CHAPTER 7

“Reveillez.”

Carriage wheels again. As Lanri returned to the waking world, propped against something, and harassed by that hateful sound, she decided she hated carriage wheels. She hated carriages in general, really. In fact, if she was truly honest, she just despised all travel. Walking and riding horses were both exhausting, and boats were almost as bad as carriages with their incessant swaying. At least those could be big and comfortable.

“Come on,” Seeker coaxed her, nudging her with her shoulder. “I know you’re awake. I cast the spell.” She didn’t want to be awake, she realized. The last time she’d been awake, there was a demon. And the day before that, those fucking creeps had – No. She didn’t want to think about that. She didn’t want to think about anything.

“Then cast the other one…” She mumbled, shuffling to the other side of the bench, leaning against the carriage’s side. She was much too exhausted to deal with Seeker’s antics right now. She just wanted something to eat, and to go back to sleep.

She really did want something to eat. She tried to recall the last time she had eaten, and came up with the sole bite she’d had of Mick’s stew. How long ago was that by now? Three days, at least. She peeled her eyes open, and glanced about the carriage. It was smaller than the one she’d traveled in with the mercenaries, meant for journeys measured in hours, not days or weeks. It was opulently upholstered, with bright red velvet cushions covering both the front and rear facing benches. To her left, Seeker cautiously smiled at her.

Oh gods, Seeker.. She’d… She felt her face flush as her clear mind processed what had happened the last time she saw her, and she buried herself in her hands. She’d been so aggressive. So desperate. "That spell…" She said, remembering it controlling her like a puppet. She wanted to blame it on that awful fucking spell, but she just couldn’t; not all of it. She’d done her very best to resist some of his commands. But she’d reveled in a few of them. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to Seeker.

“Oh…” The Heartwarden gasped, “Lanri, none of what happened there was your fault.” Lanri felt Seeker put a single hand on her shoulder, and she launched herself at the angel, wrapping her in an embrace. Seeker was wrong. It was her fault, it had to be.

"It was," she stammered. "That spell… it was… It was like I was just a passenger. It… Every time he gave me an order, it… The spell obeyed for me. I couldn't stop any of it, but I didn’t even try to with some of it."

"Lanri, please. I got us stuck in this mess. Everything you did made sense. You tried to get me out–”

“No!” Lanri insisted. “I asked him for help. I let him cast that spell on me, Seeker!” Just thinking about how desperate she’d been for help brought her back to the edge of tears.

“My Dear, he would have done that anyways.” Seeker told her.

Bullshit. That can’t be true, can it? She certainly wanted it to be.

“He was messing with you, Lanri,” Seeker continued. “That’s what demons do, a lot of the time. He just wanted to make you feel bad. You didn’t strike an actual bargain with him, even if he might want you to think that.”

She couldn't accept that. She knew she'd done something wrong, she must have. The sheer overwhelming sense of failure she'd felt, that haunted her even now, hit her again. She'd practically begged him for help, and blindly accepted whatever he wanted to do.

"Lanri. Croyez," Seeker intoned. She heard the spell, and she shuddered as it took effect. Thoughts seem to spring from depths of her subconscious she didn't know existed, telling her she's right, and she knows better. Part of her – the same part that thought she could probably still pull out her brooch – told her that wasn't necessarily true. But what did it know? It was wrong about the brooch, too. She couldn't take it out herself, even with that horrible spell forcing her.

“R–really?” Lanri asked. At first, she was still hesitant to accept she wasn’t at fault. She’d been responsible for Faron, and she had been so certain this was her doing, too. "Are you sure?" But as she questioned it, her doubts made less and less sense to her.

“Really,” Seeker promised. “Lanri, you’re a mortal caught up in a demon’s scheme to kidnap an angel out from under a goddess’s nose.” She chuckled slightly, pushed Lanri away, grabbed her by the shoulders, and looked down into her eyes. “None of this could be your fault."

Lanri smiled softly. It was practically axiomatic. It wasn't her fault. It couldn’t be her fault.

"It’s like blaming a weed for growing somewhere the gardener doesn’t like.” Seeker continued.

The odd analogy caught her off guard. “That doesn’t sound like a compliment,” Lanri told Seeker, frowning up at her.

“I think it’s a compliment.” Seeker said, mimicking the expression. “After all. You’re the only weed anyone’s bothered to notice in the first place.”

