The next day saw them make good progress in the morning, yet the dark sky looming above made any plans for the afternoon difficult. However, Sammy was ambitious and optimistic, insistent that, even if they had to take cover for hours, they would still have time when it lightened or stopped to make it to at least the next stop along the highway.

Julie was reluctant, still thinking of the weather back in Schtat where storms were usually measured in days than hours. But it was such a well-made highway, busy with traders despite the dark skies, surely no harm to come from a bit of water.

They were wrong.

Halfway to the next stop, it poured so heavy that Julie could barely think, painful on her head through the hood. While the traders in their covered wagons continued, Sammy and Julie pulled over to find temporary cover under a tree. At the first sound of rumbling, though, Julie went about setting a tent using the broad ditch beside the highway, while Sammy put simple coats on the horses.

To put it lightly, the tent was cramped. The canvas sheet wasn’t even high enough for them to sit up straight, never mind that the groundsheet was on a slope lest the water pool, a stream already forming at the bottom of the ditch Julie had covered over. Diminishing the space further, those spoiled horses stuck their heads in.

Julie felt overwhelmed by it all as if struggling against life’s current. Things were happening, things outside her control, things she could do nothing about.

Yet she turned and saw Sammy looking as relaxed as always. Like it didn’t matter that her clothes were half-soaked, hair damp, to say nothing of the state of their socks.

Their gazes meeting, Sammy smiled. “Is something wrong?”

Julie almost shook her head, instead nodding. “I’m just worried.” It didn’t need to be said what she was worried about.

So Sammy leant in and kissed Julie. What started as a touch of lips grew ever deeper with every beat of their hearts, the sounds they made lost to the rain. And Julie forgot, forgot her worries, forgot the world around her, dragged into the world that only existed amidst their mingling breaths. Without thinking, her hand cupped Sammy’s cheek, fingertips playing with loose strands of stringy hair.

Not one to let an opportunity go by, Sammy let her free hand rest on Julie’s leg. It was, on the surface, innocent enough, barely touching above the knee. But Sammy could feel the change whenever she gently rubbed, felt the little shudder of breath slipping from Julie’s lips, felt that hand on her cheek tense.

An innocent touch that, in this moment, felt burning hot to Julie.

Neither could have said for how long they kissed. When they finally broke away, their chests heaved as they tried to catch up on all the breaths they had skipped, hearts pounding louder in their ears than the rain on the sheet.

“Feel better?” Sammy eventually asked.

“Mm.”

After a moment, their eyes met and, this time, they burst into laughter. Those breaths they had only just caught became lost once more. Soon, they died down to giggles and chuckles, but the broad smiles didn’t fade. In unspoken agreement, their hands met in the middle and entwined.

As if to remind them that the world was still there, Hope snorted, the rush of air hitting Julie on the back of the neck and making her shudder. Sammy tittered, but it wasn’t enough to set them off again.

While the temperature was mild, the damp clothes and bursts of wind pulled at their body heat. Again, without saying a word, they shuffled closer until their knees and elbows were touching, then Sammy rested her head on Julie’s shoulder.

“How much do you trust me?” Sammy whispered.

Julie wasn’t really sure how to “measure” trust, so she had to go for the cheesy kind of line she’d read a hundred times before: “With my life.”

Sammy let go of Julie’s hand, moving her arm behind Julie’s back and holding tightly. Julie’s heart thumped. But that wasn’t Sammy’s goal, her more secure position freeing up her other hand to stretch out in front of them. A spark, a flicker, then a flame above her palm. Sammy held it as low as she could reach, letting it grow to a mild fire.

Warmth soon seeped through the front of their clothes. Only, it was deeply unsettling for Julie, the warm and damp sensation like she’d peed herself… not that she had since she was a child, but the current situation reminded her of those long-forgotten memories.

She managed to put up with it.

