The view from the hot springs should have been a familiar sight, but as she looked out towards the far-off city and its spiraling castle, there was only the distant past. Untouched, unchanged, frozen in time while she had been carved anew. It almost upset her to know that this was her future, that in a day she would return to her duties and turn back the pages. She did not want to retread her steps, not here nor to the Nightshade Court, trapped on either side by obedient responsibility.

  Her feet dangled into the warm waters, sighing but refusing herself more. Maybe she was returning to her old, prim and proper ways after all. It felt strangely exposing, despite her body being no mystery to the other initiates in the court. Now, with the woman who knew her best from her former life, she had the urge to cover her body or sink neck-deep below the bubbles and steam.

  The only way was forward, but for a night, she did not have be-

  “My princess.” Her strong but pleasant tone was accented by the clank of metal, black-scaled armor littering the ground in an untidy rhythm. She refused to look back towards her protector, the grooves of her body still well engraved into a weary mind.

  “Was five years truly enough time to forget my name, Calli?” Alexandra teased in her wispy pitch, though she flinched at the clatter as the rest of Callista’s armor slid free and onto a nearby stone. The quiet could return, at least, save for the curious animals and the hiss of the alluring spring.

  The princess thought she heard a tiny laugh, though with her head forced forwards and body coiled up, Callista’s voice barely reached her ears.

  “My Alexandra gives a very different insinuation, miss.”

  “Does the kingdom still forbid such things? I thought some progress would have been made by now.”

  The princess turned her head to the left to show her sneer, but found that her royal protector had deftly moved to her right and was now behind her. She expected a tap to the head in disapproval, or for her to tut with her hands on her hips. But neither came, instead just a thumb brushing through a spare strand of hair, shifting it back into place. It felt tender and careful, the way a family heirloom would be cleaned, for fear of breaking it.

  Alexandra felt small, and she pouted.

  The tension of the water’s surface broke, sending stray droplets all across her body. Callista disappeared under the translucent barrier, diving in and gliding beneath the water. Watching closely, the exposed muscles, the practiced swimming, the way her legs wriggled through the water to propel her- it was a grace she had never known before, spreading her wings and taking flight right before her eyes. She had never gotten the chance to watch her swim, and yet she was as talented with it as she was with everything.

  Before, she marvelled. Now though, a single drop of jealousy tainted the basin and turned it to the color of sludge.

  But she still watched. It would have been a travesty to not appreciate it.

  Beauty and strength.

  Grace and power.

  It was good she wore a helmet and heavy armor in her line of duty. If not, she would have been stolen away by a suitor in her absence, or long before it.

  Now that the thought entered her mind, there was no reason the woman swimming along couldn’t have formed a bond in half a decade. With no princess to protect, she would have had many moons to find a lover, to be courted (or more likely to be the one doing the courting), to have the roots of passion twist around her heart and bloom into eternity.

  Her fist tensed, then released as Callista came up for air. With only her head peering barely past the water, it gave her the unfamiliar sensation of the much taller woman looking up. The illusion would be broken as soon as she stopped treading water, but for now, Alexandra squirmed while her lifelong guard was resting her head against her calf, considering something in silence.

  Where had such a deep frown come from? It looked pitying, solemn on her face, stealing away the joy of an evening swim with a long lost friend.

  It wasn’t- no, the Nightshade Court had hardly stolen away her beauty. Only fractured it. A priceless, cracked vase still held its value. She kept telling herself that, every night.

  Her fears were confirmed as Callista navigated the trauma detailed on her body, looking more openly than she might have expected. Bold, to bring attention to something so ugly about her.

  “...you must be disappointed.” When she spoke, Alexandra forced past the lump in her throat, nearly choking down the words in dismay.

  “Disappointed?” Those keen eyes were on her now, and that curious tone almost made the princess second-guess if she’d understood the meaning of her staring.

