“I think Gella would look gorgeous in this,” Lauren said, leaning out of Gella’s walk-in closet. The gown in her hands was a light airy blue, nearly the color of Celia’s eyes.

“We get the chance to dress up Mistress, and you pick a gown?” Tabby huffed playfully from Gella’s bed. She was laying on her stomach, tail swaying lazily behind her. “I know she has more interesting outfits.” In one graceful motion she pushed herself up and into a backwards somersault which ended with an elegant bow..

After the cat girl joined Lauren in the closet there was a sound of clothing being pushed aside that gradually faded. “I’m almost scared to ask what Tabby considers interesting,” Celia said quietly to Gella.

The mage stood next to Celia, watching the closet with a fond expression. “Something skintight, I would wager. Or sheer enough to display every inch of my body.”

“And... you would wear it? With everyone in town able to see?” Celia asked, both confused and intrigued.

Gella nodded firmly. “If you wanted me to, My Lady Celia.”

During breakfast, both Tabby and Lauren had been unable to keep the grins off their faces. The priestess had been the first to crack, asking excitedly about when Celia would get to be an official treasure. Tabby had only been able to offer a token look of contrition for spilling the secret before she joined her sister Treasure in excited speculation.

At Celia’s wordless insistence, Gella smoothly explained that Celia would need some care and attention before she could be as fully integrated as they were. They both accepted that explanation with happy smiles followed by an excited hug from Lauren and a passionate kiss from Tabby.

Lauren had suggested a nice ride around the valley would be perfect for them, an idea that Tabby had pounced on. All but dragging Lauren along, all four of them had ended back in Gella’s rooms where the priestess and monk immediately got to work deciding an outfit for their mistress.

Celia knew she hadn’t been very helpful in picking. Her own experience with fashion was practically non-existent. In her days as a mercenary it had been a frivolous luxury she hadn’t bothered with, and what few times she could remember wearing a dress in her childhood hardly translated to a woman with Gella’s grace and poise.

“You don’t need to dress in any special way, Gella,” Celia said, meeting Gella’s warm eyes and sighing softly. A small smile crossed her lips. “You look beautiful already.”

“You’re sweet, Celia,” Gella remarked, the compliment sending a single thrilled drop of delight down Celia’s spine. “I know I don’t need to. I want you to enjoy your reward, though.” Concern flashed in Gella’s eyes. “You are enjoying this, right?”

Celia wanted to look away, but Gella held her gaze so effortlessly. “I think so,” she answered as honestly as she could. “Getting to order Violet around is fun, at least.” Frustration clumped heavily in her chest. “And this isn’t like taking charge in a fight either.” She glanced toward the cavernous space that Lauren and Tabby were currently exploring for outfits. “Lauren tried something like this for Tabby’s party. Letting me be in charge of Clara, Electra and her, but even then it didn’t last long.”

The concern shifted and Gella nodded in understanding. “Being in charge is something you like in short bursts?” she offered.

Celia jumped on it eagerly. “Yes,” she admitted gratefully. “With Lauren and Tabby, I don’t think I would mind as much.” She lifted the wrist adorned with the silver bracelet. “But I want to be yours, Gella.” She felt the words spool in the back of her mind and happily let them steal her lips enough to recite. “And I am perfectly content to wait until you deem me ready,” She let Gella’s appreciative look wash over her, savoring. “So giving you orders... it just feels wrong.”

“That’s unexpected, Celia, but entirely welcomed.” Gella simply kept her eyes steady on Celia, and the warrior was happy to stand close and let Gella admire her. “Very well. Celia, repeat after me. I release you from your obligation to obey me.”

“I release you from your obligation to obey me,” Celia repeated back. There was no indication of a spell, and it certainly hadn’t been in the language of magic, but Celia still felt a shift between her and the beautiful mage.

She was saved from further examination by Tabby’s best attempt to mix giddiness and a petulant whine. “Awwww, does that mean we don’t get to play dress up with Mistress?” Looking over at Tabby, Celia saw the cat girl’s arm full of different colored fabrics.

“Now, I didn’t say that, did I my Pretty Kitty?” Gella said, turning and nodding at Tabby. “Let’s see what you and Lauren came up with.”

“I trust you are enjoying yourself considerably more than the last time we sat like this?” Gella whispered in Celia’s ear, her hot breath sending a pleasant shiver down the warrior’s spine. They were both seated on horseback, one of the non-magical ones Celia noted, and were trotting slowly down the road to Wand’s Reach. The leaves rustled in the mountain breeze and Celia found herself quite happy with Gella’s warmth on her back and the mage’s hands holding the reins in her lap.

