Vassal by Sterling D'Este (ebook reader computer TXT) 📕

Alphonse looked eagerly at Tristan’s scars, not lecherously or in the bloodthirsty manner that Enyo would likely employ, but rather with an expert eye. “His back certainly was burned by something incredibly hot. Most man-made fires can’t burn someone that deep, that quickly…” She gasped. “Your story was true?!”

“Of course it was true,” Tristan said, pulling on his coverings with unusual haste. It was still dreadfully cold.

Alphonse looked to Etienne, excitement clearly writ across her face. She seemed to Delyth as though she hoped to share that excitement with him, hoped to discuss dragons and treasure hoards. But Etienne’s expression cut her off before she even began to speak.

“You could have gotten those anywhere,” he scoffed, scowling darkly, and Alphonse hastily looked away.

Delyth wasn’t sure if she believed Tristan or not, but she had seen Alphonse’s disappointment at Etienne’s reaction, and when the priestess looked down to find Alphonse gazing up at her, she found that she couldn’t voice her disbelief. Instead, Delyth turned to Tristan with a question. “What did you do with all the gold?”

Tristan snorted. “What else do you do with gold? I spent it.” He leaned back against his hands, gazing off towards the far wall of the cave as though remembering something extraordinary. “That loot kept me in wine and women for years.”

“Even the dice?” Alphonse asked.

Tristan looked sharply at Alphonse at the mention of the dice, though it was gone quickly, replaced with a cocky, teasing smile. Had Delyth imagined it?

The rogue laughed. “Of course I sold the dice, silly mouse. What self-respecting gambler would walk into a seedy joint with loot like that on display? It’d be like begging for a mugging. Besides, you need five dice to play Liar’s Dice, and there were only two.”

Glancing at the cave mouth, which had chunks of snow and ice dashing past at breakneck speeds, Alphonse yawned. “Well. I think I would have kept the dice. Or maybe the diadem. Something to prove I was there besides burns on my back.”

“You’d have looked pretty in a diadem,” Delyth said, and Etienne stood abruptly, disapproval clear across his features.

“I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me if the storm hasn’t cleared in the morning.”

Alphonse winced and looked away from Etienne, prompting a surge of frustration in Delyth’s chest. There was nothing she could do to mend the rift between them.

“Goodnight,” Alphonse whispered, though the halfbreed doubted Etienne heard it as he stomped off towards his tent, then she rose to retire as well.

Delyth stretched, her wings taking up their full span to either side of her. She was tired from the hard flight and the trek through the blizzard. Not to mention, more than a little eager for a few moments alone with Alphonse in the privacy of their tent.

She paused just long enough to mark the flap with her customary ward before stepping inside, only to find Alphonse sniffling with her back to the door. Her chest clenching, Delyth ducked forward and wrapped her arms around the smaller woman from behind, laying her pale cheek against the top of Alphonse’s head.  “Will you tell me what is going on now, bykhan?”

Alphonse scrambled around to clutch at Delyth’s shoulders, her grip surprisingly strong, practically hauling the larger woman down to her.

The healer’s voice was muffled as she spoke, clinging to Delyth.“He thinks I am replacing him as a friend and… and that it is unwise for me to grow so attached to you… Because it cannot end well.”

So the boy is jealous.

Delyth wasn’t all that surprised, though she was sorry that was how her closeness with Alphonse made him feel. She supposed it couldn’t be helped. She had, after all, been a newcomer just a couple moons ago, and it sounded like he was afraid of losing the friendship he’d shared with Alphonse for so long.

She sighed and held Alphonse tighter. Etienne’s jealousy might be unfortunate, but it was the other part that the priestess found really worrying.

“Do you think that this won’t end well?” Delyth’s voice was unusually small and vulnerable.

Did that mean that Alphonse still didn’t trust her? Or perhaps that Alphonse would leave her behind after they reached the temple?

The idea hurt more than Delyth was willing to admit. They had known each other so short a time, all things considered. When had Alphonse become so important, not only to protect but also to care for?

“I— Say all goes perfectly at the temple. Which, you admit, is a gamble. Say—say it’s just you and me… Then what? I—” the healer swallowed. “I live in Dailion, you live at the temple… I am a healer, you are a warrior. Bound to Enyo.”

Delyth growled. “I’m not bound to anyone. I promised I’d see this through for—for the people who cared for me as a child. After that…”

Did she want to go home?

The priestess didn’t think she could give herself over to a life of service in the temple, not after this. Not after getting to know Enyo as she really was. The people back home, the priests… they had no idea.

She owed them this quest, though. That much she had promised.

“There’s nothing left for me at Glynfford,” she said without bitterness. “I could stay—”

Delyth cut herself off. Did Alphonse even want her around? The way she had said it… ‘I’m a healer. You’re a warrior.’ Did that mean she did not wish to see Delyth after this? Was she only to be a momentary source of comfort?

The idea made her feel hollow.

The priestess swallowed, meeting Alphonse’s eyes only hesitantly. “I mean, only if you’d want me to.”

In her mind’s eye, Delyth saw Tanwen, turning away from a bloody scene: Delyth, gore-splattered and surrounded by the bodies of fallen raiders.

She’d been too strange, too brutish then.

Perhaps Alphonse didn’t want her in Dailion for that reason as well.

❀

Alphonse stopped crying, shock replacing her wallowing sorrow. She ate up every piece of Delyth’s expression. The tenderness in her eyes, the vulnerability in