In the early morning, Julie stirred, eyelashes fluttering as she tried to open her eyes. Once she did, though, she couldn’t close them, caught by Sammy’s warm gaze. It felt good to stare into Sammy’s eyes. She knew that, even if she couldn’t explain it. There was just this peace which blossomed in her chest and quieted the world around them.

“Good morning, my love,” Sammy eventually whispered, caressing the side of Julie’s face as she spoke.

“G’morning,” Julie whispered back.

Gently, so very gently, Sammy kissed Julie. And it was like staring into Sammy’s eyes, that same kind of warmth. At first, every kiss—even the ones just on the cheek—had felt so hot, made her heart beat quicker. But now, Julie could feel the differences between them. She could feel the feeling Sammy put into them.

Though not usually the philosophical sort, Julie wondered if Sammy felt her feeling too. Whether or not Sammy could, Julie chased after Sammy’s lips to return the feeling—not that Sammy particularly tried to elude Julie’s advance.

Their exchange of kisses finished, they went about their morning as usual. That is, Julie went out to work up a bit of a sweat and Sammy tended to herself, before then reuniting in the room for a wipe down, Louise dropping off a bucket of water (bemoaning her lazy daughter, still sleeping this long past sunrise).

By breakfast time, Simon had already left. So it was just the drowsy Élise joining Sammy and Julie for the simple meal: porridge with a side of water. Louise apologised for serving something so bland, but Sammy simply replied, “It is our first time trying porridge from these parts,” which put Louise at ease.

Not wanting to take advantage of Louise’s hospitality, they readied to leave after the meal. Élise was rather insistent they could stay as long as they wanted, but Sammy smiled and said nothing for now, instead following Julie up to the guest room.

Therein Julie asked, “Is the mudslide gonna be cleared already?”

Sammy shook her head. “We have all day to make our way around it, though, and we can follow the merchants.”

No more was said on the matter, Julie—as always—wholeheartedly believing in Sammy.

Soon, the few things they’d taken out were packed away and their packs hoisted up. The house was quiet on their way back downstairs, easily explained by Élise sulking in the kitchen, Louise reading a book.

But, upon Sammy and Julie arriving at the kitchen door, Élise sprang up, so quick her chair teetered, on the verge of falling over until Louise grabbed it. Louise let out a sigh, righting it.

“Again, thank you for having us,” Sammy said in Sonlettian. “We will be on our way now.”

“It was our pleasure,” Louise said, standing up. She walked over and showed the guests to the front door, Élise trailing behind the group.

Once through the threshold, Sammy stopped and turned until she met Louise’s gaze. Since the start of their journey, Sammy had tried to not look at other women so much (and had never looked at men much to begin with) out of consideration for Julie. That habit had grown to her not really taking a proper look at anyone any more. But she looked now at Louise’s face—a mother’s face—and wondered what expressions Louise showed Élise.

In a whisper just loud enough to reach Louise, Sammy said, “It is clear to me that you care for your daughter a great deal. I hope you do not come to care more for what others think.”

Louise’s face somewhat darkened at that, but there was nothing aggressive in her tone when she asked, “What do you mean by that?”

Sammy smiled. “I mean what I said,” she answered, then looked past Louise and switched to Schtish. “If you find a companion, you may want to visit the pri-eu-ray do solay cooshon in the very south-west.”

That only added on to Louise’s confusion, but Sammy wasn’t done yet and turned sideways, taking hold of Julie’s hand.

“My fiancée and I bid you farewell,” she said in Sonlettian.

Despite all the switching, Julie recognised that phrase—her mind glossing over fiancée despite it being the same in Sonlettian and Schtish—and so parroted her own parting words. “I you bid farewell.”

With that, they left, Sammy whispering to Julie, “Very good, but it is te fe, not fe te.”

After collecting their horses, they walked to the edge of the town before mounting up. Sure enough, there was a trickle of merchants also leaving, smaller ones who didn’t have a cart or wagon.

It took an hour to come to the mudslide. Although it wasn’t big, it was still massive. Just looking at it unsettled Julie, something about how it changed the world, in her mind geography a very constant thing. History, she understood. People changed. But the world didn’t, not by itself, not unless people changed it—felling trees, damming rivers.

They didn’t dwell there, though, so Julie didn’t dwell on her thoughts either, following the newly-formed trail made by the merchants skirting the affected area. Of course, it was a very generous skirting in case the mud decided it hadn’t finished sliding yet.

