made no attempt to stop Sammy.

Still, Sammy understood and took back her hand. Then she leaned in, waiting a moment to see if Julie protested before giving her a peck on the lips, conscious that they didn’t have the most privacy here.

“That one is for last night and I am still waiting for my good morning kiss,” Sammy whispered.

Julie fought the urge to shiver, that low voice tickling her ear, swirling around in her chest. As she got more used to that feeling, she liked it more and more. It quieted the doubts. When she felt like that, she started to only think about giving Sammy whatever she wanted.

And right now, Sammy wanted a kiss. So Julie gave her one. She stepped forward, tilting her head a little to the side, and kissed Sammy. There was no thinking, just the warm sensation on her cold lips, Sammy’s lips so soft, yet firm.

It was only a few seconds—but what long seconds they were—before Sammy pulled away, her hot breaths tickling Julie’s damp lips. “We should carry on with this in our room.”

Like cold water, that sobered Julie up quickly, all the more so because of the chill in the air and sweat on her face. “Y-yeah,” she mumbled.

The fading desire in Julie’s eyes was plain for Sammy to see. After all, she’d spent her adolescence trying to stoke such desires in her peers. Although it was disappointing, she knew that fires began with such sparks.

So she gently held Julie’s free hand and massaged it. Whatever tension had been building up in Julie melted away, Sammy joking to herself that it was like she’d trained Julie. She then tugged Julie forward, saying, “Yewry should leave you alone now, but she has helped you practice a lot of Sonlettian, hasn’t she?”

Walking alongside each other, Julie listened, wincing at first, then nodding. “I guess?” she said.

“When we leave Dworfen, we will go to very northern part of Sonlettier before crossing into Formadgo. Their language is rather similar to Sonlettian and many Formadgians speak Sonlettian too, so you should be able to make use of what you’ve practised,” Sammy said.

The distraction had worked perfectly, Julie now entirely focused on this as she thought of a few questions; Sammy was happy to answer them.

But that only lasted the short walk back to the lobby. As soon as they walked inside, Julie looked around and, seeing Yewry, her hands clenched. Sammy knew it wasn’t out of anger. No, she could feel the slightest trembling—or at least she believed she could.

Yewry looked over at that moment and their gazes met. Julie glanced down, hesitating with her next step, falling a step behind Sammy. And Sammy followed that, putting herself between Julie and Yewry while staring at Yewry.

It was so very funny, Yewry thought, in a not very funny way. Now that she knew Mister Julie was Miss Julie, the boyish appearance had lost all of its disguise. Such feminine mannerisms. If anything, she thought, it would have made more sense for Sammy to play the man. Sammy just had a masculine personality, not to mention she was so protective and assertive. Yewry knew well that women liked those traits—of course, she based that on her own experiences—hence why she herself tried to emulate them.

Yewry couldn’t even remember when or why she’d started doing that, but, if she could, it had been many years ago. As a child, her friends had always been so excited to see her brothers, had always said they wished to have a brother like that. A seed now long since fruited.

“Miss Julie just needs a moment to freshen up and then we shall be ready to leave,” Sammy said.

“Understood,” Yewry said, slipping on a polite smile. She watched with some amusement as those two walked towards their rooms, Sammy seemingly shepherding her little lamb. But it was not a happy kind of amusement.

Yo’can cleared her throat. “Ma’am?” she softly said in Dworfen.

Yewry shook her head. “Ready up to leave soon,” she said.

“Understood.”

It was in a very heavy silence that the group later left, only the sound of hooves on cobblestone to break the silence, the odd twitter of birdsong. Unlike before, Sammy kept between Yewry and Julie until, Yewry finding it awkward, she urged her horse to the front, joining Yo’can. Sammy thought about talking, but, when she looked, Julie seemed to be fine and at attention.

Smiling to herself, Sammy thought it funny that Julie was her guard. There wasn’t a particular reason why that was funny to her, just that, well, it was funny. That little girl really had grown up to become a Royal Guard.

However, Sammy then realised that, when they married, Julie really would be a royal guard. Well, if princesses could be heroes, a princess guard perhaps wasn’t so strange. But Sammy supposed that Julie would probably be called a princess consort, not that she planned on ever going anywhere that would require them to be announced. Besides, in her eyes, they were equals, so she had no need for qualifiers like “consort”.

No, they would be wife and wife.

Amusing herself with such thoughts, the day passed quietly for the most part, all that was said relating to breaks for the horses and other mundane things. Coming to a town near dusk, Yewry arranged for their rooms at an inn on the outskirts of the town.

Retiring to their room until dinner, Sammy and Julie put down their packs, then they both looked over at each other, breaking into a giggle after a second. Sammy opened her arms and Julie shuffled over, letting Sammy bring her into a tight embrace.

And they stayed like that. Sammy gently ran her hands through Julie’s short hair, finding it a bit oily, but that didn’t bother her, the soft moans Julie let out more than enough. As Julie lost herself to the ministrations, her eyes fluttered closed, arms tightened around Sammy.

Peace, such peace.

