Despite what had happened, Sammy managed to tug the reluctant Julie along to lunch—after a quick change. However, Mrs Tory still had plenty to say as a weaver herself.

“She says,” Sammy whispered to Julie, “they often use a knitting needle at the back to hold it all in place.”

Too shy to speak, Julie nodded.

Once the meal was over, Julie started to recover, the two spending the rest of their “day off” simply going around the town. A large trading port, it had plenty of goods from Sonlettier and Formadgo. There were the various shops and old guildhalls (their purpose long lost, now mostly home to taverns and inns) and, at the grand plaza beside the port’s warehouses, a labyrinth of stalls.

It was almost familiar to Julie, reminding her of the big cities along the big three Schtish rivers. This one just as busy as those cities, she held Sammy’s hand tightly, walking so close their hips bumped together near every step.

All the attention Julie paid to staying together gave Sammy the freedom to pick out whatever interesting things she could see, and it was a stall laden with Formadian treats that Sammy soon focused on. There was a short table and a counter, both with a wooden tray of goods, and a middle-aged man behind, hair thinning, unevenly tanned, face white and hands browned, arms somewhere in-between. He had a good merchant’s smile, Sammy thought, inviting without being disingenuous.

“You see, Sonlettier prefers baked goods with their vast farmlands,” Sammy said, gesturing at the breads the neighbouring stall offered. “Whereas Formadgo has a long history of trade with Alfen, their preference sweet cream or custard with bitter desserts.”

Julie looked at the stall in front of them, so confused by the colour that she had to ask, “They… burn them?”

Caught entirely off-guard, Sammy took a long second to reply and, even then, that reply was simply, “No.” After a few more seconds, she managed to put together a more comprehensive answer. “These use what we call chocolate. By itself, it is rather bitter, somewhat similar to coffee. However, it goes rather well with sweet and rich desserts.”

Sammy paused there for a moment, a thought coming to her, soon breaking into a smile.

“You know, I think you will rather love it. Something I heard, perhaps more in jest than true it may be, is that one must take care of her diet when visiting Formadgo as one can eat sweets all day without feeling bloated.”

Julie chuckled, more out of politeness than finding it funny. “Really?”

Sammy hummed, mouth pulled to the side as she thought. “Well, it is true that the chocolate desserts I have tried before were… rather appetising. That may have had more to do with the company, though.”

It was only after Sammy had said that that she realised what company she was speaking of. Turning to Julie, there wasn’t the soft smile she was so used to seeing. Her heart tensed for a moment, unable to think of what to say, fixated on wanting to bring back a smile to her precious jewel.

“Yeah,” Julie quietly said.

Gods, that hurt Sammy to hear, made her all the more lacking for what to say. It was so easy to flirt, but this—this felt like she needed to know Julie much more thoroughly. Was Julie upset that Sammy had courted all those young ladies before, or did Julie take it as being called bad company? Was Julie even upset and maybe just jealous?

Of all the times Sammy felt like she could read Julie’s thoughts, she wished now was such a time. Instead, her own emotions clouded her eyes, a rare moment of doubt where she wondered if she really deserved Julie.

But Sammy couldn’t linger on such an unpleasant thought, falling back on old habits. She leant in close, then whispered into Julie’s ear, “I am sure they will taste even better with you.”

It worked well, the subtle redness creeping up beneath Julie’s tan. Yet Sammy held on to a sliver of regret, feeling like she’d cheated, like she didn’t know Julie well enough—that she hadn’t tried to get to know Julie, had only tried to get Julie.

How was she any better than that stupid squire who had made Julie into a prize? No, Sammy had long known she was no better, having taken Julie’s kiss as a prize herself.

As much as Sammy tried to hide those darker thoughts lurking in the back of her mind, Julie picked up on the strange quietness. So she squeezed Sammy’s hand and asked, “Hey, d’you know what that one’s like?”

None the wiser, Sammy followed where Julie was looking behind the counter. “Oh my, that would be gelato,” Sammy said. “I did not think such a luxury would be here. It is, well, sweet milk that is frozen, but it is more like… warm butter than ice.”

