Chapter 21: Ch. 20 A New-Found Responsibility

Julie woke up first, uncomfortably warm with sweat on her skin. As her dream faded, she slowly realised where that heat had come from, a familiar face in the corner of her eye. Trying to not disturb Sammy, Julie carefully shuffled away and turned onto her side. Although Sammy stirred for a moment, Julie instinctively squeezed the soft hand she still held, that enough to settle Sammy.

Julie let out a breath in relief. Then, no thoughts coming to her, she stared at Sammy in the dim light that preceded dawn.

There was so much for Julie to see. Those long eyelashes tickled her gaze, the gentle curve along the jawline that went from chin to ear, such a smooth neck, all begging for her touch. An innate desire to touch that which was beautiful.

However, what truly trapped her were those lips, slightly parted, quivering with Sammy’s every breath. Julie licked her own lips as feelings like waves crashed on her heart, ebbing and flowing. She could think of nothing else in the world which she knew, not by the touch of her fingers, but only by the touch of her lips. A softness, a warmth, echoes in her mind of those little wet sounds warming her cheeks.

The heat she began to feel had nothing and everything to do with the woman sleeping soundly at her side. Only, after losing herself between memories and reality for a while, a sobering thought trickled through her, cooling her down.

As happy as she was that she could now give the kisses Sammy so desired, she had a certain guilt. It had almost been like a game before where Sammy had teased her for fun. No lines had been crossed, not between two girls. No one would have said anything about Sammy having slept alongside a companion while travelling.

But kissing was different, Julie knew. They weren’t curious children who knew no better. Whoever Sammy fell in love with, whether man or woman, would surely be upset if they knew that they were not her first kiss.

Even if Julie put that thought aside, she couldn’t help but feel unworthy. She was nothing like the pretty ladies Sammy had chased, both her status and her looks as low as could be, uncultured too.

Despite Sammy having said she would give up her status before, Julie knew full well that something so ingrained couldn’t be forgotten. Sammy would always be a princess. If she so wished, she would be the centre of the world wherever she went, beautiful and charismatic, so very charming and oh so elegant.

Julie was a stain on that, she knew. Her only worth was making Sammy look more beautiful and refined by comparison. She hadn’t done anything to deserve Sammy. She had nothing to offer, couldn’t even promise a good life after their journey.

As unlucky as Sammy had been in pursuing other women, Julie didn’t think that such unluckiness should be so unfairly punished.

While Julie had been lost in those unpleasant thoughts, Sammy stirred, feeling like the hand she held was tense. When she eventually opened her eyes and looked over, she was overcome with the urge to replace that empty expression with a warm smile.

Taking Julie entirely by surprise, Sammy rolled onto her side and brought her free hand to hold Julie’s cheek, then drew in for a light kiss. Only, she felt the tension grow in Julie.

“Did you not like that?” Sammy asked, so close their noses nearly touched.

Julie lowered her gaze, but the sight that greeted her made her breath catch. She quickly turned back onto her back and stared at the roof instead. “It… surprised me, that’s all,” Julie mumbled.

Sammy watched Julie closely for a moment, then smiled sadly to herself. “My apologies.”

That tone made Julie’s heart ache and she couldn’t help but say, “No, it’s fine. You can… kiss me whenever you want.”

Hearing that did not make Sammy feel any better. She deeply wished she knew what Julie was thinking right now, yet dared not ask, afraid of guilting Julie into telling something she didn’t want to say.

However, Sammy also wanted to settle Julie and so gently squeezed their joined hands. “Good morning, Lia,” she whispered.

From her position, Sammy saw the side of Julie’s smile. “Morning, Sammy,” she whispered back.

After a while of laying around, they got up and changed into their dayclothes. The inn provided a breakfast of mixed vegetable soup, but it came in a fish stock, adding a strong and savoury flavour.

Though Julie found that pairing of texture and flavour strange at first, it wasn’t an unpleasant taste. It was better than bitter and more interesting than vegetables that had been boiled tasteless.

Sammy, on the other hand, ate very slowly. Julie wanted to ask if something was wrong, but her guilty thoughts still lingered and kept her quiet.

But Sammy eventually spoke up anyway. “I think they used crab for the stock,” she softly said.

Julie hesitated, then asked, “You don’t like crab?”

After a moment, Sammy shook her head. “I was told… they often cook crabs alive, which is what I dislike.”

“Oh,” Julie said. She didn’t understand why that was an issue, though, wondering if it tasted different, if maybe crab could be dried or salted and tasted better that way.