As that building heat became almost painful, prickling against their skin, the flames died down, a gentle fire to keep the chill away. The horses were quite fond of it and jostled with each other to get closest, so Sammy moved it closer to them. “I think they miss camping out,” Sammy said, chuckling afterwards.

Julie thought for a moment. “You kind of spoiled them with grilled carrots,” she said.

“Really? I don’t remember anyone stopping me,” Sammy said.

Nothing to say to that, Julie smiled.

The rain pounded and poured, storm raging, flashes of lightning and rolling thunder near and far. There were moments the canvas sheet nearly took off, but Julie had found good spots to pound the stakes in and the open sides of the “tent” meant the wind mostly just passed through. But that did also mean that they weren’t entirely kept dry. So it was fortunate Sammy had such a handy fire, one unperturbed by wind and rain, radiating a steady warmth.

Even though they had set off at the start of the afternoon, the later it grew left Julie all the more worried they would be forced to sleep right there. Fortunately, before the sky truly darkened, the rain lightened to a drizzle.

Thinking that at least the lightning had passed, Julie wanted to set up a camp under the nearby trees. However, Sammy was sure there would be at least a farmhouse nearby, unwilling to put Julie through the trouble of putting up a tent in the rain, fingers numb and wet, ground soggy.

Hearing that, Julie now wasn’t sure she even could put up a tent. “You’re right, there’ll be somewhere nearby,” she said.

So they hurriedly packed up and continued on, the gentler rain not rendering their raincoats as useless as earlier. It was still cold, all the more biting without the fire to soften it, but bearable… for now.

It took them half an hour to come to an estate. A paved road led off the highway, some hundred paces away a grand gate along a vast, vast fence. Yet, even from the highway, they could clearly see the broad manor in the distance.

Julie found it intimidating to approach, but it was easy to follow behind Sammy. They continued on horseback and dismounted at the gate. Two guards were in the gatehouse—a wooden shack with empty windows. Sammy spoke to the one guard, he spoke to the other guard, then that guard ran off up towards the house.

It was just, when Sammy turned and saw Julie shivering, her heart squeezed, stepping forward to hug her precious jewel. Julie felt stiff in her arms, from both the cold and the show of intimacy in front of the other guard.

“Sammy,” she whispered, almost a whine.

“If you’re worried, I can kiss you again.”

No more complaints came from Julie.

It took more than a minute for the other guard to return, a less-than-pleased butler in tow. Julie thought this meant Sammy would let go of her, and she was wrong, the arms around her waist if anything tighter. Although Julie had understood most of what Sammy told the guards, the conversation with the butler was too quick and used too many words she didn’t know.

Julie noticed one phrase come up, though: ma sherie. It was what Sammy usually called her when speaking Sonlettian. According to Sammy, it meant something like “my precious person”, which, well, Sammy sometimes called her “my precious Jule” in Schtish, so Julie thought it made sense.

Eventually, the gate opened up and the butler led them towards the manor. Only towards it, though, near the end taking the path to the stable.

Compared to a tent, an old barn stable was luxury. Julie didn’t quite understand that at first. No, she fretted about Sammy, worried that the cheery expression was just to reassure her.

Sammy soon reminded her not to be so self-conscious.

“You know, I once read a rather intimate book,” Sammy said with a nostalgic smile. “It was about a man and woman eloping and they hid in a barn and let us say… the church would not approve of what happened next.”

Julie had no clue where this was going, almost afraid to find out, while Sammy found a pile of clean hay to sit on—at least, as clean as hay could be. She then beckoned Julie to join her and Julie reluctantly did.

If only Julie had been more reluctant.

“Really, can you imagine lying naked on this? You’d have bits of straw in every nook and cranny,” Sammy said, ending with a shake of her head.

Two months together and Julie still found herself constantly surprised by Sammy’s “honesty”. Exasperated, she said, “You can say some… dirty things with innocent words.”

To which Sammy leaned in close and whispered, “I can say such dirty words too.”

Julie broke, breathless laughs shaking her until her ribs ached, spurred on by how much she believed Sammy. When she finally calmed down, she agreed. “I’m sure you can.”