Julie nodded along despite not understanding that last bit. Avoiding that entirely, she asked, “Do you like it?”

Sammy giggled with a hand over her mouth. “Oh I just adore it, yet I would wait until we are in Formadgo to buy some—the price here surely reflects how exotic it is.”

“Okay,” Julie said. She was content now Sammy had cheered up and, well, she wasn’t going to argue over saving money.

So they wandered some more and checked on the horses and snacked a little on battered-and-fried octopus pieces. (Julie was reluctant after being told what an octopus was, but gave in and rather liked the chewiness.) They also found a book merchant, Sammy delighted to trade in the books she’d finished for new ones, and that made Julie shyly ask if they could read some more of her book.

“Of course,” Sammy said with a soft smile.

Back at their room, like always when they read together, Sammy insisted on having Julie sit on her lap, wrapped in a gentle embrace. As always, it was incredibly embarrassing for Julie. Somehow, it was even more so this time, Julie so very conscious of how close they were, gaze constantly drifting to Sammy’s long legs, the fabric pulled tight.

Fortunately, Sammy was there to constantly keep Julie focused with a whispered, “Continue.” That said, Julie didn’t make as much progress as she should have in the two hours they had before dinner.

The next morning, they readied up at dawn, Mrs Tory there to send them off. “Quiet waters,” she said.

Sammy wondered how many times Mrs Tory had said those two words. “We shall be good daughters and send word that we crossed safely,” she said.

Mrs Tory kept looking at Sammy with the same pinched eyes and small smile for a long moment, then she bowed her head, taking in a breath. “Gods bless,” she mumbled.

“No, we are blessed by a stranger’s kindness,” Sammy said, reaching over and holding Mrs Tory’s hands.

Mrs Tory let out a single laugh, then squeezed Sammy’s hands. “What stranger? This old woman is your mother,” she quietly said.

“How quaint it is to have two mothers,” Sammy said, smiling.

Such an unexpected thing to say, Mrs Tory had no answer but to squeeze Sammy’s hands again. “I suppose it is.”

With that, Sammy and Julie finally left. On the way to pick up the horses, Sammy gave Julie the gist of the conversation, her comment about two mothers leaving Julie similarly speechless for a while.

Once they were at the stable and saddling up their horses, Julie spoke. “I don’t know if I had no mother, or a dozen,” she said.

Sammy carefully thought it over. “I would say… family is too nice of a word to be so immutable,” she said.

Julie frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked.

Sammy chuckled to herself. “That is, every word can mean whatever you want it to mean—as long as the person you are talking with knows what you mean. So I think you should call family whomever you so wish. If you loved them, felt safe with them, then, if not mother, they may still be a part of your family.”

That once again brought about a long silence, accompanying them all the way to the docks and aboard the cattle ship. Sammy didn’t mind, silences a necessary part of spending near every moment of every day together, but a touch of loneliness did creep in out on the water, the city’s hubbub dying down. The ship creaked and groaned, current tugging them one way and the wind another, sailors shouted, seabirds sang, waves crashed. Such a loud silence.

As patient as Sammy was, she yearned to know what Julie was thinking about so thoroughly. It was that yearning that made her feel like Julie was so far away despite holding hands. There was a feeling like, if she let go, Julie might disappear.

The world was such a vast place, becoming more vast with every step forward they took. How long would it take to find Julie again?

Falling into silly thoughts, Sammy shook her head and sucked in a deep breath of the sea breeze. Her gaze circled around until it came to the broad sails, so much larger than any she’d seen before; the ship they’d taken to Dworfen had been only about half the size, relying more on rowing than the wind.

“What’s a wife to you?”

Sammy heard those words, but belatedly realised it was Julie speaking to her. She turned to Julie, their eyes meeting, Julie’s expression curious—most curious. Sammy fought the sudden urge to kiss Julie, couldn’t keep her free hand from coming up to caress the side of Julie’s face, running through the hair there. It had been rather short hair at the start of their journey (for a woman), that bit longer now two months had passed. That was most clear with her fringe, sitting just above her eyelashes.

