CHAPTER 39

Lanri watched the fights in the arena with interest that waxed and waned as the tournament dragged on. Mara and Ithella both had several more bouts, each of them winning them with varying levels of ease, and getting closer and closer to winning the whole deal. It was starting to look likely that they’d face each other in the final round, each of them having made it to the quarter finals.

The pool of contestants was getting so small at this point that the tournament organizers had planned breaks between rounds to give the duelists some time to catch their breath. Small shows were put on then, mostly displays of the latest advances in alchemy and magic. They were the sort of thing Faron used to drag Lanri to, and as much as she’d always wished those events were shorter, she felt wistful, seeing them again here in Amourot.

She settled against Seeker’s shoulder, and shivered a little. The sun was setting by now, so it was getting chilly, and she was getting tired. It was so easy to just rest her eyes for a moment, and–

Seeker nudged her awake. “They’re up, Dear,” she said, speaking loudly enough to overcome the noise of the crowd she’d managed to filter out during her nap.

Lanri yawned, and rubbed her eyes. “Which one?” She asked, as she blinked and tried to refocus her eyes.

“Both,” Seeker said. “They’re up against each other.”

Lanri straightened. “They’re in the finale? How long was I–”

“About an hour,” Seeker told her.

“I slept through a whole round?”

“It was only two fights, Dear.” Seeker squeezed her hand, and gestured towards the arena. “Both of them won, of course.”

Lanri looked where Seeker wanted her to, just in time to see Mara and Ithella march into the arena, side by side, cheered on by the packed audience. They were both holding glaives, and– “Are they holding hands?!” Lanri asked.

Seeker grinned. “They are.”

Judging by the noise the audience made, they all adored the reveal that the finalists were a couple. Lanri couldn’t blame them. She knew both of them very well by now, had seen them spar and train together so very often. She couldn’t imagine Mara would be able to beat Ithella, but she was certain it would be the longest and most involved fight of the night, especially when Ithella had chosen to wield a glaive like her Femme d’Arme.

They were both smiling as they walked into the middle of the field, neither wearing their bits yet, and seemingly talking to each other right until the fight would begin. Ithella pointed directly at Lanri, Seeker, and Mirabelle with her glaive as she said something, which made Mara look up at them and burst out laughing at whatever joke she’d made.

“Those two are such a good couple,” Lanri said, not able to stop herself from smiling at them. “I doubt they even care who wins.”

Seeker shook her head. “I think they care a lot, actually. They might not have a strong preference about the outcome, but they’re both heavily invested in it. They both want to win, but they’re both rooting for each other, too.”

“Do you think either of them actually expects Mara to win?” Lanri asked.

“Oh, gods, no,” Seeker said with a smirk. “Mara’s good. Very good, even. But Ithella has had decades to master what Mara has only had a few years to practice.”

“Five years,” Lanri specified. When Mirabelle and Seeker both gave her funny looks, she elaborated, “we talked about lots of stuff when getting that wasp ichor. Her dad apparently preferred the idea of her becoming a child soldier over learning anything about Ishara.”

As they both got to the center of the arena, the audience grew silent. The judge explained the rules for the last time that evening, and his voice boomed so loudly that Lanri was sure there was a spell involved. “Your bout is to the second unique hit. Any hit will be marked by a strong and obvious glow, and if there is any overlap between the glow of your first and second hits, the second hit doesn’t count.” He paused, and gestured at them to put the bits in their mouths, then continued once they did so. “You keep your bits in until I call the bout, losing them is forfeiting the match. Got it?”

Mara and Ithella both nodded at the man, then at each other. Even from in the stands, Lanri could see the fondness and eagerness in their eyes; they were looking forward to this.

“Then, begin!” Called the judge, stepping out of the way to leave them to their fight. The pair backed away from each other, glaives held adeptly at the ready. Lanri had seen them spar plenty in the past month, usually getting at least a few minutes of practice in each time they made camp.

When Mara made the first move to attack, that practice paid off for both of them. She stepped forward and swung the glaive down at an angle, which Ithella caught with her own weapon. She arrested the momentum of the attack easily, then knocked Mara’s glaive up and away before lunging in with a thrust.

Mara flicked her weapon around, using the butt of the shaft to deflect the attack, then moved in to strike Ithella with a flourish. Ithella blocked the strike adeptly, and took a step back to adjust her grip on her weapon while Mara did the same. In less than a second they’d both recovered, and they both moved in again.