Although Sammy wanted to have some more fun, the touch of purple to Julie’s lips wasn’t from her earlier enthusiasm when kissing. So she “borrowed” a metal bucket and half-filled it from a trough, then set it alight, the divine flame engulfing the water’s surface. Without wind and rain to worry about, and enough room to change, it was easy to warm up.

Well, having a lover to cuddle helped too.

Instead of prickly hay, they were curled up on the groundsheet, a blanket over their backs. Like earlier, Sammy rested her head on Julie’s shoulder. Now and then, they shuffled a bit or stretched their legs, but Sammy kept her head right there. Sometimes speaking softly, often silent, their evening went by so slowly, the only break for them to take out some dried meat and soften it over the divine fire’s steam… well, a second break for Sammy to relieve herself too.

When it came time to sleep, they stayed in their fresh dayclothes. With the sky overcast and no candles, they were plunged into a thick darkness the moment Sammy extinguished the bucket, fumbling her way to their “bed”. The groundsheet made sure no hay pricked them as they settled down, about as comfortable as the cheaper inns they sometimes stayed at.

“Today was a lot of fun,” Sammy whispered.

Julie smiled to herself. Right now, she could still remember some of the panic, but Sammy had pushed so much warmth into the rest of that day that she knew, in a week, in a month, she would only remember this day fondly.

“All thanks to you guessing the weather wrong,” Julie said.

Sammy giggled. “We’re still a couple hours farther ahead, so yes, you should be thanking me.”

Yet Julie didn’t feel thankful for that at all. Every time she thought about the matter of the journey, she hated the hypocrite she’d become. Hated that she couldn’t be honest with Sammy.

But Sammy had said before that, if Julie asked her to stop, she would. So Julie knew that she couldn’t be honest. She wasn’t like Sammy who could calmly say what matters were and weren’t her responsibility. No, Julie would hear of every attack, every death, and blame herself.

“Lia?”

Broken from those depressing thoughts, Julie turned and found Sammy staring at her, nothing more than a silhouette amongst the darkness. “Yeah?”

That silhouette became the darkness, engulfing Julie as Sammy kissed her. “I love you,” Sammy whispered, her mouth lingering by Julie’s ear.

“I, I love you,” Julie mumbled, not quite used to saying it. But the dark thoughts were now gone, entirely forgotten.

They slept well.

Even by morning, the rain hadn’t let up, a steady drizzle that pitter-pattered on the puddles outside, calming to hear. Sammy sat by the barn doors with them opened ajar, watching the rain. Julie brushed their horses, but her eyes were often drawn to Sammy, constantly glancing over.

Before the matter of breakfast came up, the housekeeper arrived. She was an older woman with a grumpy face—perhaps to do with having to come out in the cold rain—and a brisk walk. As if entertaining a guest, Sammy invited her in and offered a cup of warm water.

“No, thank you,” the housekeeper said in a terse voice, every word brief.

Sammy smiled and poured herself a cup, silently sipping while she waited for the housekeeper to speak.

“I am Mrs Martan, the housekeeper here,” she said, her chin a touch raised. “We don’t have spare for charity here, but you can stay in this barn until the rain lets up.”

Sammy nodded, her mouth hidden behind the cup, but her eyes seemed to smile. “We are young and capable, so please, if there are tasks we can help with, allow us. However, my precious”—she gestured at Julie—“doesn’t speak fluently, better if we can be together.”

Mrs Martan gave them both a good, long look. At least with Julie, it was clear that there really was a capable young person, albeit because Mrs Martan thought that the person wearing trousers with short-ish hair was a boy in his teens. As for Sammy, Mrs Martan noticed the finer features that showed even in commoner’s dress.

It should be said that, behind the strict façade of a housekeeper, Mrs Martan was a lover of trashy romance books—a very popular pastime for the unwed women of Sonlettier. So she saw a young man and woman together, one clearly a cut above a commoner, and her mind couldn’t help but be filled with thoughts of elopement.