Sammy was sure Julie had that misunderstanding, but didn’t correct her. It was just a silly sensitivity that made some foods less appetising and not at all important. So she carried on eating, soon after finishing her bowl.

Before they left the town, they found a merchant who was willing to exchange some Sonlettian and Schtish money for the local currency. Although Sammy repeated the name of that local currency a few times for Julie, all Julie could hear was “niece-granny”, which she thought couldn’t be right.

They then set off. Loosely following the coastline, the awkwardness of the morning thawed in the morning sunshine, nothing to block the light as the sun rose over the sea. Unlike their time in Sonlettier, where they sometimes went all day before they arrived at the next village, there were hamlets scattered all along the road here. But that didn’t slow them—even the children kept a distance from them while they were on their horses.

When they stopped to let the horses rest and graze, sitting beneath a tree, Sammy idly spoke.

“Maybe as much as half the population lives by the sea. It’s very hilly inland and hard to farm, so fishing the sea, lakes, and rivers has always been an important source of food for them. But the last century has seen them import more food every year. Especially here on the east coast, flour and cheese is already part of the culture—like the fried cheese sticks we had.”

Julie listened, nodding along. Listening to Sammy was a pleasant way to pass the time.

“Oh and, speaking of the hills, let me share a… well, it is not quite a joke, but it is funny in its exaggeration. A saying which goes: Every hill has her king, every valley her duke,” Sammy said, pausing to chuckle. “You see, Dworfen is more an alliance of petty kingdoms than a single country. Another not-quite-a-joke, there is one king who they elect to settle disputes and handle diplomacy with other countries; however, it is a tedious responsibility, so they will often try to bribe one another to not vote for them, and they will vote for the king they like the least.”

It had been a bit hard to follow with some unusual words, but Julie understood enough to see why Sammy found it so funny. “Really? That’s so silly,” she said.

Sammy nodded with a gentle smile. “The world… is a vast and varied place.”

With Sammy saying no more, Julie thought for a bit, only for a question to come to mind. “Does Sonlettier not have things like this? You only really told me about the, um, regional dialects.”

Sammy hummed a note before answering. “I learned about Dworfen in lessons, so I have the urge to repeat everything I know—something of a trained reflex. Rest assured, I do not have much else interesting to share and won’t bore you with the boring bits.”

Julie almost said that she wouldn’t mind the boring bits if Sammy was the one telling her, but stopped herself, thinking it was too shameless, what with how she’d been acting all morning.

In the silence that followed, Julie stayed at attention. She had remembered she was, in fact, a guard. There just wasn’t much attention that needed to be paid. The sea churned to the east, the road ahead and behind them clear, and the view inland was that of sparse shrubs and the odd tree before coming to overlapping hills.

Now that Sammy had mentioned it, Julie couldn’t remember a time when there hadn’t been a hill off in the distance.

While Julie was focused on that, Sammy lightly stepped behind her, entirely silent. Then Sammy touched Julie’s waist, making her jump. A giggle slipped out, not that Sammy wasn’t particularly trying to keep it in, and she took a last step closer, looping her arm around to hold Julie in a gentle embrace.

“Do you mind?” Sammy quietly asked.

“N-no,” Julie mumbled, but her body betrayed her and tensed up.

Sammy stilled, thinking through what she wanted to do. Finally, she whispered, “Julie.”

“Um, yeah?”

Sammy let out a long breath, tickling Julie’s ear, then gave Julie a gentle squeeze. “While asleep, did I by chance touch you inappropriately?”

Silence.

With every second, Julie’s face grew hotter, the intense blush noticeable even on her browned skin. “N-no,” Julie mumbled.

Despite the same answer as before, Sammy felt the difference in Julie’s body, which confused her. She guessed that she might have misunderstood the guilt. “Then, did you happen to touch me?” she softly asked.

“No!” Julie quickly said.

Sammy didn’t think that was a lie; however, she was now left with no clear answer. But that itself was an answer. If nothing had happened in the night, then it could only be a poisonous thought.

“You said you do not mind this, is that true?” Sammy asked.

Julie said, “Yes.”

Taking Julie at her word, Sammy pulled her closer and left a light kiss on her neck. Julie shivered, breath caught in her throat, but didn’t try to move away. “Is something worrying you?” Sammy asked.

“N-no.”

The same answer, yet Sammy again found it different. “I am not going to ask you to share anything you do not wish to say, but please do not lie to me,” she said.

Numb with guilt, Julie just stood still and waited for Sammy to say or do something. However, all Sammy did was hold her, a gentle pressure that slowly comforted her. The mental chill that had made every touch sting with guilt melted into a fluffy warmth.