As they fought, the crowd was getting louder and louder. Lanri recognized they were making a show of it, mixing in practiced sequences of jabs, thrusts, swipes, and parries with their actual attempts to score hits on each other, but to the people who didn’t know either of them, it was clearly a spectacle beyond anything they’d seen that night.

Mara swiped low to the ground, and Ithella caught the strike with the blade of her glaive. Then Ithella tried a powerful chop, but Mara swatted the attack away, and it harmlessly hit the stones with a clang.

Sharp raps of steel blades rubbing along each other, percussive knocks when the shafts met. The sounds of their duel came again and again, setting the pace for the audience’s cheering like drummers leading marching soldiers.

They both came close to scoring the first hit of the bout several times, but always managed to avoid it at just the last second. Another thrust from Ithella, batted up and back by Mara, quickly repaid in kind. The fight went on for minutes, ebbing and flowing as they both worked up a sweat.

Mara charged in, glaive held up high, and she feinted a strike. Ithella moved to block it. A mistake, it turned out. Mara elegantly moved her glaive around Ithella’s block, and swatted her in the belly with the flat of the blade. The audience roared as it started to glow, and the judge called the first hit.

“I’ll be damned…” Seeker mumbled under her breath as Mara and Ithella separated, and took ready positions again. “To think they had her guarding an empty field in Cerene.”

After only a few moments of reprieve, the couple resumed their duel. Ithella was more careful now, more reserved than before. She didn’t let Mara goad her into another practiced sequence again, instead keeping her distance, and only engaging when Mara forced her to.

And Mara did force her. The blonde guardswoman seemed to smell blood in the water, because she was relentless, chopping, thrusting, stabbing, and sweeping at her beloved, each attack forcing Ithella to take another step back in her evasions. The audience had grown quieter now, engrossed by the display, and seemingly all growing increasingly aware that as Ithella kept backing away, she was getting ever closer to the wall that encircled the arena.

The onslaught dragged on, relentless, continuous, until Mara had driven Ithella all the way to the retention wall, much to the dismay of the people on that side of the arena who couldn’t see them as clearly anymore. Mara hammered against Ithella’s glaive again and again, until Mara tried a grand, powerful sweeping attack. Ithella threw herself to the ground just in time for the attack to miss and embed the glaive’s blunted blade an inch into the wooden wall.

Mara managed to pull the weapon free as Ithella scrambled back to her feet, and had just fixed her grip when Ithella swiped at her ankles with her weapon, and the human woman fell flat on her back. The crowd cheered and the judge called the hit once he saw one of her ankles start to glow.

For a few seconds, Mara laid still on the ground, staring up into the dark sky. Ithella walked to the glaive, and kicked it towards the prone woman. She took it, and struggled to her feet, her chest heaving and her hair and arms billowing steam. She adjusted her grip clumsily, and even from across the arena, Lanri could see that the exhaustion and a day’s worth of scrapes and bruises were catching up with her.

She moved in for another strike, a wide swing Ithella was easily able to counter, and then, with a single adept move, Ithella hooked the shaft of her glaive behind Mara’s, and pulled it out of her hands. It clattered to the ground and rolled away, and Mara only stood there, staring at Ithella.

For a few moments, the audience watched in rapt silence. They waited for Ithella to either strike again, or to simply tap Mara somewhere, either one meaning Ithella would win. But she didn’t, at least not fast enough to stop Mara from charging at her. At first, Ithella brought up her glaive defensively, but when she saw Mara spit out her blue rubber bit mid-charge, she dropped her glaive too, and caught the woman.

“Mara of Cerene forfeits! The title goes to Ithella Val Gyr,” called the judge, and as soon as everyone heard the judgment, Ithella spat her bit out as well, and she and Mara pressed their lips together.

The audience cheered, probably more for the dramatic ending than the romantic gesture between lovers, but they cheered all the same. And Lanri, Seeker, and Mirabelle cheered with them.

Lanri’s heart soared with a sense of sheer approval. Since the day she found the dress, Lanri had been keenly aware of the truth that people were supposed to feel good, to make each other feel good, and Mara and Ithella were a shining example of that. They’d just fought with all they had, but now they had their lips pressed together, and their eyes shut in passion.

After a few moments, the two broke the kiss, and Lanri could see them whisper something to each other before they both turned, and waved at the cheering audience.