Entranced, Sammy delicately brushed Julie’s fringe to the side, only then remembering the question put to her. “She is… not just the woman I love, but the woman I wish to love for the rest of my life, forever falling in love as the seasons change. A commitment, a promise. The one for whom I would do anything.”

A second passed, then Julie giggled.

Smiling, Sammy asked, “And what is so funny about that?”

Julie shook her head. “Nothing, just… that sounds nice.”

Sammy felt like there was more to it, but she let Julie have this one. Once Julie settled, Sammy asked, “What is a wife to you?”

“Well,” Julie said, drawing out the word, “a wife to me is you. I mean, everything fits, right?”

Sammy thought it through criteria by criteria, finding herself in agreement. It also didn’t escape her notice that this was another indirect admission of love. Gods, she adored Julie.

“So it does,” Sammy softly said, words lost to the breeze.

Julie wasn’t expecting a reply, though, her focus now on the sight she hadn’t taken in yet, in awe of the giant waves that tried to rock the ship. Eventually, she asked Sammy and Sammy was only too happy to share some trivial knowledge.

“While the current pulls north, the wind usually blows south. At least, this is what is thought because these large waves only happen here and between Hufen and Alfen, whereas the ocean elsewhere is, for the most part, docile in comparison.”

Despite Julie nodding, Sammy could see the confusion still on her face. Well, it wasn’t important, so Sammy left it there.

With the rocking and the spray in the air getting worse the farther out the ship went, they soon retreated to a cabin. Although it wasn’t a private cabin, no one joined them, so they cuddled in peace as the ship swayed—except for the moments of panic when they almost lost their balance.

After a few hours, the waters began to calm. They emerged from the cabin looking only a little dishevelled, Sammy holding Julie rather close, her steps still not as steady as she would have liked them to be.

“You really haven’t spent time at sea before?” Sammy asked.

Julie giggled. “Really, I haven’t.”

Sammy sighed and squeezed Julie even tighter. “I shall give up on dancing and we can duel with swords instead,” she said, a noticeable pout in her tone.

Julie laughed again. “I think dancing is better for balance?” she asked.

“However, one learns to dance with a partner to rely on,” Sammy said.

“That’s not such a bad thing,” Julie said, her voice a little softer now.

Sammy took stock of just how close they currently were and lost the will to disagree. “I suppose not,” she mumbled.

Julie smiled, something nice about Sammy acting spoiled, reassuring. It was easy for her to think that she wasn’t even needed on this journey most days, but making the Princess happy was reason enough for her to be at Sammy’s side.

“Tochy!”

Sammy shuffled around at that shout, looking to the horizon ahead of the boat and, sure enough, distant mountains rose above water. “We’re nearly there.”

“Mm,” Julie said.

Slowly but surely, the ship pulled into the Sonlettian port of Battoh and the crew soon had Sammy and Julie on their way, once more on dry land. It was not just some small port town, though. The main trading port of Sonlettier, the docks stretched as far as the eye could see along the coast, warehouses towered as high as a cathedral, every road—despite being broad enough to fit four carriages—at a near standstill, packed full of merchants and traders and anyone else with wares to sell.

It was difficult for them to get through, hindered by their horses. However, Sammy was patient and, even though on foot, seemed like she could see the entire city, leading them this way and that, barely getting stuck waiting.

With some distance between them and the docks, it went from overcrowded to simply crowded. Nothing out of the ordinary for a city. In a more residential area, the houses were similar to back in Hopschtat, narrow and a bit tall, following the small, winding paths.

They weren’t there for sightseeing, though, and found a bakery for a late lunch. Nowhere to put the horses, they ate as they walked, Sammy having chosen a meal specifically for that: a very thin flatbread that was rolled up and kept together with a mildly spicy sauce.

“This is a rather popular trend—if my correspondences were correct,” Sammy said. “Traders bring over a lot of horseradish and mustard from Dworfen, but the people here weren’t used to such spicy condiments, so they blended it with mayonnaise, slowly adjusting the recipe until they made Nen sauce.”