Only when Sammy felt Julie relax did she say, “My heart is in your hands, be gentle with it.”

To Julie, those words said so plainly had so much weight to them. No, it was because they were said so plainly that they were so heavy, she knew. Not a joke, but a reminder that what had happened couldn’t be taken back.

It was a different responsibility than the one she’d taken on months ago, than the one she’d thought she had taken on a month ago. She couldn’t even remember what she’d thought being another woman’s lover had meant any more. But she hadn’t expected this.

That wasn’t to say she disliked this new responsibility, though.

With her guilt softened, she turned in Sammy’s gentle embrace and gave a brief kiss, then hid her embarrassment by resting her chin on Sammy’s shoulder.

As for Sammy, she simply smiled. A good morning kiss was better late than never.

After holding each other in silence for a while, Sammy whispered, “I need to pee.”

Julie snorted, unable to hold in the burst of laughter. But she didn’t let any more leak out as she shuffled back. “There’ll be a village nearby—we can walk,” she said.

To her surprise, Sammy pouted. “No need, here is fine,” she said, her gaze moving over to a patch of bushes.

It would be far from the first time, but Julie was reluctant with how open the area was. Coming up with a different excuse, she said, “We, we don’t know if the leaves are… suitable.”

Sammy seemed to deflate at that, her pout going from stubborn to sad. “Can I say something strange?”

Julie wasn’t sure how to take that, but said, “Okay?”

Looking out at the sea now, Sammy let out another sigh. “For you, it may be ordinary, but I grew up in the Royal Palace where I was held to the highest standards. For me, it is… very refreshing in many ways.”

Julie bit her lip, but eventually gave in. “That is pretty strange.”

That brought back Sammy’s smile, gentle and warm. “Indeed, I am pretty and strange, even for a princess.”

Chuckling, Julie knew better than to indulge Sammy any more and instead moved over to the horses. “If it… gets too much, we can use a cloth,” she quietly said.

Sammy hummed a note in reply, coming to Julie’s side. So they briskly walked with Julie leading the horses along.

Fortunately (for Julie), it wasn’t long before a town came into sight. Although not particularly bigger than some of the others they’d passed, it was like an oil painting compared to watercolours, the buildings looking more sturdy, less transient, some partly made of brick and decorated with brassy metals.

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“Ah, this seems to be a capital town of sorts,” Sammy said.

Julie thought back to what Sammy had told her earlier. “Is this for the, um, petty kingdom?”

“It’s fair enough and more sensible to call it a county, but yes. This is where the taxes are gathered and such, while the petty king will nominally live at the nearby castle,” Sammy said, looking inland.

Julie looked there too, but couldn’t see anything but hills and trees.

What was convenient for them about it being the county capital was that it had an actual stable. There was even a farrier, so Sammy suggested they call the day short and have the horses’ shoes reset—very pleased with herself for remembering the term. Julie agreed.

Although it was somewhat early, they went for lunch, Sammy excited to treat Julie with more Dworfen cuisine. But the “restaurant” they went to catered to the common folk, nearly every food on offer something battered and fried in oil. That said, Julie was one of the common folk and quite liked the fried croutons. Sammy, with her more refined taste, preferred the beer-battered onion rings dipped in a black sauce with a pungent smell and strong flavour.

When Julie thought about it, she was surprised she could stomach the food. Back at the barracks, fatty foods had been too much for her; they had thankfully been served only for special occasions.

She asked Sammy about it and Sammy said, “I wonder? Well, a proper batter helps, keeping the inside from soaking up too much oil. Oh and a lot of the ocean fishes are rather fatty, so they have some tricks. I think vinegar helps.”

Julie couldn’t tell how true that was, but she couldn’t think Sammy would knowingly lie to her. So she asked Sammy to ask for vinegar and she sprinkled some over the fried fish that was, supposedly, the main dish of her lunch. Trying it, she found it tasted better… maybe. It was hard to tell.

After lunch, their afternoon free, they wandered around the town. As expected of a more urban place than the fishing villages, there were all kinds of stores and services. A clothing shop sold wool strangely patterned in a kind of colourful grid. A carpenter sold whittled birds and animals, some lifelike and some exaggerated. There was even a merchant dedicated solely to tea, his warehouse packed with foreign teas and all kinds of Dworfen plants suitable for brewing, already dried and neatly packaged.

But what surprised Julie the most was something far more ordinary: an archery range. It was on the outskirts of the town and large, busy even in the midday heat, both well-worn and well maintained.