After that, it was back to the quiet journey they had both grown accustomed to, eventually stopping to rest the horses for lunch. Only then did Julie notice how quiet Sammy was, thinking back and realising Sammy had barely spoken all morning. Too quiet. That made her think back to the night before, how Sammy had been a bit upset after speaking to Élise.

“Is something bothering you?”

Julie broke from her thoughts and, going over what Sammy had said, almost laughed. Instead, she softly shook her head. “Are you okay?” she asked back, a touch of a smile on her lips.

Sammy giggled, covering her mouth. “Let us save that conversation for somewhere better suited.”

Julie silently agreed and returned to her meal, Sammy doing the same. A modest lunch from an inn for traders, it didn’t take them long to finish, but they followed up with a cup of petty wine for good measure.

“It’s sweeter,” Julie mumbled.

“The changing weather isn’t as suited for grapevines, so they tend to use more hardy fruits,” Sammy said, gently swirling her cup. “One I quite enjoyed was cherry wine. However, the cherries used are rather tart, so the petty wine often has honey mixed in and is apparently lovely heated up on a wintery day.”

That was more like the Sammy she knew, Julie thought.

With the random trivia out of the way, Sammy quickly finished her drink, beating Julie. Julie wasn’t sure how, Sammy seemingly only taking a small sip at a time. She put it down as a skill princesses learned.

On their way out, they both thanked the middle-aged man manning the counter; Julie’s pronunciation had grown much better in the few days they’d been in Sonlettier. With a wry smile, Sammy had to admit that it was probably also thanks to Yewry.

Outside, it was little more than a hamlet: a couple of inns and stables and houses for the families who worked the businesses. That meant it didn’t take Sammy and Julie long to reach nature, a dirt path trailing into meadowy grass. The green stretched all the way north to the mountains, bushy trees along the bottom, a green fuzz with brown patches up until the greyish peaks, topped with snow. While it wasn’t steep where they were, after a short walk, they turned around and could see the rolling hills to the south, covered in farms and pastures and scattered villages.

“It reminds me of when we crossed into Sonlettier,” Sammy softly said.

Julie thought so too. There hadn’t been the villages, but the vast expanse of nature was very similar. Humbling.

Sammy’s memory of that time had little to do with the sight, though. It was indeed a beautiful sight, but, to her, that had been when she no longer felt alone. How they had kissed each other was not what friends or family members did, even if they hadn’t kissed on the lips. More clear to her now, she felt like that had been when she had found a place for herself in Julie’s heart.

“Julie?”

Julie hummed in reply, but, Sammy not replying, she eventually turned. When she did, she saw Sammy presenting a cheek, eyes closed. A laugh slipped out of her, Sammy looking a bit childish. Still, she indulged her lover, leaning in and leaving a peck on Sammy’s cheek.

Once Julie pulled back, Sammy opened her eyes and returned the kiss on the cheek—which made Julie laugh again.

“Is that all you want?” Julie asked.

Sammy smiled for a moment, only for her smile to turn distant, gaze drifting away from Julie and to the distant horizon. Julie sobered, concerned.

“You are very strong,” Sammy said, and said nothing more.

The silence dragged on until Julie gave up waiting for Sammy to continue. “Not as strong as you, or the men at the barracks. But I was pretty strong for a woman,” she said, rambling a bit.

Sammy tittered. “I am speaking of… mental strength.”

“Oh.”

Sammy took a moment to organise her thoughts, her hands clasped together and gaze falling down to her lap, some hair coming loose. Despite Julie’s worry and confusion, she found the sight beautiful. It didn’t happen as often now she’d spent so many days at Sammy’s side, but there were still moments like this where she felt like she was seeing a painting—or rather, what should have been a painting. If only she could paint.

“I have become afraid of losing you,” Sammy whispered.

Julie wasn’t sure what to make of that. After all, she’d been afraid of losing Sammy ever since they’d carved their names into the tree all the way back in Schtish, keenly so after the ordeal by the priory. “Okay?”

After another moment of silence, Sammy continued. “It is hard for me to put to words. Last night, I realised how I have come to rely on you. That is something I haven’t really done before—emotionally, at least. To have someone comfort me. To be vulnerable in front of someone.”

Sammy paused, shaking her head.