Just before they filed out of the arena, the judge approached them both, presenting Ithella with a little wooden box. She and Mara paused and took it, opening it to look inside before both of them shook his hand.

“I wonder what that was,” Lanri mumbled.

“Let’s go meet them at the contestant’s exit and find out,” Seeker replied.

________________

After a brief but very necessary detour back to the inn to let Mara and Ithella use the showers and change into clean clothes, the party re-emerged into the plaza that had hosted the bulk of the carnival all day.

Sadly, it looked to be winding down. The last of the games that were still standing were being dismantled, and moved out of the way with haste, leaving only a few of the food stalls and benches around the edges, and a small podium in the middle that hosted the harpsichord and other instruments Lanri had heard all day.

“So, tell us about the prize,” Lanri urged Ithella as they walked towards one of the food stalls.

Ithella smiled, then reached into her robes. After just a second, she emerged holding a golden ring with a stone the same perfect black as her hair set into it, hanging from a silver chain.

She slipped it around her pinkie finger, which was small enough to fit without removing the chain, and then reached into nowhere. Larni watched in amazement as Ithella’s hand emerged back into view holding a cloak, which she deftly put on before she put the ring away.

“The judge said it’s an Adampora novelty, and called it a no-space ring.”

“No-space,” Lanri repeated, then she looked at Seeker. “Is that where you put stuff?”

“Oh, no, Dear,” Seeker said. “Arcane storage is a mortal invention. What I do looks the same from the outside, but I’m only putting things in Ishara’s domain. That’s still a real place, with people in it. That ring really does lead to an arcane nowhere.”

“I believe it was invented to imitate that particular power of their Graces,” Ithella explained before she shook her head. “Though… You should not take that as gospel, Lanri. It is only a guess.”

Lanri grinned. “A priestess telling me not to take something as gospel? That’s a first.”

The five of them continued their banter for a while longer, as they queued for another snack, and a drink to go with it. Mara and Ithella started to recount the stories of the people they fought that day, mostly to each other and Mirabelle, though some of it made it to Seeker and Lanri’s ears as well.

Once they had their food, they found a table big enough for the five of them. They’d gotten fish this time, dunked in batter and then cooked in oil like those fries before, and served with sauce and spices drizzled across each portion. They all dug in, Mara and Ithella both devouring their portions with the famished delight only an exhausting day can earn.

Again, Lanri was struck by just how good those two were together, and she smiled.

“You might be the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Dear,” Seeker whispered to her.

Lanri snorted. “No, I’m not!”

Seeker tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from Lanri’s bun behind her ear, and smiled at her. “Yes, you are,” Seeker said. “As long as I’ve had to explore Eitheris, I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you, Lanri. I’ve never wanted someone so badly, never cared for someone so deeply.”

She paused for a moment, long enough for Lanri to notice the others were looking at them. But Lanri didn’t care. She liked where this conversation was going, and didn’t mind sharing it with her friends.

Seeker took Lanri’s hands into hers, and very gently pulled Lanri to her feet. “You already know what I want to say to you, and I already know what you want to say to me, b–but… I still want to do it. Do you?”

“Did you just stutter?” Teased Lanri with a smile.

Seeker shrugged. “I’m nervous, Dear.”

Lanri smiled, pouring all of her feelings for this angel into a single facial expression she hoped would put her at ease. “Nothing to be nervous about, Seeker. Of course I want to. But… Don’t we need a priest of Ishara for this?”

Seeker shook her head. “I don’t want the Your Grace stuff. This is about you and me, not about being the highlight of someone else’s career. I promise I’m more than qualified to observe our vows myself.”

Lanri nodded, and looked around for a moment. Her friends were obviously watching, but bystanders were starting to loiter, too. She’d given some thought to what she might say to Seeker in those vows she’d mentioned a few times, whether there even was anything left that needed to be said. She knew there wasn’t, not really. But when Seeker made a gesture and whispered a spell that caused a circle of runes to appear on the stones around them, she decided she didn’t mind repeating herself for the world and Ishara to hear.