“I am,” Celia said with a nod. A thought wormed its way through Celia’s mind, touching fantasies that thrilled her almost as much as worried her. “After you put me to sleep on the way back that night, did you..?” She let the question hover unasked.

“Did I enjoy how this lovely body of yours felt?” Gella finished in that same teasing whisper. One hand lightly crept further up to dance along Celia’s side. The warrior drew in a sharp gasp, feeling the ticklish prickle. Then Gella’s hand returned to simply resting back in her lap. “I was tempted, but no. I was more focused on getting you home and bathed.”

The horse’s steady trotting brought them through the open gates and into the town proper before Celia could dwell anymore on what her desire whispered. Coming out from the forest canopy into the open town bathed both of them in bright clear sunlight, the sky a flawless sapphire with only a few clouds.

“Your Ladyship,” A human male in well fitted chainmail said, walking alongside the horse. He was older, with streaks of gray in his short cut dark hair. “An... interesting outfit today.”

Celia smirked. Lauren and Tabby had decided on a set of robes done in a garish combination of purple and green. The sleeves and back were covered in stars and moons embroidered into the fabric and painted silver. The pride of the ensemble though was the hat. It couldn’t proclaim more succinctly that it was a wizard wearing it if it tried. It was pointed, stiffened with starch and reinforced to the point Celia was fairly certain it could deflect a sword strike. It also sparkled with a constant rainbow effect, the gemstones along its base shifting in a constant flux.

“Thank you Captain Addison,” Gella took the remark in her stride. “Let the Lady Mayor know I am passing through.” She gave a wry smile and gestured to her extravagant hat. “I’m sure she will be able to spot me.”

“Wand’s Reach has a mayor?” Celia asked after Addison had walked off.

“Of course it does,” Gella said, urging their horse toward a squat building right along the outer walls. “I hardly have the time to deal with the day to day affairs of the town.” She laughed softly.

Celia only shrugged. Civic administration was as foreign a subject to her as magic had been. As they approached the stable, Celia felt the uncomfortable prickle of a subject she had tried to press past force itself to the forefront of her mind.

“Gella,” Celia asked once the horse had been stabled. “I haven’t forgotten what Damian said, about you being a vassal of the Lord Sorcerer.” It stung to bring it up. Cair Dwemor seemed like such a paradise, far removed from the politics of Remere.

Gella nodded lightly, the motion exaggerated by her enormous hat. “I am.” They stopped in the alleyway between the buildings, a little pool of shade in the brightly lit town. “Does that bother you?”

“I’m Remeran, Gella. I knew that much even before you cleaned up my memories. It would be treason to serve you.” The sting had become a gripping thing, coiling around her heart. She wanted to serve Gella, to be her knight. But to forsake her king...

“And what, exactly, has King Ashlom done to earn your loyalty?” Gella asked cooly.

Celia blinked back. “He... he’s my king. I was born in his lands.” A worm of doubt began subtly working through that logic. It hadn’t been something she consciously considered before. She was Remeran, King Ashlom was her liege. As immutable a fact as any. Right?

One of Gella’s eyebrows arched. “Truly? Some distant man you’ve never met claims the land you were born on, and that earns him your loyalty?”

“And the Lord Sorcerer is so much different?” Celia countered defensively before feeling the bottom drop out of her stomach. She hardly knew anything about the man, and from the knowing smirk on Gella’s lips, the mage had expected that.

“Indeed he is, Celia. First Counselor Stretta is a brilliant man,” Gella said, admiration heavy in her voice. She gestured for Celia to follow her. “I used much of his grand insight when I was designing Wand’s Reach. Let me show you.”

Together they walked back into the bright sunshine and over a few streets until they reached a wide public square. It was a light, airy space filled with mingling villagers. Trees with great leafy canopies provided shade around clustered tables, and a large fountain in the center splashed welcomingly. They took a seat at an unoccupied table, attracting a few nods of respect from the townsfolk gathered nearby. “Now, you’ve been here a few times before Celia. How would you describe the town?”

Celia looked around. Wand’s Reach looked as peaceful and prosperous as ever. Nearly everyone was in good spirits, the homes and shops were all clean and in good repair. Part of that was the magical amenities that Gella had provided, she knew. The public baths and clean running water alone were marvels outside of a capital city like Cerene or Astoria. “It’s a clean, beautiful town that everyone seems to honestly enjoy living in,” she concluded. “I even thought you had charmed everyone in town when I first visited,” she added with a shy smile.