“Which is a bad thing, Seeker,” Lanri noted. “Weeds tend to die after they’re noticed. They’re plucked out of the ground, or burned, or something.” Seeker paused at that for a moment, seemingly reflecting on her choice of analogy.

“I see your point,” she admitted after a while. “I only meant that… you don’t really have much agency here. You’re not at fault for anything that happens to me, or even to yourself. Because you found that dress, it’s my job to keep you safe from things like Gorance. That’s literally what Ishara made me for.”

“Okay,” Lanri said as she gave Seeker a wistful smile, and her stomach growled at her. “If you want to keep me safe, you should really take me somewhere with food. I haven’t eaten in–”

“–a little over a week,” Seeker said. She looked embarrassed by it as she spoke.

“A week!?” Lanri demanded. “A week!? How can it have been a week!?” She tried to count how long it had been. Jolus had warned her about the others… three days ago? And–

“I’ll save you some time, dear,” Seeker interrupted. “I kept you asleep for four days, while Gorance and I worked out the details of my… conditional surrender.”

“Four days!” Lanri scoffed. “Four days isn’t sleep, Seeker. That’s a coma. That’s…” All the gods, she’d been asleep for four days? She didn’t even remember having any dreams. Seeker had just… turned her off for several days. And she’d surrendered? What does that even mean?

“I needed to make sure he wouldn’t harm you,” Seeker said, answering the question before she could ask it. “So I promised him our full cooperation with his little… auction.” She spat the last word with vitriol.

Lanri blinked, thinking about what Seeker just said. “You’re going to let him sell us?” She asked, disbelief in her tone. Surely that couldn’t be what she’d said. “You… You’re just going to let him?”

Seeker sighed. “I guess?” She answered, though the answer itself sounded more like a question. “That’s how demons work, Lanri. They take things from people, and use what they took as leverage to extort them.”

“I’m not a thing,” Lanri said. Seeker’s eyes went wide at that, and she shoved her away from her, to the other side of the carriage. “HEY, WHAT the…” She started the sentence off barking, then trailed off as the space between her and Lanri warped slightly, and Gorance seemed to appear out of thin air, now dressed in a different white suit. He looked, no, he gazed down at her. And returning that gaze, she suddenly felt so small.

“Yes, you are,” he told her as she stared up at him. Maybe he’s right, maybe I am just a thing. she thought. He gave her a slightly annoyed smile. One that said You are small. You truly are a weed; a nuisance, a pest to be removed from my crops. “You are absolutely a thing. A toy to be played with by the big–”

“Knock it off!” Seeker said, putting herself between them. The feeling of small-ness vanished as soon as she couldn’t see his eyes anymore, and she sighed in relief, gratefully patting Seeker on the back.

“Oh, you’re so dull.” Gorance said. Lanri couldn’t see much of him with Seeker in the way, but going by his tone, she imagined he was rolling his eyes. “I thought you Heartwardens were supposed to be the fun angels. I’m not harming her.”

“I disagree.” Seeker spat beck. “Driving her insane with your Soulgaze is just as bad as physically harming her.” Lanri wasn’t quite sure what they were talking about. Faron had mentioned Soulgazes once. They were… Gods, what were they again? They were something demons could do, obviously. But there had to be more to them than that.

“I wasn’t going to drive her mad,” the demon scoffed. “Just show her her place. She doesn’t seem to understand what she is.”

“It’s not your place to show her anything,” Seeker bit. “Never use your ‘gaze on her again. Her mind isn’t yours to play with.” Right. Soulgazes were a kind of… domination magic. A sorcery. Faron had offhandedly mentioned it once to a prospective patron of his alchemical services as one of the hardest things there are to ward off with antimagic, but it was technically possible. And, perhaps more usefully, she could just close her eyes.

“Well. That’s the problem, isn’t it? She doesn’t know what she is. She has the same laughable notion of autonomy that all mortals need to be broken of.” Lanri really didn’t like this conversation. They were both talking about her like she was some kind of child. “I’m doing you a favor, really. She’ll be much more fun for you once–”

“I said no,” Seeker insisted. “I do not subscribe to your notion of superiority.”

Gorance burst out laughing, saying, “yes you do! Oh, Seeker, you deceive yourself! Your little pet has defaulted to hiding behind you the entire time she’s been in my presence. She begged you for food a few moments ago, for pity’s sake. You cast spells on her to twist her mind into knots out of convenience. She’s like a little puppy, perfectly loyal and obedient. She just doesn’t realize it. She sees you as a lover, as an equal. It’s absurd.”