“I had this all thought out very well, but the words I had so carefully chosen have chosen to now elude me,” she muttered. Clearing her throat, she then continued speaking normally. “What I am trying to say is thank you.”

Julie had kind of expected the monologue to go on a bit longer, so the sudden thanks took her by surprise. Scrambling for a reply, she said, “That’s, I mean, I haven’t done anything.”

Sammy laughed and it was such a sweet laugh that Julie wasn’t even annoyed at being laughed at. Then Sammy sighed, expelling the humour, leaving behind a smile even sweeter. “I could never doubt myself before. I had to be exactly me, otherwise the weight of the world would have crushed me. Imagine that. Imagine if, instead of you, I embarked on this journey with a man, some dashing young knight from a good family.”

Sammy paused to giggle. “What would he have thought when I first needed to pee? Never mind when I asked for the shovel.” Her humour faded quickly, though. “I would have spent every night alone. I would have had to ask a stranger at the inn to wash my clothes, not to mention sanitary cloths.”

Another pause there, Julie watched as Sammy wilted, the life seemingly draining from her. Only, it emphasised her beauty in some unspeakable way; Julie understood now why princesses were supposed to be frail. The urge to touch her, hold her, became almost impossible to ignore, as if she was afraid a strong breeze might take Sammy away.

“I wouldn’t have loved him. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable around him. I wouldn’t have kissed him. If I had, I would have hated it, hated myself for doing it. I wouldn’t have danced with him, held him, stroked his cheek and ran my fingers through his hair. He wouldn’t have been the last thing I saw before I fell asleep, nor the first thing I saw when I woke up.”

Sammy swallowed the lump in her throat, yet her voice still came out so very softly that it was a miracle Julie heard her.

“I would never have been happy.”

Those words saw the first of Julie’s tears, tears that, despite how she rubbed her eyes, kept falling. The ache in her heart was just too much to keep inside.

Julie had never really cried at the things that had happened in her own life before. There’d been times when she’d cried in pain or frustration, brief moments. But she’d never cried over her mother dying, nor her father apparently being a terrible man, nor his death. Some books she’d read had been terribly sad and she’d teared up, but not actually cried.

Now that she was crying, though, it made her feel all the worse—surely Sammy was the one really hurting. Just that, when she looked at Sammy, well, Sammy was smiling.

“You look beautiful when you cry,” Sammy softly said.

And Julie snorted, the sound snotty and followed by a rather wet sniffle. Besides that, her eyes prickled, were definitely red and puffy.

“So beautiful to me.”

Julie couldn’t argue with what Sammy thought, but she still turned away, desperately trying to dry her eyes. Though her throat felt clogged up, she managed to say, “I’m sorry.”

Sammy looped her arms around Julie’s waist and pressed herself against Julie’s back. Whispering close to Julie’s ear, she said, “There is never a need for you to apologise over crying on my behalf.”

Julie fought the urge to apologise for apologising, fortunately easy to do with Sammy’s comforting embrace to focus on. Her thoughts kept going, though, finding something else to apologise for. “I guess I’m not as strong as you thought,” she said lightly.

“Weakness is not the opposite of strength. However, I should not indulge in philosophy, should I? You like it when things are clear, so clearly I shall put things,” Sammy said, almost a melody to her voice. “By strong, I mean that you accept the difficult things that life brings. That you accept the difficult me.”

Listening to Sammy’s pleasant voice helped calm Julie down, her tears drying up—even as the trails lingered. But she grew fidgety, feeling like she’d done nothing to be praised. After all, it had taken a month for just their first kiss, then gone no further than that. Sharper still was her desire to tell Sammy that she wasn’t difficult, but she knew better than to argue. If Sammy said that, she surely had her reasons and Julie didn’t want to hear her say them.

Gradually, those feelings faded, brushed away by the breeze, melted by Sammy’s warmth, until there was only a peace left behind. It was the same peace Julie always felt around Sammy.

“I am unashamed to be queer,” Sammy whispered. “Now that I can doubt myself, I can truly say that.”

Hearing that, Julie had to think about herself—about if she was queer. It was a question she’d struggled with. There was just still something wrong about calling herself queer when she had only ever loved Sammy. Not to mention, Yewry had certainly shown her she didn’t like the attention of other women.

But, even if she wasn’t sure “queer” was right for herself, she wasn’t ashamed of her feelings for Sammy.

“I love you.”