Julie didn’t want to complain, just that she would’ve liked plain old mustard or horseradish better. This sauce was a bit rich for her. But the bread was nice, so was the ham and lettuce. Refreshing after eating so much fish the last month.

Once they finished eating, Sammy asked around and found a place that delivered mail to Dworfen. Making good on her promise, she wrote a letter for Mrs Tory—even had Julie sign it—and paid for it to be sent back over.

Julie liked that. Something she hadn’t noticed too much at the start, Sammy really did have a kind heart.

With that done, they carried on and, when they reached the edge of the city proper, mounted up. The sprawl carried on for a while longer, gradually thinning until, at last, there was just farmland and the odd farm building ahead. To their left, the mountain range they’d seen from the boat made up the border with Formadgo, to their right a vast river that curved south, cutting through the twin capitals near the centre of Sonlettier some thirty horse-hours away.

Hearing Sammy say all that, Julie felt very small. It was like, her being here didn’t change the country, that she couldn’t compare to such big things. Those were all things that went on maps and she wouldn’t even be a fleck.

Travelling along the carriageway, they made good time. Their horses, restless after the stay in a stable, were all too eager to work off their excess energy. Still, they didn’t push on once night began to fall.

Being a major road to Battoh, there were plenty of inns all along it, catering to merchants. The one they stopped at was lively, to put it lightly. Most of the ground floor was a single room and every table had two or three people at it, drink in hand, floor slick with spilled beers and wines, a sweet tinge to the stale smell in the air. Even with Sammy’s clear voice, it took the woman behind the counter a couple of times to hear her properly.

Taking the stairs to their room, Julie clung to Sammy, her grip on the verge of being painfully tight.

“Are you okay?” Sammy whispered.

Julie broke out of her strange mood and relaxed her hand. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Too loud?” Sammy asked.

“Yeah.”

Sammy squeezed Julie’s hand, then let go to open the door. “It should quiet down the farther we get from Battoh.”

“Okay.”

In the short time before their food came up, Sammy did her best to comfort Julie, only that the close embrace and back rub and light kisses over Julie’s cheek and neck led to her becoming… unsettled. When the waitress knocked on their door, Julie was barely stopping herself from fidgeting.

Sammy left Julie with a last kiss on the forehead and went to accept their food. “Mursy,” she said, taking the two trays. The waitress replied with a shallow bow and closed the door.

When Sammy turned around, she was surprised to see Julie hadn’t moved.

“Lia?” she said, a hint of worry creeping in as she thought her comforting hadn’t worked.

Hearing that pet name broke Julie from her daze. Putting on a smile, she said, “Sorry.”

Sammy put on a frown and grumpily said, “I do not wish to hear you apologise again tonight.”

That tugged out a little laugh from Julie. The smile that lingered afterwards was more to Sammy’s taste, so she replied with a smile of her own.

There was only one chair in the room, so Julie moved the table next to the bed, Sammy taking the soft seat. Fortunately, both trays just managed to fit on the table. It was a simple meal of meat-and-vegetable stew with bread, but Julie found it comforting, the taste very Hufen. A couple of months ago, she wouldn’t have thought that Sonlettian food could ever taste nostalgic. Now that she’d had so much Dworfen food, though, she knew just how different food could taste.

But Julie’s thoughts didn’t linger on that. She soon realised she’d worried Sammy, which was very obvious by the little looks Sammy kept giving her. It was funny to her because she felt like she deserved this for thinking earlier how nice it was for Sammy to rely on her.

“You… never kissed my forehead before, not like that,” Julie said.

Sammy looked at her, brow furrowed.

Realising she needed to say more, Julie put down her spoon so her hands could fidget. “I, um, it’s like… it was a different kind of kiss,” she said, not even making sense to herself. “It felt different.”

“Different how?” Sammy softly asked.

Julie’s face scrunched up. “Well, I don’t know…. Your kisses… were hot, but this one, this one was… warm.”

Sammy could have laughed at just how much Julie struggled to say that. She didn’t, though. She loved that Julie was trying so hard to put to words such difficult feelings. Besides, as strange as what Julie had said was, Sammy understood exactly what she meant.