Sammy couldn’t help the greediness that swelled up, though, turning her head to leave a kiss below Julie’s cheek, just on the jawline. Music to her ears, she heard the little breath Julie drew in.

“May I have you for dinner tonight?” Sammy whispered, punctuating her question with another kiss.

Julie couldn’t think straight, but that question made her at least try to think. Only, every time she repeated that question in her head, she grew shyer until, finally, she let go of Sammy.

Sammy took a deep breath to settle herself, then lowered her hands and stepped back. However, her gaze lingered on Julie, waiting for Julie to look at her. When Julie finally did, she smiled and said, “I love you.”

That made Julie feel all the more shy, yet it was almost like a different kind of shyness. Instead of shying away, she felt a giddiness bubble up and happily stared back at Sammy, a small smile on her lips.

Too tempting, Sammy leaned in and left a kiss on those lips. Julie gladly accepted it.

So much had changed, Sammy thought, and she hoped more would too.

Like the day had been, dinner was quiet with little said by the time everyone returned to their rooms. Mindful of the liberties she’d taken, Sammy didn’t ask any more of Julie and just held her hand, falling asleep with a smile.

The next morning, Yewry had recovered some of her composure. Although she still left Julie alone, she brought up a few topics with Sammy, talking in little chats as they trotted along the roads through the near-endless forests of Dworfen.

Sammy kept an eye out the whole time, hoping to see an orchard of plum trees. But she wasn’t entirely sure if they had blossomed yet, going on information she’d long-ago read, knowing that the different regions would have their own schedules. Still, she wanted to see the beauty of Dwofen’s blossoms. Not quite: she wanted to see the blossoms with Julie, to make a beautiful memory with her precious jewel.

Their small caravan stopped for lunch at a small town, one of the few with a blacksmith. Sammy talked to Julie about it, explaining the huge difference in culture that resulted from the island’s poor sources of iron and coal—the focus on archery and spears (too expensive to mass-produce swords), the smaller roads (wagons were far more of a luxury), the extremely intricate ornaments made of, for example, tin alloys (a lot more everyday things were made of metals that could be worked when cold).

Sammy had quickly realised she wasn’t being all that interesting, but, whether or not it was genuine, Julie looked interested. So Sammy recited the countless little things she’d long-ago learned.

A mugginess came with the midday heat, worrying Yo’can. “There may be a storm soon.”

Nodding, Yewry deferred to her guard’s experience. “What would be best for us to do? Stay here?” she asked.

Yo’can hesitated, then shook her head, watching the direction the clouds blew. “It should start behind us.”

“We will be mindful and ready to act, then,” Yewry said, a finality to her tone.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

It hadn’t exactly been a secret conversation, Sammy overhearing all that. She quietly translated what was said for Julie and then turned her gaze to the heavens. The clouds didn’t look particularly ready to rain, but she couldn’t speak with any authority on the matter and was happy to defer to Yo’can as well.

With their eyes on the sky, they set off again, heading out of the town and back into the forests. It wasn’t ten minutes before they couldn’t even see the buildings behind them any more, nothing but trees and a dirt road. At times, even the sky disappeared, the tree canopy reaching over the road.

After so many days travelling, the sight was lulling, hard to focus on any spot when all the trees blended together. The afternoon was awfully quiet too. There was the odd person on the road, a couple of hamlets a little off the beaten path, but otherwise just a silence.

A deep, heavy silence.

One hour, two, then they stopped to give the horses a break. Julie checked over her horse. These days, if anything, Hope was agitated by the slow pace, always full of energy whenever she checked. But Faith still had a calm demeanour and Julie wondered if that was from the difference in her and Sammy’s personalities.

Once all the horses were fed, watered, and rested, they carried on. However, none were spared from the humidity, every face lightly coated in sweat. It confused Julie. She was used to the hot weather of Schtat, sure that this was much colder, but the muggy air clung to her far worse than it ever had before; if only they could have gone fast enough to feel a breeze.

Uncomfortable as she was, her attention had long slipped. She picked at her clothes, trying to let some air in, adjusting wherever it rubbed, thinking she’d have to put on some chafing cream at some point—thankful that she had always kept some on hand after that first incident with Sammy.

“Halt!” Sammy whispered in Dworfen, holding up her hand.

Julie didn’t know what Sammy had said, but recognised the signal. Jerked out of her thoughts, though, her senses were too sensitive, unable to make sense of what she was looking for, unable to make out any sounds.

“Into position,” Sammy said as she dismounted her horse.

Glancing back, she was relieved to see Yewry’s guards fall into a defensive triangle around Yewry, weapons at their sides.

Turning to Julie, her relief hesitated until her trust settled her. “At attention,” she said in Schtish.

Instantly, Julie seemed to focus, her eyes sharper and posture firming up. In the second it took Sammy to walk over, Julie scanned the wall of trees.

“You know the situation,” Sammy said.

Julie finished her scan and then turned, looking down at Sammy, nodding. “A wild beast.” She couldn’t see it, but she read Sammy’s actions. Knowing what they were dealing with, she also dismounted and helped Sammy to untie the wrapped war bow from her horse. Once the wrap was free, she left Sammy to unwrap it and went to get a quiver.