  “You see it all now. The scars and injuries that spoil me.” Her head turned away. Years of effort taught her not to cry or show emotion. This was the hardest she had to work to repel it, to stuff it all under the water’s surface where it couldn’t be found. The urge to flounder into the spring grew stronger.

  But the moment was stolen away. Callista’s emotions shifted, contemplative, shaking her head as she gripped one of Alexandra’s calves and drew it above the water, out until it was straight.

  Around her ankle, a discolored bruise still lingered, though if it had bothered her while walking, Callista hadn’t detected even the faintest limp. It did look unsightly though, if not painful, catching her eye even from beneath the water.

  “Do you think my scars make me ugly, my princess?”

  Damn it all.

  Her attention was back, forced to look past her own injury to see Callista.

  “No- even a blind man could sense your radiance. If anything, they suit you well.”

  She was tenderly brushing along the injured foot while she listened, watchful for any reaction that might imply she was hurting her charge.

  A smile found her lips, fingers halting.

  “Our wounds and blemishes are not shameful; the only shame I have is that I could not be there to protect you from them. The scars form the tapestry of life’s stories. If I could not stop them from being written, I can at least listen to each one and know them by heart.”

  Her head tipped downwards, placing a kiss just above the foot where the bruise was a deep, purple hue. For someone that did not know Alexandra, it would have seemed like she didn’t react. But the faintest jolt, the absence of a biting retort, her gaze not meeting Callista’s even as she offered it from her place in the water- it spoke volumes.

  The story of that injury, just a faint memory now.

  “The Court is harsh to their recruits, as true as the rumors say. But it is not the whole story. It is self-selective, weeding out the souls that would succumb to a worse fate later in training. I was taken with a dozen others with my same aspirations into the wilderness, deep into the woods, no direction or aid or supplies. Only those that could return back to our master would be considered true initiates.”

  Growing quiet, her protector nodded at the words and carved them into her own memory.

  “I could not find the road back before sunset, and that far out, night monsters have free reign. I’d never seen one in person before then, and I had no light to defend myself with.” The words were even, though from so long ago, the fearful experience held less weight.

  Callista brushed black hair from her face, sticking to her forehead, taking a second look at the faded wound.

  “A night creature would have left your foot necrotic and blackened.” Callista had seen her share of such cases in the infirmary, a brutal reality. It enraged her that her princess had been forced to play at this needlessly dangerous task, but she kept her composure, not wanting to miss a single sound from Alexandra.

  “If it had caught me, it would have. They’re impossibly fast, but poor climbers. As was I, but hysteria has a habit of forcing the most out of us.” Her voice took a wistful tune, having not thought about her initiation in some time.

  “I held myself up on a narrow branch at the top of one of those lofty trees for the entire night, while it circled and howled and tried to claw up. I’ve never been so tired, not even during those prolonged sessions during royal ceremonies. It was like my body was fading away, inch by inch.”

  Would it be okay to hug her? The quiet observer considered if it would be right, but her princess showed no signs of trauma or pain- she had never seen this side of her. She had always been a bit stubborn, especially when motivated, but never considerably tough. Long journeys to other capitals and nights out around a campfire rarely seemed to have brought her joy in the past. She agonized and complained and hardly wanted Callista to leave her side.

  It was selfish to say she missed the Alexandra she could coddle and protect.

  “When morning came and it had to flee, I tried to get down but,” Her hand skimmed along her leg, meeting her protector’s fingers and resting on top of them. “My body gave out. I slipped and fell. I don’t remember a lot after. I must have limped for some time to get back onto the path, then more to find the road and stumble upon a merchant that pitied me enough to bring me into town. My ankle looked far worse in the following month, but it never faded.”

  Her hand retreated, as did her eyes, distant once more.

  “How many others returned?” It was quiet enough that Callista hoped it could be ignored if it suited the other woman.

  “Just one recruit, I do not know the fates of the others. He left soon after. He seemed- …shaken. He must have been a good deal younger than I.” Her voice joined her partner in quiet contemplation.

