Vassal by Sterling D'Este (reading books for 7 year olds .txt) 📗

wrong. It required blood magic for Gods’ sake! Yet she had done nothing to stop it. She hadn’t said no.

Her biggest mistake.

“Do you ever see yourself with a family? Children and a home and the likes?” she asked, opening her hand again. The red was fading.

༄

The abrupt change in topic took Delyth by surprise. She blinked down at Alphonse, unsure how to answer.

When she was little, Delyth had longed to be a part of a family. As a teenager, she had scorned those who had them, angry at whatever force of happenstance had led her to be brought into the world without one. As an adult, she had assumed that her family would be what she could cobble together out of the bonds she formed with the other warrior priests.

Now, she thought she might one day like to meet others like her, to see if they could be a form of family.

And, if they survived this and Alphonse was willing, to make a family out of the two of them. Etienne could be a part of it too, she supposed. Since Alphonse had said he was like a brother to her.

But children?

She knew she preferred women, and the two of them could not…

Delyth swallowed. “I would like some form of family,” she said finally. “And a home. But children… I don’t know how— it’d not work…”

Did Alphonse want children? That farmer she was engaged to could give her children.

The thought made Delyth wince.

Alphonse shook her head. “I just wanted to know more about you, Delyth. Your story… It made me realize I hadn’t asked much of your past. I thought it might be too personal. But now… Please.” She urged Delyth to sit, gesturing to the pallet they had shared last night. “I don’t want to keep my distance anymore.”

Delyth relaxed with Alphonse’s admission and settled beside her, encircling the smaller woman with a wing. It’d become habitual now—that little form of contact.

Sharing more of her life with Alphonse was a welcome idea. Delyth wanted to know the healer better as well, and perhaps… Perhaps this meant that Alphonse had not completely given up hope of a life after Thlonandras.

But where should she start? Alphonse knew that she’d been raised at the temple, struggled to become warrior priestess, and then left to protect the vassal. She wasn’t sure she wanted to bring up past lovers, though if Alphonse asked, she’d be open about it. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Alphonse scooted closer, letting her shoulder brush Delyth’s as her massive wing sheltered them both.

“Ummmm…” Delyth breathed. It was hard to concentrate with Alphonse looking up at her, eyes soft, and focused on Delyth’s.

The priestess swallowed and glanced away so that she could think.

“I taught myself to fly,” she said finally. “But not until I was nearly a teenager. When I was really small, my caretakers hid my wings. Quickly, they grew too large, and then I was told to keep myself firmly on the ground. I’m not even completely sure why I decided to disobey them. It wasn’t easy. But I started slipping away to practice and eventually got the hang of it.”

It wasn’t a particularly dramatic story, but perhaps it’d be something Alphonse wanted to hear. Delyth turned back to the healer, pulling her knees up to her chest to rest her cheek on them. “Does that count as part of everything?”

“Yes. It does.” Alphonse looked at Delyth’s mouth and then smirked, leaning in to brush her lips against Delyth’s in a soft kiss. Pulling away, she blushed. “Were you afraid to fly? Or was it simply something you knew how to do, once your body learned each step?”

“I was afraid,” Delyth said. She was smiling, her belly aglow from Alphonse’s quick kiss. “In the beginning, I fell often. Every new height was terrifying.”

She turned over her arm and held it out for Alphonse’s inspection. There was a poorly mended scar winding through the center of her forearm. “I still have the scars because I refused to go to the healers. I was afraid they would make me stop.”

❀

Alphonse touched the scars, gentle and thoughtful in her examination. She could have healed those wounds so quickly. Delyth wouldn’t have even had scars to remind her of those falls. But then…

Alphonse traced her fingertips down one scar.

They were parts of Delyth, of her history. Pieces Alphonse didn’t want to be hidden or erased. “But you learned. And now you fly faster and higher than even the birds…” she murmured, letting her hand travel up to the crook of Delyth’s elbow, back down to her wrist, up again… long, smooth strokes.

“What do you want to know of me?”

“Mmmm...” Delyth hummed, closing her eyes and shivering a little at the light caress of Alphonse’s fingertips. She opened her eyes with a playful look and repeated Alphonse’s answer from a few moments before. “Everything.”

Alphonse giggled. It sounded silly now that the question was posed to her...What could she tell Delyth that she didn’t already know?

Plenty.

Delyth knew the most intimate facets of Alphonse, but she didn’t know the mundane details. “I miss my veil every day. I was teased by the other girls at Moxous for not wearing bright or pretty colors. For being a Mother Agathi follower. The first bones I ever healed were my own. I haven’t been back home to my village since I was fourteen when my grandmother died, because Moxous doesn’t allow the students to leave regularly. I hate beets. I love fresh fruit and, ah… I had never been courted before.”

Was that enough? Was that everything?

Hardly.

“Why did you stop wearing your veil?” Delyth asked. “How did you break your bones? Do you miss your family? How do you feel about your family? Have you ever wanted to be courted by anyone before?”

Alphonse shook her head. “I’ve never wanted to court anyone. Ever. It didn’t occur to me as interesting or… valuable.” But being with Delyth… It was perfection.

The healer felt herself smiling despite how silly it must