“I love you, Seeker,” Lanri began. “I was so incredibly cold and alone when you found me. I was a shell, the lesser half that survived a disaster, but you… fixed things. You became a rock in the churning sea, a foundation I could rebuild myself on, and I don’t ever want to leave it. You’re… You’re smart, and gentle, and strong, and wise, and I can’t imagine ever even considering leaving. You’re why I wake up in the morning, and why I fall asleep at night. You’re my protector, my savior, my beloved, and I’ll want no-one else for as long as I live. I want you, and only you to lead me through life. I’m yours, and I love you.”

She looked into Seeker’s big, blue eyes, waiting to hear what she would say. Seeker hesitated for a while, almost long enough for Lanri to begin to get nervous, but finally spoke. “My Dear, my Lanri… I… I’ve got so very much to say. I could spend centuries drawing pictures of you, and millenia telling others how much I adore you. I could dedicate an eon to those trusting, loving eyes, and then an eternity to that wonderful mind of yours. And I will. But not yet. Now’s not the time to tell the world how great you are, my beloved, because I’ve got far more important things to do. Now’s the beginning of the entire lifetime I’m going to spend experiencing you for myself.”

Seeker paused to reach up, and tuck the same loose strand of hair behind Lanri’s ear again, and she sighed happily as she leaned into the touch.

“I’ve already told you several times that I want to make sure your life with me will be the stuff of fairy tales. You already know that I’m going to show you marvels and miracles, and that you’ll want for nothing, ever again. You’re mine, now and forever. Mine to guide, mine to pamper, mine to love. You are… You’re my purpose, Lanri. From the moment we first saw each other, and you looked at me like I was a mythical hero, I’ve done everything I could to be worthy of that, to be as good as you deserve. I promise I will never, ever stop, Dear.”

Lanri beamed at Seeker, even as she blinked to stop a few tears from blurring her vision. She adored Seeker utterly and totally, and hearing Seeker promise she felt the same way made her heart swell with joy. “Do you promise you’ll stay with me, Lanri?”

Lanri nodded, and with a cracking voice managed, “I do.” The circle of divine runes Seeker had summoned rang the steady tone of a pledge observed by the gods, and before Lanri could even think about saying anything else, Seeker swept her off her feet and pulled her into a deep, needy kiss to the applause and cheers of friends and bystanders alike.

Distantly, she wondered if they were now married. But she realized that she didn’t really care to ask. She didn’t care if the gods thought this counted as a wedding or not. All she cared about was that she and Seeker both clearly did.

________________

Fireworks started to go off. A smell like rotten eggs and burned metal filled the air as smoke billowed out of the launch tubes. Above them, large blasts appeared in the dark sky, illuminating everyone and everything in a wide array of colors.

It was beautiful and ephemeral, just like the moment in the square below Mischief was spying on. Poor Seeker, they thought, you don’t have any idea what you just did.

Seeker deserved this moment, Mischief knew. So long spent being so alone, for the sake of their plans. The elation and contentment practically dripped off of the Heartwarden. She’d found someone she loved, someone she wanted to be with at all times, and Mischief felt like a villain for knowing it wouldn’t last much longer.

The Lady wouldn’t tolerate this. She would send them to collect Seeker and her Lanri soon, and they’d have to obey. As much as they wanted to give them more time to be normal and happy together, and celebrate how far they’d come since Lanri had found the dress, Ishara was more important than that.

They smiled, though. It was a wistful thing, tainted by the knowledge of the dreadful things they’d orchestrated, and which would soon all come crashing down on Seeker and her fragile mortal, but it was a smile. A smile about the fact that right now, the couple was happy, and neither Mischief nor The Lady could take that from them.

________________

Lanri stared at the fireworks display in wonder, tightly holding on to Seeker’s arm. She’d heard of fireworks before, but she’d never seen anything like this. The colors were dazzling, and the sounds of people cheering were wonderful.

To one side, Mara and Ithella were doing much the same, looking at the display while holding each other tightly. And on the other side, Mirabelle watched the show on her own, and looked just as contented as the rest.

The display went on for almost half an hour, growing ever more spectacular and elaborate. Lanri wondered how far away people could see this show, and how many couples like herself and Seeker were enjoying it together.

Once it ended, and all that was left of the explosions was the smell of sulfur and a faint ringing in her ears, some of the crowd that had assembled to watch started to disperse. Though most lingered. Seeker started to turn around, ready to lead them back to the inn, but Lanri tugged at the sleeve of her cardigan.

“What is it,” Seeker asked?