  The massaging, soothing rhythm returned, and when she looked down, she was surprised by the smile she found.

  “I promise, before I am old and gray, we shall find that tree together, and I will turn it to a stump for you.”

  The happiness was contagious, and the trepidation was gone.

  When she said it, it seemed like such a clear plan, a sense of finality. Like it would be the solution, and that was that. It was bordering on childish, but she needed that again after so long. While she worried about love taking Callista’s heart in her absence, maybe she should have feared that her own heart had been laced in chains and barbs. Only one woman had the deft fingers to untangle the mess, and here she was.

  Sensing the story was done, Callista’s fingers returned the leg to the water, lifting herself up to rest beside the opposite knee. With her settled against Alexandra’s inner thigh, the princess considered scolding her for being in such an improper position, but that would have meant staring down at her to bark the orders. Which would have meant looking at her there. Which would have meant suppressing the blush that already formed when she imagined how it must look.

  The rattle of chains, turning to dust.

  Her knee looked a tone darker, like it had been blackened by tar, with some refusing to come off even after hours of cleaning. Little blemishes spotted it, but it seemed similar to her ankle- signs of having looked far worse, but healed with time and care.

  “That’s also a story that feels more like a dream.” Alexandra knew where she was looking without even confirming it herself.

  “The apprentices all stayed together in a packed, run-down tavern until you’re ready to be assigned a proper master and a town to work out of. It was impossible to get up at night and navigate the floor of bedrolls without stepping on someone’s arm.” Coughing, she felt weary even talking about the poor sleep she got, eyes half-lidded.

  “But- the building is nothing more than ash now. All it took was one night, where we woke up to the smell of smoke and sulphur. The whole place was in flames as if all the walls had caught ablaze at the same time. Pure silence, then pure panic.” Tender palms soothed her, holding tight so she wouldn’t float away into those awful memories.

  “I was the first to the door, while the others were still getting their bearings. The door was jammed, so I forced the knob with my thigh and-” Alexandra’s fingers balled in the open air, then spread out in a burst, though her gaze was still askew.

  “The fire hit my knee before I even knew what had happened. We all stumbled out, every one of us, but we were wheezing for days. I don’t know if the Nightshades ever found out, or simply wouldn’t tell us, but I never learned who did it. One of the other apprentices thought it may have been a test, but I always held firm that it was some other mercenary group.”

  “The weak links of a group with already scarce numbers are easy targets.” Her hands retreated from their gesturing, clasping into her lap in finality as well as returning her to some modicum of modesty as she shielded her body.

  “Well.” The weight on the princess shifted, watching out of the corner of her eye as her personal guard lifted herself up another few inches and requested her attention with a prideful tilt of her head.

  “I’m delighted.” She knew if there was a gap in her words, the royal would jump down her throat, so she hurried on. “Your bravery was never in question, but to lead a group through a burning building to safety, to be the first to break a door down and cast yourself out into danger, it does bring me joy to accompany a woman such as you.”

  Callista had seemed more pleased than Alexandra had expected with each story, hips swaying beneath the water. She had half-expected for her guardian to have interjected more in abject horror, but that was not her way. A strong, burdened woman, unbothered by the increasing load of responsibility for words that would never reach the king and queen. The stories were nothing to be shameful about, but the stories were not meant for every ear.

  Goddess above. Alexandra really had not considered how her first meeting with her parents might go. There was still time to run, and plenty of directions to take flight to, but she knew just as well as Callista did that escape was an illusion.

  All paths led home, to her old home.

  It was her own burden, only set aside during her time hiding in the Nightshade Court, always meant to be reprised.

  “The poisoning attempts, they must have been thwarted, if I’m to be brought home?” She hadn’t thought to question it until just a day away from her kingdom.