Spoken so softly, so easily lost to the breeze, yet how could Sammy not hear it? And hearing it made her smile. A deep, warm happiness blossomed inside her and all she could do was smile.

Gods, it was funny how, after waiting so long, she had nothing to say. She didn’t even want to kiss Julie; well, not any more than usual anyhow. All she did was smile, utterly content. But she knew she had to say something back.

“I love you too.”

Julie’s heart thumped in her chest, a rush of excitement from finally putting to words her feelings. It seemed silly to her now how she hadn’t been able to say that before. Well, it was the same with kissing. What now felt so natural was, a month ago, something she didn’t know. Things she didn’t know were scary. If things had gone differently and she’d ended up with some man, she was sure it still would have been just as scary.

No, Julie realised, it would have been a lot more scary. The squires and guards-in-training that had showed an interest in her… she doubted they would have been so patient with her, so understanding. She didn’t know if other women would have been either.

Again, Julie’s thoughts ended up on how thankful she was to have fallen in love with Sammy.

They fell into silence then, both slowly emptying their minds, lost in a pleasant daze. However, time never stopped.

Squirming, Sammy muttered, “I need to pee.”

Julie smiled.

So they got up and shared a kiss and then went a little farther up the gentle slope to where some bushes were, Julie keeping watch as Sammy went about her business. Once finished, Sammy rinsed her hands with her flask and they walked back to the town to ready up for another afternoon of travelling.

As it had so far, the road loosely followed the base of the mountains, the other side meadows and fields. Julie idly remembered their time in the south, how Sammy had said something about it being where most of the food was grown. It wasn’t quite the same up here, not endless pastures and tilled fields, but it still looked quite a bit alike.

So Julie asked Sammy and Sammy—as always—had an answer: “Some food here may make its way to the twin capitals and other cities by river, but I dare say it is more for the traders. That is, both feeding them and wares for them to take on their way to Formadgo or Dworfen.”

The afternoon passed with that sporadic chatter, taking them through a couple more small stops before they reached a modest village around dusk. Still along the trading route, it had plenty of room for horses and people, Sammy picking out a small inn on the quieter southern edge. Like most of the inns they’d been to, it was run by a middle-aged husband and wife, their son and daughter-in-law around to help. The daughter-in-law, Béatrice, was the one who showed them to their room.

“Don’ mind the damp—was a bit of a leak, but Seb’s patched it up he has,” Béatrice said as she gestured at the corner, her accent fairly heavy.

“Of course,” Sammy said.

“Right then, I’ll jus’ leave ye to se’il in,” Béatrice said. She started walking out, only to linger in the doorway. “Really, ye’re sure ye don’ wan’ a bigger room? Hate to see one ’f ye sleep on the floor.”

Sammy’s eyes narrowed in concern, gently shaking her head. “Oh don’t worry, we shall be sharing the bed,” she said, then turned to Julie with a smile. “After all, we are to marry soon.”

There was a long moment of silence as Sammy and Julie simply smiled at each other (Julie having no clue what was going on, but never needed a reason to smile back) while Béatrice simply stared. After another long moment, she turned around, saying, “Right,” and left the room, closing the door on the way.

Only then did Sammy burst into giggles, pulling Julie into a hug. Julie dutifully hugged Sammy back and, when they let go, anticipated the kiss Sammy wanted. “What’s so funny?” she finally asked.

With something of a smug smile, Sammy told Julie, enjoying the shyness that came from it. A happy shyness, Julie looking down with a smile.

The evening’s fun didn’t end there for Sammy. When it was time for dinner, she found every opportunity to feed Julie, so very doting. And when she overheard one of the other guests call them a “sweet pair of sisters”, she made up an excuse to kiss the back of Julie’s hand and called her ma sherie.

If Julie thought anything was different, well, she actually didn’t. Those were the kinds of antics Sammy had always done—for years, even. Julie didn’t like to think about what Sammy used to do with other girls, though, so she stopped there.

However, Sammy always had a way to surprise her.

Knocking on the door, Béatrice said, “Wa’er fer ye.”

Sammy walked over and opened the door. “Thank you,” she said, taking the bucket.

“Another in the morning, right?” Béatrice asked.

“Yes, please,” Sammy said, smiling.

Béatrice nodded, then closed the door with a shallow bow. Sammy brought the bucket to the middle of the room. Julie, knowing what came next, made herself comfortable on the bed. Her eyes closed, she listened as Sammy took out a cloth, took off her clothes, the drips of water when wringing the cloth, the inhale as the cold water touched her skin.