Gella laughed a little, taking off her hat and placing it on the table. “That would be quite a feat, there are just over two thousand people living in Wand’s Reach and the surrounding farms.” The mage gestured to the town as a whole. “But that does flow nicely into the reason I asked. Why do you think they enjoy living here so much?”

“The baths?” she guessed. “Or the clean running water?”

“That’s part of it certainly, but it’s so much more.” Gella smiled at the townscape before her. “If they are sick, they can visit a healer. If they want to learn, I have a library and tutors.” She gestured toward a two story building with a bright pink and gold enchanted flame lantern. “If they want intimate company I have a house of pleasure for them to visit, blessed by Ishi’s priests.” Gella turned to look back at Celia. “And all of that is a public good. Administered by the township for the benefit of its people.” She finished with a satisfied nod.

“You don’t charge for it?” Celia asked, feeling very confused. “How do you pay for your roads, your walls, any of it?”

“I collect taxes, like any Lady would. But the baker that is healthy, satisfied and content is going to be four or five times more valuable than the baker struggling just to pay their rent.”

“If it’s as simple as all that, why isn’t it like that anywhere else in Remere?” Celia asked, trying to fit the puzzle together in her mind.

“Greed.” Gella answered simply. “The Remeran nobility’s greed, to be more exact. Mountains of gold get hoarded away by men and women that simply do nothing to contribute with it.”

Celia blinked, hearing the sheer bitterness in Gella’s voice. Her own experience with the nobles of New Gyr hadn’t been fun, but surely there was some reason they were nobles? A quick search through her memory and she recalled her father teaching her about the great wars that were fought. “They were great warriors, generals, and strategists, right?”

“Perhaps their great, great, grandsires were,” dismissed Gella. “And there lies the root of Consular Stretta’s wisdom.” She nodded at Celia. “There is a contract between citizens and nation. The citizens enrich the nation, the nation enriches the citizens. All contribute based on their own ability, Celia. Not the ability of family long dead.”

The years Celia spent in New Gyr rolled in her memory. Scraping for coin enough to keep herself fed, her armor and weapon in good repair. She had always assumed the wealthy elite of the city simply had something she lacked, some skill or talent. She hadn’t been comfortable, but she had her freedom. Gella’s wisdom whispered back to her The freedom to pick from a stacked deck

Sitting there in the peaceful square with Gella close at hand, Celia felt off balance and muddled in a way that had nothing to do with magic. “And...” She began slowly, picking through the shifting sand where her bedrock assumptions of the world had been. “If I were to serve Adampor, serve you, I could be a knight? A real one?” She asked with naked hope in her voice. “I could serve that way?”

“Of course, Celia,” Gella promised with a smile.

Celia’s gaze went right through Gella while a hundred ideas all battled for space. Meeting nobility and being knighted had been a faint distant dream, something to cling to while working as a sword for hire. “I... I don’t know what to say, Gella.” She murmured quietly.

Gella peered at her curiously. “Well, yes would be the expected answer,” she supplied with a smirk.

“Yes!” Celia blurted out, snapping her attention back on Gella. “Very much so,” she continued happily.

“Once you have fully submitted to me, I shall present you before the First Counselor.” Gella’s voice was like silk as she gently locked her gaze with Celia’s. Celia felt her breath catch in her throat. “If you do truly wish to give yourself over to me, then it is only right that I reward your loyalty with a knighthood.” She spoke firmly, but there was tenderness in her words.

Celia sat up straight, returning Gella’s gaze with as much conviction as she could muster. “I will!” She vowed. “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.”

“I have no doubt you would attempt to sprint up a mountain or fight off a dozen warriors if I asked,” Gella considered. “But the first step is a matter of perspective.” She took a deep breath. “Celia,” she began calmly, clearly putting effort into remaining so. “Tell me what you think of slavery.”

Celia felt the sudden drastic shift like a physical blow. “Actual slavery? One person owning another person without them asking for it?”

Gella nodded.

“It’s evil,” Celia nearly spat. “Forcing anyone to work like an animal like that is just wrong,” she continued reflexively. Once her ears caught up to her words Celia frowned at Gella. “But you don’t do that. Tabby, Lauren and Violet adore being yours.” The frown softened into a content smile. “And me. You treat us all so wonderfully, no one could possibly call you a slaver.”

Gella’s own expression softened just a bit. “I appreciate that Celia, truly.” She shook her head. “But regardless of how I treat my Treasures, you could still make the case that I take and train slaves.”