However, she was also fond of having a job. “If you want to eat, there are always linens to wash,” she said, looking Julie’s way, then looked back at Sammy. “And if you can read, the library needs some sorting.”

Sammy knew she had made a suggestion and Mrs Martan hadn’t taken it, so didn’t bring up them working together again. “Very well.”

A short while later, they were at the servant’s hall, Sammy and Julie seated for a warm meal. On the way, Sammy had explained the matter to Julie. But Julie wasn’t quite so eager. “If you wanted breakfast, I’m sure we could have paid.”

“Our money won’t last forever,” Sammy said, shaking her head.

Julie knew better than to argue.

After eating, Mrs Martan went to take Sammy and tried to send Julie with the butler. However, Sammy very patiently explained, “She will also be a maid.”

Mrs Martan looked more closely at Julie and felt her heart drop. “He” had a feminine face and, like an illusion, the “boy” in front of her flipped to a “young woman”, the cascade knocking out her elopement fantasy and rocking her heart. But no, clearly this Julie was escorting her mistress to meet up with the forbidden lover—

“Mrs Martan?”

Broken out of her delusions, Mrs Martan narrowed her eyes. “Very well. Both of you, follow me.” She was still a woman of her word.

Sammy and Julie were given an apron and hat, not entirely matching the other maids due to their personal clothes underneath, but still clearly maids. Back at the servant’s hall, Mrs Martan picked out the laundry maid to direct Julie.

“She isn’t fluent, so please be patient with her,” Sammy said to the maid.

And Sammy held nothing back, her tone gentle and gaze delicate. Faced with that, the maid could only shyly look away, saying, “Of course.”

“Thank you,” Sammy said with a warm smile.

Mrs Martan sighed: this child surely was a pure soul, unsuited to the harshness of politics and high society.

Rather than a maid, Sammy was assigned to the butler. That intrigued Sammy, but it was simply the case that, since the library included displays of jewellery and some other small pieces, access was rather restricted.

“The room will be inspected before you leave,” the butler said.

Sammy smiled in reply.

As for the sorting, there were a pile of books that had been taken out and needed returning, then she would go through the shelves and ensure they were as recorded. It was a strange system, but Sammy understood the gist from looking at a few placards. For fiction, books were grouped by author, sorted by title within that group and the groups sorted by the author’s surname. Non-fiction was separated into topics—history, geography, mathematics—and then sorted by title.

The last time Sammy had really tested her mind at all had been putting together the proposal for Yewry. But that had been a more creative task, this one purely mechanical. Between her strong memory and sharp intuition, it didn’t take her long to know exactly where the left-out books needed to go, no pauses in her steps as she wandered the aisles of bookcases with purpose.

Done in no time, she then scanned through the shelves. The books in the wrong places might as well have glowed for how easily she spotted them. Usually, they were only off by a couple of places, but she dutifully shuffled them over nonetheless.

After an hours work, she was finished with the assigned task. Once the butler had inspected the displays and made sure nothing was taken, Sammy slipped off to seek out Julie. Somewhat knowing how such grand houses were laid out, she made her way to the back of the ground floor.

Sure enough, there was one room half-open to the outside with a strange kind of oven to heat water, a clothesline, and a couple of clotheshorses cluttering the room.

And Julie being confronted by a young miss of the house.

“—expensive these shoes are?” the young miss shouted.

Sammy quickly took in important bits: Julie near enough bowed over, the young miss standing in front with a raised hand.

That wouldn’t do.

In a stride, Sammy closed the distance and, before that hand could swing down, she made a loose ring around the wrist with her thumb and forefinger. The young miss quickly found it as unyielding as a steel ring hammered into a wall. Panic set in, competing against her composure, and she turned around in a jerk, eyes quivering with surprise and anger.

“W-who are you? Let me go!” she said, voice trying to be brave.