“Night’s not done yet,” Lanri said, as she saw the lingering crowd start to congregate around the musicians’ podium. She recalled the sign she’d seen yesterday, promising a dance, and she decided quickly that that’s what was still missing. “Let’s dance, first.”

Seeker quirked an eyebrow, and seemed to consider it. “Do you feel up to that, Dear?” She asked, leaving the reason she was skeptical unsaid.

“The prosthetic is fine, Seeker,” Lanri promised. “I didn’t even bring the cane. I promise I’ll survive being led through a dance before we go to our room.”

Seeker looked around for a moment, seemingly to check whether Mara and Ithella were interested in something like this. Lanri did the same, following Seeker’s gaze until she found the couple, having already chosen a place for their first dance together.

“Can’t be out-romanced by a priestess of Daray and her squire, can you?” Lanri teased, as she spotted Mirabelle making conversation with the priest of Kukaro they’d met earlier today as they found a place, too. “Or… whatever you’d call that particular pairing.”

Now it was Seeker’s turn to follow Lanri’s eyes until she found Mirabelle and Morell. “We call that peer pressure,” she quipped, then took Lanri by the hand, and led her into the middle of the open area as the musicians climbed onto their little podium.

The lead musician was a tiny thing of a beastkin, with big, feline eyes, and a tail that swayed excitedly behind her. “So,” she began. “There’s… oh, boy, there’s more people here than they said there would be.”

The people around the stage laughed, ever so slightly.

“Well, I’m… Uhm, I’m Clementine. And I…” Lanri could see the young woman’s ears press flat to her head, and felt a little bad for her. “And I’m terribly prone to stage fright. But I see you’ve almost all paired up with your darlings already, so… I guess we’ll start with something sweet and slow to dance to.”

Seeker smirked as she led Lanri to a spot with enough space. “What is it?” Lanri asked, as Seeker took Lanri’s right hand into her left, and the pair took the position to start their dance.

“Oh, that I’ve been wrong. Apparently you’re not my Dear, but my darling. The beastkin said so,” Seeker said, sarcastically

Lanri rolled her eyes, as the musicians started to play a slow, vaguely sad-sounding song on their instruments, and Seeker started to lead Lanri through a simple waltz. “Your Dear, your darling, your pet, your consort… Who cares?” Lanri said, looking up at Seeker. “As long as I'm yours, Seeker.”

“That’s a terrific answer, my Dear,” Seeker praised. Around them, the various couples and duos that had joined the dance were talking too, whispering little jokes to each other or gossiping about others.

As they danced, slowly swaying and spinning to the rhythm of the music, Lanri and Seeker were transfixed on each other. She could almost feel the Heartwarden scrying her mind, browsing her thoughts like they were books in a library. She dearly wished she could get a glimpse into Seeker’s mind, too.

“Tell me, Lanri,” Seeker began. “Where do you want to go next?”

“Next?” Lanri asked.

“Next,” Seeker repeated. “What do you want to do once we’ve healed your leg? Shall we set out for the first ruin to explore together right away?”

As they moved, Mara and Ithella came into Lanri’s view again, laughing and enjoying each other’s company just as much as she and Seeker. “We should ask them what they want to do next,” Lanri said, refocusing her gaze on Seeker. “All I need is you, Seeker, but I’ll be happier with them than without.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Seeker agreed with a smile. “And I did say we’d invite them, didn’t I?”

Lanri nodded. Seeker had mentioned that, but it hadn’t happened yet, and by now they were only a single night’s rest away from the fleshcrafter’s… workshop? Lab? Clinic? Lanri wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, it was close, and after that, Lanri felt like she had no guarantees she’d ever see her friends again.

“Ne vous inquiètez pas pour ça,” Seeker intoned. The power of the spell, as always, made Lanri shiver and smile before the effects made themselves known. In seconds, that nervousness that the party might split up tomorrow simply melted away, replaced with an easy satisfaction that it would all work out for the best.

“Why’d you do that?” Asked Lanri, hazily.

Seeker quirked an eyebrow. “I can’t have you worrying about things during our first dance, can I?” She asked. “I’ll take care of everything, Lanri.”

Lanri giggled and nodded. “I… I guess it’s pretty stupid to…” She tried to remember what she’d even been worrying about. It had just been there a second ago, but now it was completely gone. “What was I nervous about, again?”

“Like I’d tell you,” Seeker teased. The two continued their dance, slow and intimate, until the song’s chorus came around for a final time, and the last note lingered on the harpsichord’s string.