Celia tried to fit the mental image of Gella whipping anyone. It felt so alien to her, so different from the kind woman sitting amiably across from her. Then the image shifted to Gella casting spells to ensure obedience, and the thought was much much more solid. “Oh,” was all she could say, hands clenched tight.

“You remember your first few days here, Celia?” Gella asked pointedly.

“I...” Celia closed her mouth and looked away. She had been so angry when Gella took her and told her what was in store for her. Angry and scared.

“And Violet was actively trying to kill me when I met her. I used my magic to bind her to me. Yes, she and I developed much deeper feelings for each other after.” Gella conceded. “I’ve learned much since then. Trying to force obedience with brute strength is a fool’s errand, and a subtle touch works so much better.” She reached over and took one of Celia’s hands in her own. “This is the first step Celia. Part of being mine is accepting that, from a certain point of view, I am a slaver.”

Celia felt the warmth of Gella’s hand, a soft reminder of something that wasn’t quite freedom but wasn’t complete captivity. The words of their earlier conversations ran through her mind—freedom and duty, responsibility and what they meant to a warrior like herself. She looked pleadingly at the mage, her inner flame raging. “Help me… please?”

Gella nodded, releasing Celia’s hand long enough to pull her recording crystal from her no space. With it on the table Gella held thumb and middle pressed together. “With your permission?” She asked comfortingly, waiting for Celia.

Despite the turmoil roiling inside her, Celia smiled happily. Whatever else Gella was, she was true to her word and incredibly gentle with Celia. “You have my permission.”

Two sharp quick snaps in succession were the last things Celia’s waking mind heard before her inner flame burst alight with fey control, beckoning the warrior to fall back into it endlessly.

There was no turmoil here. The endless sky spread out in all directions, decorated with great mountains of clouds. Somewhere impossibly distant, Celia was aware that Gella had walked them both into the Ishi blessed house of pleasure, and secured a room for them. Whatever details that her eyes or ears picked up were meaningless noise, cast aside while Celia sank deeper and deeper into Gella’s control. She sank deeper, flew higher, until all there was around her was a peaceful Blue sky.

A wild swirl of colors enveloped her, tying her body. Green and Yellow ribbons twisted around her limbs like living vines, reminding her how correct it was to let Gella take her here, how familiar it was to open her mind to the mage. Indigo tendrils caressed her body, wrapping her in a subtle heat that promised pleasure if she obeyed.

Her thoughts drifted and meandered, puffs of recollection drifting like dandelion seeds past her mind that felt too wonderfully drained to do more than observe them. “Celia, can you hear me?” Gella’s voice was a whisper right in her ear. She could feel the mage’s breath tickle across her skin and nodded with a smile.

“Excellent,” she continued “And open your eyes, Celia” The wonderful dreamscape faded while Celia’s eyes fluttered open. Faded into the background, but not entirely gone, part of her awareness was still effortlessly lost in the clouds. Still, open eyes meant at least some of her awareness was in the waking world.

She was slumped bonelessly against Gella with the mage’s arm held around her waist. “Take a moment, get your bearings, and we’ll continue.”

The room was dark and quite cozy. It didn’t have much beyond the decently comfortable bed she and Gella were laying on. Only a small table that currently held Gella’s enormous hat and Celia’s swordbelt, a wardrobe, and a few candle holders that added a dim light. She felt incredibly peaceful, held in Gella’s power as much as she was against the older woman’s body. “I’m ready,” she said quietly.

“Nearly everything that has been done to your mind so far has been temporary, Celia. The fey’s control, Lauren’s trances, my magic, Aversa’s compulsion, they wrapped around your mind. This… will be different. I am going to reach deeper now,” Gella said in a calm even tone. Celia nodded along, placid and sedate. “Like I did with Tabby to help her. You want me to help you, right?”

“Yes, please,” the words slipped free, soft and needy. She had been ready to beg for Gella’s help.

“Your mind might try to fight back,” Gella began and Celia found the strength to shake her head slightly. Gella gave a soft laugh and kissed the top of Celia’s head, flooding the warrior’s body with faint desire. “I know you won’t mean to, but minds are tricky things.” She held Celia close, letting their comfortable shared warmth mingle. “I can’t have that while I am helping you. So I need you to give me your strength Celia. All of it.”

Red and Orange crept through Celia’s awareness like fire and smoke. The great glittering dome of Gella’s protective magic stopped the distant Door, but these were from a deeper place in Celia’s mind. Losing her strength, being utterly helpless. It sent terrified tingles along her nerves, exciting her as much as it made her breath catch. “All... All of my strength?” she repeated, hoping there was some missed nuance.