“Shut up!” Lanri yelled at the demon from behind Seeker. She’d had more than enough of his shit. “Just fucking… shut up! I am not some pet, let alone yours!”

Seeker’s hand reached behind her, gently squeezing Lanri’s as she cooed a shushing noise. “It’s okay, dear. He’s just trying to upset you.”

It’s working, Lanri thought as the demon scoffed. She didn’t want to deal with this shit, or even be here. This wasn’t what Seeker invited her along for. “Very well. I have preparations to make at our venue, anyways.” There was a twisting sound as Gorance finished talking, and Seeker relaxed, moving to let Lanri see the carriage was empty again.

“Gods, I hate him,” Lanri said with a sigh as she climbed back onto one of the benches, which took more effort than it should. “Why are you letting him do this to us?”

“It’s not worth the risk of fighting him, Lanri,” Seeker said, a sadness covering her face as she looked up at Lanri from her crouch on the carriage’s floor. “It’s safer for you if we just play along for now. We can get out of this mess later.”

Lanri frowned as she considered it. She despised the idea of letting some demon make a show of selling her and Seeker. But she saw the wisdom of her words. She shuddered as she considered what Gorance might do if they became truly untenable. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll… play along.”

________________

A while later, the carriage came to a halt in a settlement. Or does it not count as a settlement if it's just one large building? Lanri wasn't sure. Regardless, it was somewhere, which was a huge improvement compared to the middle-of-nowhere she’d spent her time lately. A large, tan, countryside villa, surrounded by vineyards, and what seemed to be a lake, the large building screamed opulence. Vineyards? How fucking far did we travel? Where am I?

“East of the Valtans,” Seeker said, answering the unasked question. Lanri rolled her eyes, and faintly smiled at the Heartwarden, supposing she wasn’t actually that bothered by her reading her thoughts anymore. “There’s nothing out here. Makes it perfect for places like this.”

“Place like this?” Lanri asked, peeking out of the carriage. It seemed like a fairly ordinary, if expensive, place. “What’s so special about it?”

“A venue for demonic mischief,” Seeker easily said. “Very few mortals ever venture out here, so the gods only pay minimal attention to it. It means demons and… other creatures tend to be able to do whatever they want out here.”

“So, I’m in unspeakable danger,” Lanri said. “I’m fucked. Is that it?”

“No!” Seeker assured her. “You’re still under my protection, Lanri. If I have to use force to keep you safe, I will. You needn’t worry. The king of Remere himself would be jealous of you for being in my custody.”

Again with the infantilizing language? Custody? Really? Lanri thought as Seeker took her by the wrist, seemingly just to tease her, and led her out of the carriage. Straight into a petite beastkin of a valet, who seemed to have been waiting for them to get out.

“Hi!” She cheerily said. Lanri cocked her head at the girl. She’d never seen a beastkin like her before. Dressed in a sharp, red tailcoat, she seemed to have mostly elven – rather than human – features, pink skin, and short, extremely curly white hair on her head and tail, and big, floopy, fluffy white ears that seemed to just kind of blend into the hair. She kind of looked like a– “I’m Sheep!”

Lanri did her very best to suppress her laugh. Sheep? Sheep? Her name – her actual, real, used-as-identity name – was Sheep?

“Hello, Sheep,” Seeker said, taking the name perfectly seriously. “We are Seeker, and Lanri. You’re our valet, I assume?”

You’re not going to comment on that name? Lanri thought as loudly as she could. Seeker silenced that train of thought with a glare.

“Absolutely!” Sheep said, gesturing past herself, to the side of the massive villa. “Master Gorance told me Lanri would stink like death, so I prepared a bath for you both.”

“Hey, I don’t smell that–”

“Yes you do, dear,” Seeker protested. “It just seemed rude to say anything when you couldn’t fix it. Now you can. And you will.”

“Perfect!” Sheep said, and led the way past the building’s front entrances, through a tidy, if old, pathway along the side of the building. Disheveled vegetable gardens with long-dead plants lined it on one side, the remains of last year’s tomatoes and onions not yet cleared out for the next spring. Eventually, they came to what seemed to be a servant’s work area, set into one of the villa’s rear corners.