She leaned in to kiss Seeker, satisfied with their first dance together, and wholly expecting Seeker would insist on getting her to bed soon, when Mara and Ithella approached them. “Her Grace,” Ithella began, sounding as nervous as she had the first time Lanri had spoken to her in the monastery. “I would be… beyond honored if you’d dance with me, as well.”

Seeker smiled at the request, and turned to Lanri. “Do you mind loitering through another song, Dear?”

Lanri shook her head, and turned to Mara, who looked almost disappointed that Ithella wanted to dance with Seeker. “Not as long as I have a dance partner, too,” she said, and the smile that appeared on Mara’s face warmed her heart.

A few moments passed, with the musicians on stage negotiating amongst themselves about what to play next. They soon settled on something with a beat twice as fast as their first song, a far louder and more jovial song that reminded Lanri of the music played at the equinox feast in Bodrin, full of joy and zest.

Lanri happily took the starting position Seeker had just assumed, taking Mara’s right hand into her left, and leading her into the dance. The music seemed to demand being rougher and rowdier. It was the same basic set of movements, but faster, and more exaggerated.

“Congratulations!” Mara said as they got into the flow of things. “You must be ecstatic, Lanri.”

“Oh, I am,” Lanri said, raising her voice above the laughter and music. She had to pay a fair bit of attention to the dance, having not led a partner since before she’d met her Faron, but as low as the stakes were after such a terrific day, it was almost impossible to not have fun. “Congratulations to you, too.”

“What for?” Mara asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Lanri, sarcastically. “Getting second place in a tournament, maybe?” When Mara blushed, she continued. “Oh, believe me, I know we Cereni are a humble breed. You fought a lot of people, and beat everyone except for a priestess of the war god. No matter how you feel about it, that’s amazing, Mara!”

Mara smiled. “Yeah, I guess I did do pretty well, didn’t I?”

“You did fantastically. Your fights were all harder than Ithella’s, too. You had that bitch that wanted to break bones, when she had dandies in heels. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Mara cocked her head. “What’s a dandy?”

“Oh, I suppose that’s an Astorian thing. It’s someone who is too invested in their appearance. Usually a noble.”

“And what do Astorians call people who judge others for how much effort they put into their appearance?” Mara asked, pointedly.

“They usually called me Professor Vattens,” Lanri conceded with a grin. “You’re right, I shouldn’t call people that. I only meant that I thought your fights were all far more impressive.”

“Thank you,” Mara said, sincerely. “Being an impressive fighter probably won’t get me very far in learning more about Ishara, though.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Lanri said with a shrug. “Abbot Du Bois, the priest that runs the monastery in Cerene, mentioned to Ithella that Seeker is an example for his priests to follow. If you really want to study with the priests, I doubt you’d find anyone who–”

“Do you think I should?” Mara asked, cutting Lanri off. “Study, I mean? Go through the whole seminary like that, and become a priestess of Lady Ishara?”

Lanri did her best to give Mara a patient smile. “Why do you keep asking me these things?”

“I… don’t know,” Mara admitted. “It just feels right. I’ve asked Ithella and Seeker about it too, and they’ve both said I’d be suited to it, but… well, you’re my friend, and you’re smart, and I feel like you can be more objective than a priestess or an angel.”

Lanri was touched by the compliment. In the back of her mind, a faint sense of nervousness was beginning to form again, reminding her she’d been worried about losing her friends to the whims of fate and the gods. And she knew she wasn’t as objective about this as Mara might think, herself craving for a bit of Ishara’s power. But leaving her without any advice just didn’t feel like an option.

“I think you should, yes,” Lanri eventually said. “With that sparkle in your eye when you look at Ithella or back in Cerene, looking at the statue? I think it would be a waste not to try.”

A little while later, after Seeker and Ithella beckoned to follow them back to the inn, Mara lingered for just a moment. She tugged on Lanri’s hand and leaned in, and placed a single, gentle kiss on her cheek. “Thank you,” she said, as Mirabelle walked past.

“For what?” Lanri asked, smiling at the girl.

“Saving Ithella’s life, helping me make up my mind, dancing with me. Lots of things,” Mara said.

“That’s just being a friend,” Lanri said, as she started to lead Mara towards Seeker, Ithella, and Mirabelle.

“Then… Thank you for just being a friend.”