“I should apologise. Although I was trying to help, it seems I couldn’t stop myself from taking liberties,” Sammy said, awkwardly smiling.

“No! No,” Julie said, shaking her head. “I, I didn’t dislike it… but the last one was just… really nice.”

Sammy’s eyes widened a touch, then a smile bloomed on her lips. “Truly?”

“Truly,” Julie said.

Sammy looked down at her bowl, an unusual touch of shyness to her expression. “I shall remember that.”

Julie didn’t know what to say to that, but, seeing Sammy continue eating, she carried on too. It didn’t take long to finish. Sammy took their trays down and returned with drinks: petty wine. Again, Julie was surprised how it could be nostalgic even though she’d only drank a bit when they’d last been in Sonlettier. But it did. Tasted almost sweet too. It was only when she looked at Sammy, though, that she realised it wasn’t really the taste that was nostalgic.

Every bit a princess, Sammy sat so beautifully, the copper cup wrapped in such long, slender fingers, a slight stain on her lips after having a sip. It could have been a painting and Julie wished she could paint to try and keep this moment forever fresh in her mind.

Hardly oblivious to the staring, Sammy smiled, idly swirling the wine around the cup. That little motion hypnotised Julie, enthralled.

“Lia?”

“Mm?” Julie replied, her focus still very much on the cup and that fingers holding it.

Sammy tittered. “What is your favourite colour?” she quietly asked.

It was a strange enough question to break Julie’s focus. She thought it over, but ended up shaking her head. “I don’t know. Like, I never get to choose anything, so it doesn’t really matter.”

That was a strange enough answer for Sammy to think over. A pragmatic answer, one she wouldn’t have thought about. The more she did, the more she realised that, to most commoners, a favourite colour really would just be a good way to disappoint oneself.

Julie kept thinking too, though. “I guess… I like the, you know, the red colour—the ribbon,” she said, failing to put her thoughts in order.

Sammy stilled for a moment, then downed the rest of her drink in a single gulp. Going over to their packs, she asked, “May I dress you up a little?”

Memories of what that had entailed last time brought a deep blush to Julie, cheeks prickling. “O-okay.”

The hesitant reply told Sammy exactly what Julie thought was about to happen, but she didn’t correct Julie’s misconception. Instead, she quickly found what she was looking for: the ribbon and the hair clip. When Julie saw Sammy holding only those, her heart relaxed, a rush of relief washing away the nervousness that had built up.

But perhaps a bit of disappointment remained.

However, what relief Julie did have was short-lived. Sammy came to a stop right in front of her, then began to comb her hair, Sammy running her fingers through. Such a gentle touch, Julie instantly melted under it. Only that, once Sammy had gathered her hair and leaned forwards to tie the ribbon, Julie found her nose very close to Sammy’s chest.

It must have been just a few seconds, but Julie’s heart didn’t dare beat the entire time and a few seconds without her heart beating didn’t exactly feel great.

Sammy, entirely oblivious to what she was putting Julie through, finished up the ponytail and pulled back. For the hair clip, she loosely brushed Julie’s fringe—more playing with it—before carefully sliding the clip in.

“Do you know why I chose this hair clip?” Sammy whispered.

Julie was fortunate she was so easily distracted. She thought it over, but couldn’t come up with anything. It was such a simple hair clip and the glass gem surely couldn’t look good to someone who had grown up around every gem imaginable. So she said, “No.”

Sammy smiled and, an incredible feat, it looked to Julie like the most beautiful smile she had seen yet. “It reminded me of an engagement ring.”

Julie was speechless, but her hand came up to touch the hair clip, bumping into Sammy’s lingering fingers. And Sammy took her hand, entwining their fingers.

“Allow me to properly ask: would you marry me?” Sammy asked, a whisper that went from Julie’s ears straight to her chest.

Julie’s mouth quivered, her emotions all over the place. Oh she missed how Sammy used to just try and seduce her—this was almost too much to handle.

“I will,” Julie whispered back.

Sammy sealed their promise with a kiss, a kiss that continued from chair to bed, carrying on for so much longer still.