“Yes,” Gella said quietly. “You’ll let me take it, and then I’ll give it all right back after I’ve helped you.”

She trusted Gella. Beyond the fear and the doubt beginning to gnaw at her, she trusted the mage. Gella hadn’t lied to her once since she signed the contract, and had worked a near miracle in returning so much of her memory to her. The murky residue of doubt and fear swirled with a rich dark need to leap into the unknown void. It chilled her soul while it stroked her passion into a slick urge, whispering all the terribly wonderful things that could happen.

“Be calm, Celia,” Gella’s voice washed away the gathering muck like a spring rain. “Breathe in.” She followed along, filling her lungs slowly. “And out.” Gella exhaled and Celia followed suit. It took only a few repetitions to restore her serenity. Fears and dark tempting pleasures both flowed by, but Gella’s voice held Celia in a bubble of calm until they too faded. “Now, Celia, will you give me your strength?”

Gella was safe, she trusted Gella. She could be vulnerable, and Gella would be careful with her. She held these ideas tight and managed a single firm nod followed by a strained but sincere “yes.”

“Lughdachadh Toil.” The spell fell heavily over Celia like a weighted blanket. For a moment it was simply a comfortable presence, pressing her down and reminding her how wonderfully languid and passive she felt. Then the spell pressed further, seeping into her body. She gasped, reaching with glacial slowness for Gella’s hand. The mage’s fingers found Celia’s own, holding her while the magic trickled like droplets of frost into her mind.

Her great roaring inner flame was being pulled away, drop by drop. Instinctively she fed more of herself into the flame, desperation gripping her to keep the flame strong. “Relax, Celia, just breathe. Let it happen.” Gella’s words offered only a mild comfort, and for the first time Celia could remember she was fighting against her own flame. It needed to be strong, proud, and full. She wanted to let Gella’s spell complete. And her own desires were slowly gaining ground.

Drip by drip her flame got dimmer and weaker. Thoughts and memories began to haze and fear was swift to slither up her spine. “You’re doing so well Celia. I’m right here.” Gella cooed and Celia wanted nothing more than to burrow into that voice.

Her flame dwindled to a campfire before she felt herself relent. The deeper parts of her that demanded the flame remain vibrant and alive would be convinced no longer. Celia wanted to obey, to give herself to Gella as much as she could, but her own body was fighting her. And it would not yield. “I ... I can’t “ Celia whispered softly, aching to admit it.

The admonishment she had been expecting failed to appear. Instead Gella’s lips kissed the back of Celia’s head. “You did perfectly, Celia. Let my magic take you the rest of the way.”

Celia nodded, and before she could say another word the flow of power in her became a torrent. Her flame was doused completely, leaving her mind cool and dark. Celia’s focus likewise diminished, left only as a tiny vital spark. “Now, Celia, I will begin.” Gella’s words passed over Celia’s ears and her waking mind fell into darkness.

Awareness slowly crept back to Celia, bringing with it a host of sensations. Her mouth was gummy, her body ached, and strangest of all, she could have sworn her very mind itself felt tender. She shut her eyes tight, attempting to ward off any further unpleasant revelations. “How are you feeling, Celia?” Gella’s voice, controlled with an amused undercurrent, asked from Celia’s side.

“Sore,” was the first thing that passed Celia’s lips. “Like I just did a hundred sit ups with my brain.” Then she remembered just why her mind felt not just worked out but near exhaustion arrived and despite everything Celia smiled.

Shifting to her side, her eyes opened to find Gella laying out with her head on her hand. There was pride and admiration in Gella’s expression, a sweet balm that soothed the most ragged edges of Celia’s discomfort. “So” she began hesitantly. “That was.... I don’t get any more under control than that, right?”

Gella was quiet, her eyes thoughtfully looking right through Celia. “In simple terms, you are correct,” she finally said with a nod. Moving off the bed and around to Celia’s side Gella offered a hand, which the warrior gratefully took. “Go ahead and stretch out, Celia. You were laying still for more than an hour.”

The little bed had just enough space for Celia to stretch out fully, and she took the opportunity gratefully. Her body protested, but the relief that washed over her from each set of stretches was reward enough to ignore it. All the while she turned her attention inward with a nervous energy.

She didn’t feel any different. An unknown amount of time with her mind utterly under Gella’s control, and she felt more or less the same as she did that morning. Thinking about Violet still made her uncomfortable and on edge, and a brief trip among her memories still had the magically enforced gap. She still adored Lauren, and just picturing Tabby’s lithe body for a moment was enough to send sparkles of desire though her body.