  “Not thwarted.” Now with her chest against Alexandra’s lap, she paused her gentle climb to give the princess her attention. “We believed we had found the culprit many times, but they would always resume. Eventually though, they stopped. I could not say why or how. Peculiar, but the queen sent for you once it had been safe for a few months.”

  The words came off as distant, unsatisfied- and Alexandra shared the sentiment.

  It grew silent, both women retreated into their own minds, not willing to shatter it to continue.

  “Mm.” The only way was to continue up the canvas, thumb rubbing against a scar along the upper half of her stomach. Pale skin gave way to the bumpy, lighter slash, a ridge that stretched midway across in either direction.

  Alexandra didn’t respond until the third trip against it, too lost to remember what the two had been doing before. Thoughts of her parents stole away her focus, always a tough pair to navigate even in her mind.

  “Ah- that was from our first week of sparring. We were all ill-trained and had no sense of how to pull our punches. I left my stomach exposed and before I knew it I was keeled over and drenched in blood.”

  The words were more curt, not the joyous story of triumph, but of failure. A reminder that she had been a novice, and what it had almost cost her.

  Her fingers trembled, ducking her head down.

  “It was the first time in my life that I felt close to death. That if I closed my eyes and collapsed, that it would be stolen from me. It weighs on you, that I had such an option.”

  It only made her shiver worse, that Callista nodded not in sympathy, but in empathy.

  The comfort of her head against her stomach deftly moved the conversation on, as the scar was obscured by wet hair and the best intentions. Around them, the light was dying, leaving the black strands to stretch like fingers out from the dark, protective or possessive.

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  Callista’s hands reached upwards to anchor herself, one resting on Alexandra’s hip and the other on her side. When she squeezed just below her ribs, the princess yelped, only held in place by the other hand. Her grip was quick to retreat to safety, holding lower and looking apologetically- first at Alexandra, who was stifling a pained expression, then where she had grabbed.

  “The price of an ill-advised duel.” She spoke through gritted teeth, watching Callista lift herself up to investigate the jagged gash along her side. It was raised and an angry red, still needing time to fade and dull. It looked worse than the one on her stomach.

  “My skills with a rapier are quite poor. I should have taken your offer to teach me when I was younger.” Brushing white curls away, she did her best to make light of the situation and present a warm demeanor. The glow in her eye was there, but the temperament of her words ran cold.

  “A superior mistress berated me for every detail of my training for months, until she goaded me into combat for my honor. I would have liked to say I left a wound more grave on her, but my blade did not touch her.”

  From her place beneath the princess’s chest, she imagined her lithe arms holding the narrow sword, correcting the sway of her body as she dropped into her guard or an unstable thrust with no body or feet to carry the sword arm behind it. Her shorter stature obfuscated long arm, and she imagined with the same training that protectors had received, her skills with dueling would have been much to speak of.

  “Would you take me as your mentor?” For the first time since she stopped swimming, Callista’s eyes left her charge, staring up into the myriad of stars that accented the endless sky, drawing beautiful images on its celestial body.

  “We would have to train at night, but I promise to teach you what I know. As the guardian of your honor, it would be yours. But I understand if you do not wish to raise a sword for the rest of your days- that is my charge, after all. Yours is simply to-”

  “Calli. My Calli.” The words jabbed forth, poised.

  “You’re rambling again. Of course I would love to learn from you, you idiot. I just refused it before out of- mm.”

  Another drop of jealousy, though it hardly mattered after the first.

  “You are a champion at your craft and I hardly knew a thing. I did not want to embarrass myself.”

  “And I am no expert in dress nor beauty, but that is why I’ve always consulted you.” Somehow, the quiet guard always knew the right words to say to trap her in place, yet never with the same teasing sneer that Alexandra offered in kind.

  “I would contest one of those.” Huffing, arms folded over her chest.

  “My new scorched armor is quite stunning, I’d agree.”

  Alexandra could not have eyed Callista with a more heavy dose of exasperation.