The floor was made of coarse tiles, and looked recently swept. Two wooden bathtubs stood in the space, the hot water inside steaming into the winter air. A single table stood between them, a bar of soap, a mirror, a pair of brushes, and a straight razor on it, waiting for those that might have need of them. A single rough, wooden door led into the building. Probably into the kitchen, if Lanri had to guess.

“If you’ll wash up?” Sheep asked rhetorically.

“You expect me to take a bath outside? It’s freezing!”

“I do!” Sheep confirmed with a smile, and stepped back, gesturing at the baths.

“Just do as she says, dear. Please,” Seeker bade. “I promise I’ll invoke the powers of the gods to warm you right up if you get cold.”

Lanri wasn’t quite sure whether she was joking, but resisted the idea all the same. She didn’t want to bathe in front of a stranger. Seeker was fine; She could tolerate that and then some, to put it lightly. But the beastkin valet? That seemed like a step too far. “No,” She quietly said.

“You’re bathing, Lanri,” Seeker firmly said. “For your own safety, comply. Now.”

I’m not taking a fucking bath in the freezing cold where a stranger can see, Seeker. Lanri thought. She smiled inwardly as she considered just how familiar she’d become with the idea of thinking being a way to communicate. Seeker quirked an eyebrow, and sighed. “I mean it, Seeker! I’m no–”

“Souhaitez obéir,” whispered Seeker. Lanri whimpered as the spell flowed into her mind. Overwhelming, divine power, it moved faster than her own thoughts, setting up elaborate logics and reasonings for her mind to follow. It made so much sense, now. She genuinely liked Seeker; she saw her as a friend, and a protector, and a divinity, and she found her to be so damn pretty. Seeker was smarter than her, and stronger than her, and she was here by Ishara’s command. Of course she would obey her; She wanted to! She smiled absently as she began to undress.

“Impressive,” Lanri vaguely registered Sheep saying.

“You understand what I did to her?” She heard Seeker’s reply. She’d already kicked off her boots, and unlaced her jacket. The cold wasn’t pleasant, but she’d be in a warm bath soon, and Seeker had promised to warm her up afterwards.

“Of course!” Said Sheep. “Master Gorance did something quite similar to me once. He didn’t cast his spell in the divine language, though.”

Lanri pulled the jacket off, and moved on to the blouse underneath. Seeker was right, she realized. She did stink. Badly. “How did you come to learn the Divine Language?” Asked Seeker.

Lanri’s face twisted into an expression of bemused confusion. “You already know, Seeker! The dress–”

“Not you, dear,” clarified Seeker as Lanri pulled her pants off, and stepped into the water. She winced at the heat of it, which bit all the more after the coldness of the floor.

“Master Gorance taught me, Lady Seeker. He taught me several languages, in fact. He wanted me to understand any conversations I was likely to overhear in his service.”

Lanri saw Seeker quirk an eyebrow at that. She dunked her head in the water, and reached for the bar of soap. Distantly, it occurred to her that she’d been adamantly objecting to getting in the tub just a moment ago, but for the life of her, she could not think of why. Seeker had wanted her to, and that really seemed like enough of a reason. “Your master won’t mind you telling me about that?” Seeker asked.

“Not at all,” said Sheep easily as Lanri took one of the brushes. It was far softer than she’d expected. Firm enough to scrub with, but not so stiff as to scratch. She rubbed it back and forth across the bar of soap a few times until it frothed, then set to cleaning herself, starting with her armpits. “Master Gorance told me it was folly to try to hide things from you.”

“Folly, huh?” Asked Seeker, who sat down on the rim of Lanri’s bath, and easily plucked the brooch from her hair. The greasy, wet hair fell around her, impacting her shoulders like thick strips of peat being unloaded from a cart. She braced herself for the, by now, familiar rush of feelings that would cause, and was quite surprised to find they didn’t come. Seeker winked at her, and said “I can control that, you know. C’mon, wash your hair, and I’ll put it back.”

Lanri nodded, and dunked her head again, then grabbed the bulk of her hair, and rubbed it against the bar of soap for a while. Once she figured she’d dissolved enough of the soap, she put the bar down, and continued to scrub. “Yes, folly,” repeated Sheep. “Master Gorance told me your kind can read the thoughts of mortals. So, he elected not to inform me of any deceptions he has planned, and ordered me to be honest.”