Sammy smiled, perhaps only making matters worse. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” she softly asked.

The young miss tugged and tugged, but could barely budge Sammy’s steady hand. “I’ll scream,” she said, her anger stoked up again.

“I’ll scream louder.” It was such a weird reply that the young miss was thrown once more, her expression slipping into confusion. Before the young miss could catch herself, Sammy said, “If you promise not to hit her, I shall release you.”

This served as a reminder to the young miss of why she was so angry in the first place, her petulance renewed. “Who are you to make demands of me? I’ll hit who I want,” she said, raising her chin even higher than it already was to look at Sammy’s face.

Sammy pondered for a moment and then said, “Hit me instead.”

It had the air of a compromise, yet again befuddling the young miss, the idea of being hit in someone’s place an unthinkable thing. She eventually asked, “Why?”

Sammy’s expression softened, the young miss holding her breath without thinking at the beautiful sight, and Sammy answered, “She is my lover, so I don’t want to see her hurt.”

This proved to be a suitably confounding answer, the young miss losing all traces of fire from her eyes. Thinking so, Sammy let go of her and went to Julie, coaxing her, rubbing her back.

But the young miss wasn’t done. “I, that’s nonsense.”

Sammy glanced up, their eyes meeting, but the young miss couldn’t meet that gaze for long. Once she looked away, Sammy turned her attention back to Julie and straightened her beloved up. “May I?” she whispered, cupping Julie’s cheek.

As lost and afraid as Julie had been until now, she knew instantly what that look from Sammy meant. Only, with the young miss there, she found it so difficult to say yes. After a few seconds, she realised it was easy to answer in another way and leaned in.

The two kissed, brief and chaste, but they kissed and the young miss saw, her eyes growing wide and mouth falling open. As quick as it had been, she was already stumbling backwards when they parted.

“P-p-perverts!” she said, near enough running out of the room.

For a while, there was silence. Sammy saw Julie’s expression souring by the second, so kissed her again, this time lingering for a breath. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

Julie had cheered up from that kiss, but her worries still weighed her down and she asked, “Was that really okay?”

“Was what?”

After hesitating, Julie said it straight: “Kissing in front of a girl. What if she’s… influenced?”

Sammy gently laughed, her titters like musical notes, tickling Julie’s ears. “If a girl would grow up reading of men kissing women, perhaps often see her father kiss her mother, maybe catch a footman kissing a maid, by chance spy a suitor and débutante kiss in the gardens at an event, and yet still be influenced from once seeing two women share a peck on the lips, well, I dare say that she may well have been queer from birth.”

What Sammy said certainly made a lot of sense and left Julie feeling stupid for having worried. But she soon doubted that, wondering if it maybe would have been easier to first kiss Sammy if she’d seen two women kiss before, if she’d read about it—if it was as normal to her as a man and a woman kissing.

Except Julie soon realised that was Sammy’s point: she had already wanted to kiss Sammy even without seeing or reading about two women kissing.

Any further thoughts had to be put off for later, the laundry maid returning with another basket. So Sammy helped Julie with washing the rest of the linens.

Although not quite lunchtime, Mrs Martan didn’t have a short enough task for them, so they ate early and then helped the scullery maids to serve lunch for the other servants, afterwards helping with the washing. Well, Mrs Martan tried to just have Julie wash up, but Sammy included herself.

While it was, altogether, not that much work for a maid, Sammy and Julie were boarding in a barn. Thus their workday ended and they returned to their “room”. And though Julie worried about the young miss, no one came to shout at them, so she eventually stopped.

Despite the overcast sky, the rain had petered out over the day. However, it was too late for either of them to want to set off, so they stayed for supper and spent another evening in front of the bucket fire. Before bed, they took turns to wipe down; Julie felt too nervous to wash Sammy’s back, watching the doors the whole time, and asked Sammy to do the same when she bathed.

Soon, they exchanged those little words of goodnight they always did, along with a kiss, then fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Another pleasant evening. Peaceful.