  Her protector’s laughter was short-lived, taking hold of the shorter woman’s arm and turning it to look at the inside of her forearm. It was a blueish-purple pattern, stretching out like roots or veins across the majority of her arm, but pulsing with residual energy. It had a certain glow to it, a dying candle that stood out in the newfound night. The lightning streaked across, yet seemed completely surface-level.

  The shrug that Alexandra forced forwards was not reassuring.

  “We were trained in defense, though it was not our primary focus. One of the mistresses wanted to teach us the delicate art of deflecting m-”

  “Magical bolts.” Callista’s thumb smoothed along the surface as she completed the thought for her, sensing the static of the aura beneath. “Thunder aspected. It’s the most common offensive spell.”

  Her face contorted into an uncommon anger, her idle hand sinking into the water so she could claw it into a fist unseen.

  But hiding emotions was Alexandra’s strong suit, not hers, and she soon had a tender hand cradling her cheek, smoothing against the rough skin.

  “Calli…” Distant words, afraid, not of her but of past incendiary consequences of caring.

  “It is a reckless method of training. In a body that has no natural mana, magical strikes can linger and be malignant if they hit the wrong part of the body.” Her fingers drew a line, away from the arm.

  “The chest.” A pressure, against her rib.

  “The throat.” A lighter touch, against the jugular.

  “The head.” Softer still, mirroring the caressing that had now stopped.

  “Callista. You’re scaring me.”

  The bubbling anger dissipated, lost in a wide-eyed realization. Her hand retreated back.

  “Princess, forgive me. I did not mean to do so. I worry over you. These fears play at my mind and I am an unfit protector if I put them upon you.” Her head lowered in apology, sinking deeper into the water.

  With a stern grip, Alexandra hooked under her shoulders, lifting with a strength that rattled the despondent woman.

  “Everything about their court is reckless. They are less akin to nurturing gardeners than they are wilderness foragers, picking out only the best from what had the will to endure in those conditions alone.”

  She smiled, even as a wounded creature.

  “But I survived. I command you to stand at my side in pride of this present, not with ire towards the past. As your princess.”

  Her hands folded into her lap once more, but Callista’s feet hooked against the rocks at the edge of the water, keeping herself set in place. She had been ordered, and somehow, that made the glimmer in her eyes come back naturally.

  “As you wish.” Somehow, she bowed in the water, and made it look graceful too.

  “Shall we continue?” Callista lifted to where it had been before, exposing the top half of her body as spring water trickled down and returned to where it had came.

  Alexandra nodded, watching her stare at the pair of shallow, short slashes against her left breast that formed an x. It stood out amongst the scrapes and wear of her training, mostly because of how precise and intentional it was. She heard the exhale from its bearer, and wondered if it would be worth passing over.

  “A cocky recruit that joined after I did. A duelist by trade, apparently famed for his skills. He made a mockery of me during training, not to teach me, but to mark me in a way to show how outclassed I was. It happened before I knew he had struck me, and he boasted he would do the same to my hair the next time we met blades.”

  She rubbed the back of her neck, laughing nervously.

  “We never got to see the truth of that. He succumbed to poison, during our practice to resist its effects. I took no joy in burying him, though the view we chose for him overlooking the knight’s training grounds must have given him some solace in the afterlife.”

  Nodding along, Callista took the time to rise up and stand at her full height, a head and a half taller with the water up to her thighs and the princess still sitting. It was good that Alexandra had been allowed to finish her thought first. The water had shown off her grace. The open air showed off the muscle and strength that it took to be a royal guard. It was a sturdy, unassailable posture, a bulwark of a woman. Calluses formed on her hands and between her thumb and index finger, etched long ago just the same as the arms that made a mockery of any sword. She had not withered in the five years of inaction- if anything, she surpassed Alexandra’s memory of her and the mystique her own mind crafted around the woman.