What you believe to be honest, Lanri thought. She dunked her head under the water, and scrubbed her hair again, to rinse it out. What flowed out of her hair and into the tub was an unpleasantly brown color. She supposed being assaulted in the mud was likely to thank for that as she reached for the bar of soap, and set about repeating the whole routine. She watched with interest as Sheep picked up her clothes, and started searching through them. She fished out a small handful of coins – a golden Dragon, two silver Claws and several copper Scales – and diligently put them in Lanri’s bag.

Then she picked up her belt, and with it came the holstered wand. Feelings swelled up in her. Not quite anger, and not quite fear, but certainly a sense of unease. She thought about something to say to get the beastkin to leave her stuff alone, and was halfway through opening her mouth to fire off a salvo of profanities, when Seeker put a calming hand on her shoulder. “That wand is irreplaceable to her, Sheep,” she said, and Lanri saw her hold her hand out for it. “I will mind it.”

That wasn’t a request, or a command, thought Lanri as she dunked her head in the water again, and washed out a second load of thankfully far cleaner soapy foam. It’s just her stating the truth. She watched anxiously as she saw Sheep consider what to do with it before she handed it to Seeker, who put it nowhere.

Seeker put it nowhere.

She blinked, and looked at where it should be, but wasn’t. Her heart rate picked up. Had Sheep sabotaged it? Had she destroyed it, somehow? Had Seeker? “Calm, dear,” Seeker whispered. “I didn’t put it nowhere, like that. I just put it elsewhere, for now.”

“Well, where!?” Demanded Lanri as she bent forward, and scrubbed her legs. By now the water was so dirty she could barely see her feet.

“Enlevez la saleté de cette eau,” intoned Seeker, who dipped a single finger into the bath water. Rapidly, an area of crystal clear water formed around it, outlined by a faint white glow. The front of magics spread through the tub like the blast wave of an explosion, and the light consumed the contaminates. She could see herself perfectly clearly through the warm water, and noticed several spots she’d missed.

“Impressive,” said Sheep with a slight smile.

Lanri giggled. “That’s… pretty neat,” she admitted, then shook her head to get past the magical distraction. “But, my wand?” she asked as she lowered the bar of soap and brush into the water. They made a trail of milky white soap as she moved them.

“I put it with the dress, in Ishara’s realm.” That didn’t sound like a place Lanri could easily retrieve it from. She frowned. “Gods, Lanri!” Seeker huffed. “I can get it back!”

“I know that!” Lanri lied. She wasn’t under the impression something that went nowhere ever came back. Faron had been quite adept at making things disappear too, and his subjects certainly never came back.

Seeker’s a superior mystic to Faron.

It made her sad to think that. Oh, it was obviously true, of course. Seeker was infinitely competent, and Faron had been only finitely competent. But it still made her sad. She scrubbed between her toes as she thought about it. It made her sad that she’d compared them at all; she felt like she wasn’t supposed to do that. I can’t compare my husband to gods and angels. It’s not fair. But now that she’d drawn the comparison between them, she didn’t like the outcome.

“You’re right,” Seeker said, flatly. “It’s not fair at all. You’re scolding yourself for something mortal minds just do. You’ve spent your entire life trying to estimate how best to spend your time, measuring your needs and wants. You weigh the upsides and downsides of everything you do, trying to make your life the best it can be for the least effort. Everyone does it, some better than others.” She leaned in closer, and with a sly smile, whispered “I already told you how bad I was at it, didn’t I?”

Lanri snickered at that, whispering, “yeah. With the priest.”

“Right, with the priest,” Seeker agreed. “Now you’re stuck in this situation, following around a Heartwarden, dealing with divine artifacts, and getting messed with by demons. It defies categorization. I’m not better or worse than Faron, I’m too different for that kind of comparison.” Lanri smiled at her, her mind put at ease.

Sheep cleared her throat, and the pair looked to turn at her, expectantly. “Don’t forget about the razor,” she said.

“Razor?” Lanri asked, looking over at the table. The razor lay on it, glistening. It had a fancy carved stone handle, with runes etched into it. The mirror next to it had the same design outlining it. “What do you expect me to do with it? Cut my–”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that!” Sheep assured her. “I expect you to shave with it.”

Lanri looked in the mirror, and snorted. “I don’t have a beard,” she said.

“She means the hair below that, dear,” Seeker quietly clarified.

“Indeed,” agreed Sheep. “Your legs, pubic hair, forearms…” She paused, and leaned forward to look at Lanri, who instinctively covered herself up as much as possible. “And you have a bit on your belly. That, too.”