Only, when she brought out the quiver of arrows, Sammy looked at her and stilled. That scared Julie.

Sammy’s head snapped to the side, trying to keep her voice from hurrying as she asked in Dworfen, “War arrows—did you bring war arrows?”

Go’eh at the front shook his head, Yo’can on the near side also shook her head, as did Kaygo on the far side.

Sammy cursed under her breath, a harsh word Julie hadn’t imagined a princess would have ever even heard. But it was, in a way, more comforting than that moment of panic before. Over an impossibly long second, a dozen emotions flickered across Sammy’s face. Then, finally, she settled into a blank expression.

“Julie, this one is larger. More clever. I feel it has followed us for perhaps days, patiently waiting,” she whispered.

A shiver ran down Julie’s spine, but she didn’t let it show. “What are my orders?”

Sammy eyed a rough spot between the trees, not yet able to see it. “Be ready with a shield and hold my sword. If it charges, I will strike it down.”

Julie felt a twinge of something inside her, an urge to disagree trying to spur her tongue, but she held it back. Her job was to keep Sammy safe and this was how she would do that. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Moving without thinking, Julie followed her orders and untied her larger shield, took out Sammy’s sword. Unlike her backsword, this one had two sharp edges, the quality of the metal also better, but it was still fairly short to fit in a pack. It felt heavy in her off-hand. Then she led the horses to the other three, keeping a clear area around herself and Sammy.

“Ready, Ma’am.”

Sammy stood tall, quiver on her hip, the heavy war bow loose at her side, a lone arrow in her other hand. Her heart couldn’t decide whether to beat fast or slow. There were too many trees, too many shadows. Every rustle grabbed her attention. Too silent, that silence too loud. All she could hear was her own pulse in her ear and Julie’s measured breaths.

The world stood still, but the wild beast didn’t.

Gaze constantly flickering, Sammy followed the feeling she had, watching where her senses told her the wild beast was. There wasn’t a sense of how far away it was, just that it was coming closer. So she had to rely on her own instincts to know when to draw the bow.

One second, ten, a minute passing in oppressive silence.

One second, two—

A wave of pressure crashed against Sammy, trying to root her in place—trying to.

In a single motion, she raised the bow and pulled back the arrow, tendrils of divine power spiralling around it, and she shouted, “Hold!”

A terrible screech cut through the silence as a blur of black crashed through the canopy, droplets of ooze trailing behind it. It was headed straight down for Sammy, some ten strides above her, arms wide.

But Sammy didn’t wait, loosing the arrow as soon as it showed itself. With a deep twang, the bolt of white disappeared, faster than a blur, one moment there and the next deep in the wild beast’s head. And she didn’t stop, picking another arrow from the quiver as she hopped back, drawing and loosing it before the wild beast had hit the floor.

Like water thrown in boiling oil, the ooze spewed wildly from the wound, hissing, and billowing smoke quickly engulfed it.

Sammy loosed another arrow, and another, and another, firing them blindly as she kept moving back. And every time she fired an arrow, Julie was at her side with the shield up, wisps of smoke rising from it.

After six arrows, the roiling smoke stopped moving forward. Sammy stilled, but stayed at the ready, arrow nocked. Gradually, the air started to clear. Beneath that smog was like an orangutan dipped in tar, the wild beast’s arms and legs gangly, body stout. And the divine power ate at it as though burning, the white light spreading and bubbling and smoking.

With one arrow in the head and four spread across its torso, the wild beast was quickly consumed, not even leaving behind ash. There was only a short trail of scorched earth to show that it had ever existed.

Julie didn’t relax, her gaze darting to each of her companions and the horses, checking they were okay. Although shocked, they otherwise looked fine. So she turned her attention to Sammy, saw the deep breaths Sammy took, the small welts on her face that were already fading, the drips of blood from her fingertips.

“Are there more?” Julie asked.

After a second, Sammy shook her head.

Julie carefully put down the shield and sword on the ground, then near enough leapt at Sammy, sending her staggering a couple of steps before she could catch her balance. Julie hugged her tight, painfully tight, face buried in the crook of her neck. And Sammy couldn’t do anything, still holding the war bow and arrow.

“It’s okay,” Sammy whispered.

Julie’s fingertips dug into her, painful, but thankfully Julie kept her nails short.

Realising her mistake, Sammy softly smiled, then whispered, “I’m okay.”

One second, ten, half a minute passing before Julie finally relaxed. “Okay.”

Sammy carefully broke out of the loose hug, walked over to the horses, and wrapped up the war bow once more. When she went to tie it back onto Julie’s horse, she looked over at Yewry and the guards.

“There will be time later to talk.”

No one objected, no one spoke of it. Not when Sammy and Julie finished putting away their things, nor when they set off, nor when they stopped for a break in the middle of the afternoon, nor when they stabled the horses in the early evening, nor when they sat for dinner.

Even when they all eventually retired for the night, Julie didn’t mention the wild beast, simply snuggling up with Sammy beneath the covers.

Tomorrow, Sammy knew, would be another long day.