  It was everything she had not herself been. And yet, it was everything that she had reluctantly crawled towards as a member of the court. The added heft of her arm, to wrestle down enemies. Legs that could support the wild sprints through a market square just as well as bound through the uneven dirt of the Endless Forest, lost to the shadows. Everything marred, muddied, dirtied. Rougher.

  Finding her footing, and ignoring the transfixed gaze that only one woman was allowed to hold towards her, she took hold of Alexandra’s right hand, cupping it in both of hers and swallowing it up in her massive grip. The coarse knuckles, cracked and dark, drew her in more deeply than the mosaic of scars, holding them so they were right before her eyes.

  With her other hand, the princess held firm onto her own hip and beamed, offering the well-used digits with no hint of reluctance.

  “Unlike a rapier, I took to grappling and unarmed combat much more fondly. Those dances, they came to my aid. My footwork outshined my peers and I became quite feared. I could teach you a thing or two!” The prideful tone had quickly descended into gloating.

  “There was this one day, we sparred for so long and I had so thoroughly outclassed my opponents that when you looked at my hands, you could-” It took her this long, during her short pause to breathe, to notice Callista’s face, sorrow with a barely-present touch to the trained hand and no sign that she was listening.

  Alexandra chewed on her words, and swallowed.

  “It was in jest, when I said I could teach you.”

  Callista took hold of her ring finger, inspecting it with tenderness.

  “Why is it, of all things, that I mourn your lovely hands?” The words, spoken out of turn and out of the trappings of a princess and guardian.

  It was a question that had no answer, not tonight. Too many issues loomed over a darkened horizon. It could be hidden behind tomorrow’s burdens that only grew when left unattended. For now, it was a somber moment, one that made her choke down the rest of her tale and her excitement. Not all stories were meant for all ears.

  Moving on meant Callista having to let go of her hand, and Alexandra had not been handled with a gentle touch in some time. Ever since their final meeting, if she thought back. Though the energy had changed, the mutual care persisted. She knew it would. Callista was a lifelong friend. The fates were ill-equipped to keep the two apart or to wedge a gap between them. Blades and walls had yet to be forged that could split deep enough, between a protector and her duty.

  Yes, duty. Obligation. A bond made in blood.

  Alexandra considered something she’d never processed. In the same way that Callista had been trained from a young age to be a royal guard for her, she had been raised to be a princess. The choice was never in either of their hands. It was less destiny, and more predetermination.

  Her feelings had since soured on the life of a royal.

  There was nothing to say that, abandoned for so long, Callista had no second-guessing either.

  But there she was, down there, fretting over cracked porcelain. The same protective, watchful Callista. She only flashed a look over at her princess briefly, and that was enough to make a judgement off of for her.

  “You have that look, Alexandra. The one where you chew at your lip because your mind has its fangs dug into something and refuses to let go. Share your thoughts?” She still kept massaging the princess’s knuckles, but her attention was back towards the woman opposite her.

  “Would we be friends, if we met under a different moon?”

  A beat, staccato.

  “If we met under this moon instead?” Her quick response and willingness to give credence to her anxious musing took Alexandra by surprise.

  “Perhaps. Maybe I as a priestess and you as a city guard?”

  “I’d protest any version of you being labeled as devout, my princess.”

  “It’s just a random thought!” She barked the words, yowling over the emerging laughter. “...idiot.”

  The chuckling stumbled along, undeterred, pouting silently until it was done.

  “Two strangers, then. Both drawn to the same hot spring in the bleakest of nights. Under a full moon and its judging eye.”

  She felt the perceptive stare cross over her again, just like what had started the whole exchange.

  “You’d still be a beautiful woman, caring, self-sacrificing but with the best intentions always in your heart. I think, duty-bound or not, yes…we would be good friends. Does that satisfy you?”

  Alexandra nodded, and her mind cleared.

  “It does, Calli. I wish we had more moments unbound from it all.”

  “As do I.”

  They shared a smile, and a quiet that gave room to investigate the skies.

  Beautiful little glimmers.

  …wonderful.