Hypocrite, Lanri thought as she looked at the beastkin’s fluffy tail. “Well, too bad. I don’t know how to use a–”

“Not a problem,” Sheep said, cutting her off. “I can do it for you, then.” The beastkin took off her tailcoat and hung it on a rail that had seemingly been installed just for the purpose. Lanri looked to Seeker for aid.

Sheep was halfway through unbuttoning her blouse when Seeker said, “There is no need for that, thank you. We can handle it on our own.”

The beastkin paused, and reversed course, beginning to refasten her blouse. “Very well,” she said, putting her tailcoat back on. She curiously watched.

“You’re not going to shave me, are you?” Lanri asked, with some dread in her voice. That seemed like entirely the wrong kind of intimacy.

“No,” Seeker said with a smile. “I wouldn’t know how. I’ll just use magic.”

“There’s magic for that?” Lanri asked, curiously. She tried to imagine how it would work. Would it make the hair just fall out?

“Oh, there’s magic for everything,” Seeker said. “Mortals just don’t know about most of it.” She slid off the edge of the bath, and knelt beside it. “I’m going to need a foot,” she added, tapping the rim of the tub with her finger.

Lanri gave her a nervous smile, as she tried to think of a single good reason that Seeker could need her foot.

“Well, I could just cast the spell without defining an area, I suppose…” Seeker said. “Of course, then the hair on your head will vanish, too.” Lanri’s foot was out of the water, and dripping onto the stones below before she even registered it. “Attagirl,” Seeker purred, as she leaned forward. She put a single finger of one hand on one of her toes, and stretched her other arm to touch Lanri on the neck.

“So, how does this work?” Lanri asked, curiously.

“Épilez, cassez,” intoned Seeker, and tiny bubbles started to rise to the bath’s surface. The water fizzed, and with every small bubble that popped, a tiny bit of the scent of burning hair and soap was released. Lanri considered that she couldn’t feel anything, but that she’d probably prefer that to the smell.

She gagged. “That’s… vile,” she said to Seeker, who gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. Once the water stopped bubbling, Lanri cautiously explored her skin. It was grippier for not having any hair on it. It glistened in the setting sun, and the water didn’t stick to it nearly as well. Her legs, her groin, everything was clean, and smooth. “I actually don’t hate this,” she noted, surprised.

“Alright then,” Seeker said, who moved to a table in the corner Sheep was cautiously indicating. She picked up a pair of cork sandals, and an enormous towel. The sandals hit the wet tile floor with a pleasant slap, and she held out the towel for her to wrap herself in.

Lanri climbed out of the bath slowly. The cold hit her like a hammer. Icy, dry air hit her skin, and warmed up. The water evaporated, and billowed off her in clouds of steam that stole her body heat in a flash. She almost immediately started shivering. “All the g–g–gods, it’s f–f–f–ucking cold here,” she said. Seeker did not give her the towel right away, but simply put a hand on her shoulder. She frowned at the Heartwarden. “Pf–f–fisical af–f–ffection can w–wait. T–t–t–”

“Séchez, Seeker intoned, and the rest of the water seemed to disappear, the cold losing almost all of its bite in an instant. Lanri wasn’t sure if the spell evaporated it, or it had simply disappeared, but it was a vast improvement either way. “Now you can have the towel.”

Lanri wrapped it around herself, gratefully, and stepped into the sandals. She did feel a lot nicer now than she had before the bath. She dreaded putting her dirty clothes back on. She looked around for them.

“You’ll get them back,” Sheep said, unbidden. “After they’ve been washed as well. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your room.”

Lanri hesitated, and looked at Seeker, who said, “of course.”

Sheep gave a satisfied nod, then opened the sole door Lanri could see. She smiled as she realized she’d been right to guess it was a kitchen. A large oven and several stoves were set against the exterior wall of the space, wood burning underneath it. Seeker stepped behind her, and set about refastening the brooch. She could smell fresh bread, and pudding.

The first food she’d smelled in a week. She could actually feel the majority of her brain take a back seat. Decorum, manners, common sense, her resentment of Gorance… They all went out the window.

“Lanri…” Urged Seeker, as she pulled her hair into a tight bun, and stabbed through it with the divine artifact. “Be careful now.”

“Fuck that,” Lanri said, as she shook Seeker off, ran into building, and stuffed the first remotely edible-looking thing she could find in her mouth.