Sammy was just as curious. Although she knew archery was still an important part of the Dworfen culture—every man was expected to be proficient, and it was even an acceptable hobby for girls and young women—this all seemed excessive. After all, the fishing villages hadn’t had more than a few targets hung off a tree.

Those poor trees were more scars than bark on the one side.

However, she soon noticed that there were three people taking notes beside the archers; she confirmed her guess by asking a passer-by. “They are having an archery competition,” she told Julie. “Shall we compete?”

Julie chuckled, shaking her head. “What’s the point?”

“The reward, of course. If you win, you can ask anything of me,” Sammy said.

After a moment, Julie asked, “And if you win, then what?”

The smile Sammy gave in reply was more evocative than anything she could have said—or so Julie thought, a shiver running down her back. But Sammy eventually spoke up. “I am rather satisfied with the reward I asked for last time,” she said.

It took Julie a moment to remember what exactly that reward had been: a kiss on the cheek.

Just remembering that, contrasting back then with now, Julie sank into a pool of emotions. How pretty she had thought Sammy at that time, how heroic, how embarrassing it had been to kiss Sammy and yet, in her heart, she had felt no hesitation. But that sentimental memory was almost painfully beautiful to her right now.

If their first meeting as young children had been where their fates had entwined, that second meeting had tied a knot—the reason why Julie was here with Sammy now.

So Julie found Sammy’s words sweet. She blushed, shy, unwilling to look at Sammy while unwilling to release her hand, squeezing it tight. And in a fit of shyness, she managed to say rather sweet words of her own.

“You don’t have to win to ask for a kiss.”

Sammy was surprised for a moment, then fell into a beautiful smile, bowing her head as she was unwilling to share it with anyone but Julie—and Julie was rather noticeably not looking at her right now. She wanted to ask if this was the same woman who had been so cold this morning, but she didn’t want to bring up what they’d already put to rest.

With the rewards in place, Sammy asked around, wanting to know how to enter. She learned it was sponsored by Lady Yewry, the third child and only daughter of Petty King O’keynocker. Though Julie asked, Sammy didn’t know anything in particular about this family, just that it was common for nobles of all standings to sponsor competitions like this.

In the end, there was no registration needed and so they waited their turn while watching the locals compete. From what Sammy heard, some of the working men had competed at dawn and more would at the end of the day. From who Sammy could see now, it was half young boys perhaps around ten years old, then a third were girls in their early teens, everyone else not particularly grouped by age.

None that they saw were all that good. Nearly all of them could competently hold the bow and land an arrow near the target, but few were scoring points and, even then, only a pair of young men scored on all three arrows.

After a trio of children—the girl in the group proudly boasting that her arrow had gone the furthest—it was their turn.

Although some had brought their own bow, the official had some hanging on a stand. Sammy was a bit disappointed, though, only seeing hunting bows. “If we could have a man’s bow, thank you,” she said to the official, bowing her head.

The man looked worn down, his hair thin and face wrinkled, but he politely smiled as if he’d practised every day of his life. “Of course, ma’am.”

He took one down and offered it to Julie; she looked at Sammy and Sammy nodded, gesturing for her to go first. So she did, stepping onto the mark, a barrel of arrows at her side.

Despite the shorter length of the bow, Julie found it to be just as heavy to pull as the longbows she’d trained with. But, used to the weight, she drew back the bowstring cleanly, held for a moment, then let loose an arrow.

Unlike the fun of the last “competitors”, this arrow thudded into the target.

A second, a third, she neatly placed them all close, two in the centre mark and one just out. As soon as the last landed true, a cheer erupted from the onlookers. It almost startled Julie, jerked from out of her focus, but she quickly realised what was happening.

Leaning in, Sammy whispered, “You are rather popular,” showing Julie a mischievous smile.

“Well, you’ll be too,” Julie mumbled back.

Sammy giggled, covering her mouth. Then she turned to the official. “Do you happen to have a war bow?” she asked in Dworfen.

The man hesitated, first from surprise and then because he was desperately thinking if he knew where one was, before turning to the trio of officials writing things down. “The sir wants a war bow—do we have any?”

Sammy didn’t correct him, waiting patiently as the one ran off, telling Julie some of the things she overheard the crowd saying. And what a crowd it now was, eagerly whispering to each other about the “war bow”.

Eventually, the errant official returned, holding a quiver of sturdier arrows and a bow that wasn’t much longer than the hunting bow, but it was thicker. He offered it to Julie, only for her to shake her head.