  She’d taken up stargazing, in Alexandra’s absence.

  It gave comfort, the shared sky, the blanket overhead that drew the day to a finale. She had never had a calm hobby, one without intrinsic value to her body or skills. Something done simply for joy, like music, or dance, or the arts. But staring up, into an infinity that was unbothered by anything, she felt like a speck. A speck, staring up at other little specks, in perfect harmony.

  The gap that cut through the sky, its own scar, hinted at something beyond.

  She often dreamed of what it was. The heavens, perhaps, peeking through just to give the living a taste of the future.

  Maybe they looked down at her the same way she looked up at them. Specks staring at other specks, still.

  Something so small could still be so meaningful, experience so much emotion and sorrow and passion and pain and hope and despair.

  Tiny little speck, I’ll watch over you.

  “Those dots below your neck,” Callista spoke before she lowered her head, catching the twist of Alexandra’s shoulders in a vain attempt to hide that she was staring. “They’re from the Nightshade Court’s outfit, correct?”

  The pair of red imprints on her collarbone were still fresh, dug in but not breaking skin. Perfectly round from the pins, forced far enough in to suit the attending mistress. It was a choking, uncomfortable sensation, stuffy and unwelcome even to a former royal.

  “Any time we performed our duties or talked to clients, we had to wear that awful thing. All the tightness of those corsets I used to wear every day, but none of the craftsmanship or the attendants to squeeze you into it. Elegant still on the surface, yes, but hideously itchy and cheap, to make it not so costly when we inevitably got blood on it.”

  Her own hand grazed the pair of divots, replacing where she had expected Callista to already be.

  “Odd. I’d hoped after a week that these would be gone. They’ll look garish in all those dresses. Goddess above, who knows if those will fit me well anymore.”

  She mused on that detail for only a moment, reminded that her protector was resting against her arm, now staring with glee at the princess’s more familiar patter.

  “As much as I adored seeing you with those frills and loose sleeves, the dress of a princess suits you far greater than a maid’s apron.” Callista spoke with a longing smile, even if it angered her charge.

  “Do not imagine me in the court’s uniform. It’s dreadful, unbecoming, and the stares- ugh. Even suitors were more behaved than the men and women on the streets.” Alexandra waved her finger in indignation, bumping Callista away with her shoulder.

  “Men and women? Mind yourself! I heard from a dignified bird that the kingdom forbade such things, my princess.” Like a fox, Callista looked sly and pleased with herself, leaning in to taunt Alexandra into nudging her away once more. She was not offered the satisfaction, just the all-too-common pouting and turning away. Her arms crossed in front of her chest, nose pointed up.

  Her protector exited her view. She only heard the sound of water dripping off of her body when she emerged from the springs, not treated to the sight.

  Begrudgingly.

  She was committed to the act though. To peek over would be to abandon her resolve, her glower, to be tempted so easily.

  She did not have to look after all. Her gaze was forced.

  Callista strided around Alexandra leisurely, long legs making the journey quick. The view of the surrounding forest was blotted out by her body, bending forward so her face and unruly, damp hair was the only view. The mocking expression had been tucked away, left to defer to her gentler side.

  Gingerly, she brushed the hair covering Alexandra’s right eye. Beneath, tied around her head, a cloth bandage hid her final scar. The pout disintegrated in that somber moment, sinking in place. Her legs pulled up from the water, tugging her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

  She felt Callista’s hand as it grazed the covering, never seeking to push it out of the way. Just skimming the bottom, yet not succumbing to the same sadness that was washing over the princess. The burden had been there ever since the two reunited, and she was hopelessly forced to see that she had failed in her job as her protector.

  The thought lingered, on that very first day she saw that bandage, to put up her sword.

  To stand beside her charge, her pride, her life’s work, while it was plain to see she had not fulfilled her duty…

  She could have insisted on training her. Shadowed her even against the queen’s wishes. Spilled the blood of those that detested her princess, and come to her aid. The vow she took, it did not have conditions or exceptions.