Rising up from touching her toes, she looked at Gella. The mage had quietly risen from the bed, and with an excited flutter Celia realized Gella was admiring her as she stretched. Before the mage could speak, Celia shook her head. Gella arched her eyebrow but nodded and let silence linger between them.

Did she feel any differently about Gella? There were the warm stirrings of new love, a deep gratitude, and her newly named submissive desires. She wanted to be with this amazing woman, to join her as one of her Treasures. She was content to wait until Gella deemed her ready, of course. There had to be something different. “Gella,” she began hesitantly. “You had my mind completely in her hand. Shouldn’t I feel… different?”

A smirk crossed Gella’s lips. “What do you imagine you would feel?”

Celia sighed, trying to put words to things that seemed obvious to her. “Changed!” she insisted. “Like how I know I’ll wait until you think I’m ready before I ask to submit as yours. I know that’s a thought you put in my head.”

Gella nodded. “Because that is a thought I want you to know I put there,” her voice slipping into a soft purr that caught Celia off guard. She stepped close and held her hand to Celia’s cheek. The warrior sighed happily, leaning into the delicate touch. “Something you can look within and know I left in your mind,” she continued while gliding her fingers down the curve of Celia’s neck. “What I did just now was much more subtle. Ideas I slipped in where I knew they would do what I wanted.”

Celia nodded, smiling serenely. “”How will you know if it worked?” She had no idea what could serve as a demonstration, but hoped Gella could show her.

“Oh, I’ll know,” Gella said with another smirk, withdrawing her fingers. Then her expression shifted to a more thoughtful one. Reaching into nowhere, Gella brought the recording crystal back. “There is always this, of course. You’re free to listen to it at any time if you really want to know what I did.”

Celia looked at the thing in Gella’s hand. It glowed a cool white light, but was otherwise as unremarkable as the crystal Celia wore as a necklace. She remembered how firm she had been, that Gella recorded everything. Now she was starting to wonder what she had been planning to actually do with that knowledge, when that scared, angry girl had demanded such a precaution. She smiled wistfully, taking the crystal in her hands. The contract and this crystal were a relic of a Celia that hadn’t found where she belonged.

An excited sparkle of an idea tickled across Celia’s mind. Something dramatic, something flashy. Placing the crystal on the table, Celia reached over to the table and drew her blade. “Celia.. What—”

Celia cut her off, giddy excitement straining to be released. “You’ve been so wonderful to me, Gella. I trust you. I don’t need this anymore.” She brought the hilt of her sword down hard, intending to smash the glowing crystal apart.

“Sgiath,” Gella managed quickly, encasing the crystal in a hemisphere of force just before Celia’s hilt deflected off to the side with a powerful thud. Celia looked from the protected crystal and back to Gella, feeling incredibly confused. “Celia,” Gella began with a gentle smile “That was incredibly sweet to offer, but the notes aren’t just for you,” she said, dismissing the spell and returning the crystal to her no-space. “I keep notes so I know exactly what I’ve done to you,” she stated firmly. “You are far too important to me to risk sloppy record keeping.”

A pool of shame gripped Celia’s gut, drawing her gaze to the floor. “I’m sorry, Gella, I just—”

Her apology was cut off by two fingers under her chin, drawing the warrior to look into Gella’s eyes. She felt the mage’s attention hold her, and the shame began fading. “None of that, Celia,” she admonished kindly. “No harm done, and it was a wonderful gesture,” she emphasized.

Before Celia could comment further, there was a knock on the door. “Apologiesss for dissstrubing you, Lady Gella,” a sibilant feminine voice said with long soft esses. “But there isss an isssue with the woman from Sssserene.”

Gella opened the door and Celia felt herself take an involuntary step back. She was no stranger to the other races of Eitheris. She had fought alongside, and often against them all. Elegant elves, stout dwarves, valiant orcs, the myriad combinations of beastkin, and of course other humans. Still, she had never seen anyone quite like the woman at the door. From her waist up she looked identical to a human woman with light, caramel colored skin. Her brunette hair was done up in a severe bun, held together with two sharp looking thin stakes, and she wore a respectable doublet and sash over her modestly sized breasts.

Below her waist though was a long snake’s body, easily six feet in length. Her scales were a lovely pattern of greens and blues arranged nearly geometrically. “From your companionsss expression, I take it she hasss never ssseen a lamia before?” the serpent woman asked with a wink.