“Thank you very much,” Sammy said, plucking the bow and quiver from him.

He stared down at his hands for a moment, then looked up. But Sammy was already at the mark, holding up the heavy bow without strain and testing the string, a look of amusement on her face.

“Is that a hunting bow for men?” Julie asked.

“It is a bow for hunting men,” Sammy replied, her voice neither light nor heavy.

Julie almost thought it a joke, but she saw the seriousness in Sammy’s eyes—the same look as when Sammy spoke of the times before the Catastrophe. She said no more and left Sammy to shoot.

Most of the crowd couldn’t see, but those that could felt disappointed, thinking they had misunderstood. After all, it was already impressive for the skinny lad to shoot so well with a man’s bow; it was unthinkable for this slender lady, dressed in strange clothes, to draw a war bow.

So they assumed it was simply her personal bow and arrows, and they thought nothing of her drawing it cleanly nor holding it steadily. But a few, noticing just how still she held the drawn bow, anticipated she would be as good as her partner.

The arrow flew, a sharp twang then a heavy thud, heavier than any of Julie’s arrows, sinking so deep that barely the end showed. And it had landed in the centre mark, snuggling amongst Julie’s arrows.

In a deep silence that stretched across the crowd, she landed not two, but nine more, rather enjoying the feel of the bow. It gave her a sense of power. On her journey, she knew well that she would need power to keep herself and Julie safe.

With no more arrows, she returned the bow to the official, bowing her head. “Thank you again.”

Then she held Julie’s hand and started walking off, quietly asking Julie if she could redeem a kiss for every arrow she’d landed true. Only, after a few steps, a different official rushed after them, saying, “Sir and miss, please wait!”

Sammy frowned, sighed, then turned around. She whispered to Julie what he’d said before saying in Dworfen, “We are both women.”

That shocked him for a moment, but it was rather believable that Julie was a woman after having just seen a more feminine woman draw an even heavier bow, so he quickly bowed deeply, almost falling over.

“My apologies! Misses, may I record your names?” he asked.

Sammy politely smiled. “No need, we were simply having fun.”

He winced, his expression pained, and he bowed again. “Please, misses. Lady Yewry would most like to meet these splendid competitors,” he said.

Sammy could unfortunately sympathise with him, knowing how troublesome it would be for the officials if Lady Yewry wasn’t an understanding sort. So she whispered to Julie, having a quick back and forth, before turning back to the official.

“We are in a hurry, but we can wait until tomorrow midday. If Your Lady wants to see us, we can meet her,” Sammy said, politely smiling.

The official let out a sigh of relief, bowing again. “Thank you, misses,” he said.

After Sammy gave their names and where they were staying, she and Julie left. On their slow way through the crowd, though, she happened to hear a child and mother talking.

“Are all foreigners so strong?”

“Oh yes, they grow up on milk and meat.”

Sammy giggled and, thinking that exchange too funny not to share, whispered it to Julie. Julie chuckled too, rubbing her cheek. “I’m not sure if I’d call half of what they served us meat,” she mumbled, softly smiling.

“I am sorry my family’s catering is not to your satisfaction,” Sammy wryly said.

Julie bit her lip, hesitating over what to say, then mumbled an apology. But Sammy just laughed and squeezed her hand.

“After this is all over, I shall ensure your only culinary complaint is how fat you’re getting,” Sammy said.

Julie didn’t say anything, but her cheek would’ve been quite warm if Sammy had touched it.

Although they made it out of the crowd, the rumour of the talented foreigners somehow preceded them wherever they went. It wasn’t exactly troublesome, but it wasn’t easy to relax, people looking at them and whispering.

Some even interrupted them. A group of children stopped in front, pretending to pull back a bow; a teen boy (his friends egging him on from nearby) challenged them to a flex off, showing his own skinny biceps; the shopkeeper asked if they were married, commenting on her single sons as she did.

To that last person, Sammy simply replied, “We are,” which threw off the shopkeeper for the rest of their visit to the shop. And when Julie asked what that had been about, it was her turn to be thrown off.

But, if Sammy had been listening closely—and she had—she would have heard Julie mutter, “We aren’t married yet.”

Having had a look around most of the town, they retired to the inn for an afternoon of reading. Like the last time, Sammy insisted on being both Julie’s seat and dictionary, whispering in her ear whenever she hesitated over a word.

For the evening, they had fresh fish seared on an open fire. Julie seemed to like it and Sammy was happy to indulge her. Then, back at the inn, they slow danced to Sammy’s gentle song until drowsiness came.

A peaceful end to a slow day.

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