  I swear with all the strength of my soul, for the rest of my days, living or in death-

  Alexandra Gaistel, princess of the kingdom, you fall under my watch.

  My blood in place of yours.

  My flesh in place of yours.

  My bones in place of yours.

  My life in place of yours.

  This will forever be my truth, my pledge, through your final day.

  Your wall and your shield, in service to thee.

  It had repeated in her head, during the week of travel. When she tended the fire after Alexandra had fallen asleep, it played in her mind, reminded by that ragged bandage. An oath had shaped her life, and she had never dreamed of a day where she could not hold true to it.

  To the world, Alexandra had been toughened, both princess and warrior, and Callista truly hoped she would be respected for such.

  But to her-

  A part of her desperately held onto the image of her as a ghost orchid. Delicate, nurtured, preciously rare to see one thrive as well as her.

  Maybe that was her real failing.

  Consumed in her own thoughts, she hardly noticed the time, how long she had gingerly ran her fingers back and forth. Alexandra hadn’t objected, closing her eye and fidgeting quietly in place, mouth opening to speak, then closing, in perpetuity.

  Caught too in not knowing what to say, Callista couldn’t bring herself to break the stalemate. The only words that came to mind were grievous, figments of despair.

  Do not deem me an oathbreaker tomorrow, if you can find the kindness to do so.

  It would not be proper to plead. It was not her place.

  The princess tensed, still huddled up.

  “The others in the court were mean, but it felt like hazing rather than ill intent. Except one, a horrid man. He just-” She stopped, extending her arm out towards nothing and pointing with vicious emphasis.

  “He decided to make my life a hellish pain, as soon as he laid his sight on me. I think he must have known, maybe not specifically, but that I was some highborn.” The story raged along, filled with bitter hate. The tone was dissonant on her tongue.

  “Two-faced snake. So warm and tender with the others. Yet when we were alone-” Alexandra gagged. “Vile, repulsive. I shall not repeat his words. He injured me in ways that scars do not tell the story of.”

  “This eye- it was just the culmination of four years of torment. Doing a job with just the two of us, where he knew there would be no consequences.” Her head turned away from Callista, hand covering the right half of her face. The fingers that had been gently tracing along the bandage drew back.

  “Princess Gaistel.” Callista held that menacing conviction, not forced, but usually reserved for appearances in the royal chamber. She straightened up, looming.

  “Tell me a name. His life is forfeit.”

  Wincing, the princess turned with hesitation towards Callista. What she found in Alexandra’s eye was not weakness, but scornful venom. Hate. Like the words she’d spoken, it contorted her in a way that made the royal protector step back.

  “His body is rotting away in some gorge. I do not regret sacrificing an eye for his life.”

  Her voice trembled.

  Before she could sink silently into her despair, she was hugged.

  No- that wasn’t accurate. Tackled. Tumbled into the springs by the weight of her protector.

  As Alexandra descended into the warm waters together, surrounded by bubbles and her friend, she couldn’t help but smile. It was so stupid. You awkward, stupid woman, thinking it was appropriate to do that. Thinking it would help her, moments after recounting the worst moment of her life.

  And yet.

  The side of her head settled against Callista’s chest, and she closed her eye, feeling the both of them float to the surface, together.

  Even with the extra muscle and weight, she was easily held by Callista, with the help of the water. Arms wrapped around, protective, possessive. She could feel the smile beaming down at her without looking.

  It felt calming.

  It felt safe.

  It felt like home.

  “Thank you for entrusting me with your stories and pain. Promise me that- from now on, I will take on the burden of your future stories.”

  Alexandra grumbled, trying to look past her wet hair and failing miserably.

  “If you insist, Calli. Only if you promise in kind, that you’ll share your stories first, before you add to them on my behalf.”

  The arms around her body squeezed tighter.

  “Not tonight. But I vow it to you, my princess. It will be done.”