Oh Julie was entirely engrossed in those sounds, even after hearing them most days. No, it was because she heard them most days she was so engrossed, part of their routine and she liked routines.

So Julie wasn’t at all expecting it when Sammy spoke.

“May you wash my back?”

That question hung in the air for a few seconds before Julie timidly said, “Sorry?”

Sammy tittered, her little laughs sweet and light, then she asked again, “May you wash my back?”

Again, a few seconds passed with Julie’s heart pounding in her chest. “Did you pull a muscle?” she eventually asked, unable to think why else Sammy would ask her to do that.

“No. I just would like for you to do it,” Sammy honestly replied.

It was a very reassuring answer for Julie. What was more, it was very convincing. She liked making Sammy happy. She wanted to make Sammy happy. And it wasn’t like Sammy was asking her to do something… erotic.

Just that, as much as Julie tried to convince herself, she still knew Sammy was naked. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Sammy naked, but it was overwhelming. Her mind filled with flickers, heart beat quick and heavy, face felt so hot it prickled, making her feel unpleasant.

The two sides of Julie that were always there.

Perhaps because of their conversation in the afternoon, Julie wanted to be strong. Once she told herself that, it became a little easier to think—to remember how nice it had been dancing in the heated bath. How nice it had always been to take another step with Sammy, no matter how small.

“Okay.”

Julie said that before she was ready, using the fact that she’d said it to quiet the doubts. So it became that little bit easier to open her eyes and sit up.

Sure enough, in the middle of the room was Sammy who sat naked upon a stool. Julie only glanced at first, glimpses of pale skin, but the looks grew longer, her eyes reluctant to leave, until she gave up and stared.

The last time, Julie hadn’t really taken a look at Sammy. Well, she had admired Sammy’s shoulders, but only a little. Now, she could truly see Sammy. And Sammy truly was a sight to see. Despite how much her heart had been racing before, it now grew slow, emphatic, the prickle of her cheeks giving way to a warmth that tingled across her entire body. In her mind, she could only think that Sammy truly was a princess from a story brought to life.

How someone so slender and feminine could be so strong, could be burdened with saving the world, Julie didn’t know.

Sammy said nothing all this time, waiting patiently. Once Julie caught herself, she realised that Sammy was holding a towel to cover her front; Julie didn’t know if she felt more relieved or disappointed, kind of feeling like she wasn’t getting the proper value out of her carefully gathered determination.

Finally, Julie stood up and walked over. She knelt down and rinsed the cloth and wrung it and brought it to Sammy’s back. In slow and gentle wipes, she worked her way across Sammy’s back. At peace. After all that overthinking, her mind was all-too-willing to let her lose herself in the simple chore.

Just that, Julie was still so very conscious, feeling how firm Sammy’s back was, seeing how flawless it was. And she was very aware of when she needed to finish, not willing to go too low.

“There we go,” Julie whispered, leaving the cloth on the edge of the bucket and standing up.

“Thank you. I really enjoyed that,” Sammy said.

Julie smiled and, without thinking, she kissed the back of Sammy’s head. Then she walked back to the bed and made herself comfortable again.

Soon, the sounds of washing carried on, Julie so drained that she was on the verge of falling asleep. But Sammy stirred her, speaking up.

“Julie?”

“Yeah?” Julie managed to say before a yawn slipped out.

“We have spoken about this already, but I wish to bring it up again,” Sammy said, a softness to her voice. “I will ask things of you and I would like for you to be honest in your answers. However, you are also free to be honest in asking things of me. If you wish to kiss or cuddle, or to simply hear me read—if there are things I can do to make you happy, I want to do them just as you do.”

A hundred thoughts tried to run through Julie’s mind, but she really was too exhausted to think. So, in the end, all she said was, “Okay.”

Sammy chuckled at the brief answer, but didn’t complain. “Wonderful.”

Nothing more happened, a pleasant quiet filling the room as their evening routines carried on, Julie managing to keep herself awake for the time being. Seeing how tired Julie was, Sammy didn’t keep her up and they were soon snuggled together in the bed.

“Goodnight, Lia,” Sammy whispered.

Julie didn’t reply, already asleep.

Sammy chuckled, then leant in to leave a kiss on Julie’s forehead. “I love you too.”