Gella glanced at Celia’s expression and smiled, shaking her head. “She has never had the pleasure.” Turning to present the woman to Celia, Gella nodded her head to the woman. “Celia, this is the mayor of Wand’s Reach, Akasia.”

The serpent woman bowed at the waist. “A pleasssure to meet you, Celia,” she said kindly. “Her Ladyship hasss mentioned you before asss a potential addition to her housssehold.”

A warm glow pushed away the last bits of shame in Celia’s stomach. The idea that Gella was proud enough of her to show her off pushed a smile to her lips. “A pleasure to meet you, as well.”

“You mentioned something about the mage from Cerene?” Gella cut in smoothly.

“Yesss, she isss doing poorly and sssince you were already here in town I thought you might asssissst?” Akasia hissed hopefully.

Gella tapped her lips thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. “This will be instructive for you, Celia.”

The building Akasia led them to was an open and welcoming two story one, painted a gleaming white with a red accented roof. Above the door was the sigil Celia had seen on the Heralds’ uniforms, picked out in bold blue. “What’s this?” Celia asked while Akasia slithered through ahead of them.

“An excellent continuation of what we were talking about before,” Gella said while gesturing for Celia to follow.

Gella’s extravagant hat brought a few murmurs and even a casual compliment or two. Gella handled it with grace and skill, as if wearing such a silly outfit was an everyday occurrence. As they walked the airy window lit corridors, Celia looked ahead to their serpentine guide. “Is she a kind of beast kin?” she asked quietly to Gella

Gella shook her head. “They might have similar lineage, but lamia like her are magical creatures. You wouldn’t call a mermaid a fish beast kin, right?”

Celia stopped short and peered at Gella incredulously. “Mermaids are real?” She felt a little foolish the moment the question left her lips. She had met Fey, and now a lamia, and the mage she was with apparently interacted with divine messengers on a regular basis, but mermaids were straining her credulity?

Gella only smirked and nodded. “Maybe one day you’ll get to meet one,” she teased before Akasia stopped them by a door marked with a number three.

“She hasss been ssstaring at her reflection for hoursss now,” Akasia said, coiling in on her tail as she hissed. “Doessssen’t ressspond to anything elsssse.”

“Thank you Akasia, I’ll see what I can do.” Gella said firmly, getting a nod from the lamia as she slithered off.

Looking through the tiny eye gate Celia could see a young woman with pale skin staring placidly into a mirror. Her hair had obviously once been a lustrous dark color, but now looked unkempt with long streaks of discolored white running through it. “Who is that?” she asked, turning to face Gella and stopping cold. She was used to seeing a kind of amused smirk on Gella’s face. Even when she had been fighting through the finale of Violet’s game, the mage had looked controlled. But now Gella’s expression was set between disgust and disappointment. Even though it clearly wasn’t aimed at Celia herself, the warrior found herself feeling incredibly unnerved by it.

“This,” pronounced Gella icily “is exactly the kind of mage you imagined I would be during that first breakfast together, I think.” She took a deep breath and let her usually amused confidence flow back over her expression. The door opened at her touch, and she ushered Celia inside. “She had a grand idea of how to take over Cerene with an army of helpless charmed civilians, and executed it perhaps in the most brutish and crass way possible.”

Celia’s stomach went icy with sympathetic dread. “She forced untrained civilians to fight?” That was worse than anything Gella had even hinted at. Treating other people like the mechanical things Gella had brought with her to fight.

“I take it she failed?” Celia offered hopefully

“Spectacularly so,” Gella said in satisfaction. “Power base destroyed, plan foiled and a particularly vengeful agent of Ishi hacked away at her mind until she couldn’t access her ragira anymore.”

“So why is she here? That certainly sounds like something worthy of the headsman’s ax.”

“Because I abhor wasted potential, like I said.” Gella said calmly, looking at the addled former mage. “She had some insights into enchantments, and has a decent enough mind under all the ego and mania. But recently the damage to her mind, well, it’s become too much for her to bear.”

Celia looked back at the dazed woman. “Gella,” she began thoughtfully, “earlier, you called yourself a slaver. And if you twist the definition into a knot you might be, but her...” she nodded at the prisoner “that is what a real slaver does. Treating people like things” She turned away from the door to smile tenderly at Gella. “Call yourself one if you really need to,” she said softly, “but in my mind there is such a huge difference between how you treat the people in your care that it doesn’t apply.” She leaned forward to place a soft kiss on Gella’s welcoming lips. “Even someone as wicked as that woman, you’re giving her a clean room, food and from the sounds of it medical care?” she added, pointing at the uneaten food still on the room’s tiny desk.

“Wasted potential, like I said,” Gella affirmed with a nod. “Sticking her in some dark hole to fester does no good to anyone.” She looked back at the prisoner mage and sighed heavily. “And I would love to find some way she could be useful still, but I fear I am reaching the end of my skills with her mind. The damage is simply too great.”

“So... what does that mean for her?”

“If I can’t help her break free of this catatonic state, I will have her transferred to Amourot. The First Counselor will be able to help her,” Gella said with a note of remorse.

“He has that kind of power?” Celia asked

Gella nodded easily. “The First Counselor is a brilliant and powerful mage. It would be child’s play for him to create a whole and stable mind for her.”

‘Create a mind?” Celia looked at the woman staring off into space. She could feel the complexities of that looming beyond her comprehension, but the expression on Gella’s face told her it was an outcome the mage was not looking forward to. It felt strange seeing Gella so distraught over something. As in her library that morning, there was a sense of vulnerability peeking through. Stepping forward, Ceilia pulled the mage into an embrace. “I’m sure you’re doing your best for her. Much more than most people would probably attempt.”

The mage slipped her arms around Celia’s waist, letting the warrior hug her. Gella didn’t melt into the embrace, but simply held her, a small smile adorning her face. After a moment and a few rapid blinks Gella stepped back from the embrace, cheeks tinged pink as she looked away for a moment. When she turned back to face Celia, the flush was already fading as her usual composed demeanor adorned her face once more. “Thank you Celia,” she said sweetly. “I wanted you to see this other aspect of my work, but I think we have spent enough of our day together indoors. I want to show you one of my favorite spots in the valley.”

Gella wasn’t exaggerating, Celia decided. The hilltop had a commanding view of the entire valley. The farms and homesteads outside the main village dotted a patchwork of crops and fields ripening in the summer heat, while the shimmering river wound like a ribbon toward the mouth of the valley.

They were sitting side by side on a blanket Gella had produced from nowhere, enjoying a mild wine that left a lingering medley of flavors on her tongue. “This valley really is a little paradise,” Celia said happily, taking another sip from her glass. Her smile turned cheeky as she turned to Gella. “If you had just shown me this view and told me I would get room and board when I caught you stealing from that warehouse I think I would have jumped at the chance.”

Gella’s eyebrow rose. “The honorable Celia Evergleam admitting she could have been bought for a pretty view and a soft bed?” she teased softly.

Celia looked down into her glass, feeling her cheeks flush. Looking back, she wouldn’t have even if Gella had offered a palace. She only had the loyalty of her guildmates then, and that was far too easily lost.

“No, the noble woman in shining armor I met that night was who I wanted,” Gella continued. “And that woman is a warrior to her core,” she said appreciatively.

Noble woman. Well, she would be soon, apparently. Celia couldn’t hide the grin, and didn’t even try. “You saw a knight, even called me one,” Celia replied happily.

“You were brave, and skilled,” Gella agreed. “And of course quite pretty.” There was a time Celia would have deflected a comment like that, but it only took the whispered reminder in her mind that she was proud of her body to nod along with Gella.

“Lauren told me in your version I leapt right into dueling you without hesitation,” Celia said, laughing a little at the thought. “Like some storybook duelist meeting her match,”

Gella shrugged without looking the least bit guilty. “It’s the truth, more or less, and my Dreamgirl does tend to see the world in stories.” Gella’s gray eyes caught Celia and the warrior sighed softly, letting herself gaze deeply into them. “I am glad she was right about ours being a love story,” she said sweetly, “eventually,” she added, leaning forward to kiss the warrior chastely on the lips.

It was over far too quickly for Celia’s taste, and left a building heat in coiling sensually through her body. She shifted closer for another kiss, only to get another ephemerally light tease from the mage.

“Such an eager girl,” Gella breathed approvingly. “And I could explore this lovely body of yours,” she let her fingers brush the swell of Celia’s breast delicately. The warrior gasped and nodded. “And we will, when I claim every part of Celia Evergleam.” Celia let out a disappointed groan, which only earned her a sympathetic smile from the mage. “Come here, Celia. Head in my lap.”

The moment Celia let her head rest on Gella’s legs, looking up into that powerful caring woman’s eyes, she felt a deep thrum of contentment. It resonated with her deeply, beyond the simple need to feel good Gella’s teasing had ignited. She wanted to be here, with Gella, gazing into her eyes as long as she could.