“No,” breathed Esofi.
Adale leaned forward and pressed her lips to Esofi’s. Everything about her was soft, as if the princess was made of nothing but feathers and cream. She was warm, too, and Adale wanted to pull her close, to press their bodies together. But perhaps that would have been pushing her luck a bit too far, and besides, the complicated and alien Rhodian dress left her uncertain.
“Crown Princess,” murmured Esofi against Adale’s mouth. She was not returning the kiss, but she wasn’t resisting, either. It occurred to Adale that the princess had no idea what she was meant to do in this situation.
Adale broke the kiss, and Esofi opened her eyes. Most of her lip paint was gone, but she didn’t seem to have noticed.
“I-I’m sorry,” said Adale awkwardly. “I…”
“Do not be,” said Esofi. “If I’d wanted you to stop, I would have said so.” She took Adale’s hand and laced their fingers together. “Or do you regret it already?”
“No!” cried Adale. “Not at all. Not like that.”
“Good.” Esofi gave a small nod. Adale couldn’t see her moving, but Esofi seemed to somehow be sitting nearer to her than she’d been just a few minutes before. Esofi’s other hand moved to touch the side of Adale’s face. The texture of her lace glove felt odd against her cheek.
“You never wear powder,” observed Esofi.
“No,” said Adale. “I’ve never liked it.”
“Mm,” said Esofi. “Perhaps you’re wiser than I. The trouble is, once you begin wearing it, you can never stop, or people will think you’re ill.”
Adale laughed, and Esofi withdrew her hand. “But then you must not have any trouble pretending to be sick when you want to get out of something.”
“Get out of something?” Esofi repeated.
“You know. Ceremonies. Or services.”
Esofi blinked up at her. “Oh. I suppose I never thought of that.” But fortunately, she didn’t seem offended or annoyed by the implication that she might want to shirk her responsibilities. “I suppose anything I would have wanted to avoid involved my siblings, back in Rhodia.”
“You have many siblings, don’t you?” asked Adale. She couldn’t recall where she’d heard that, but it sounded correct to her ears.
“Yes,” said Esofi. “Two brothers, three sisters.”
“And you weren’t close to any of them?”
“No. I suppose I wasn’t.” Esofi looked distant. “I always knew…we all knew…that I would be leaving someday. We never discussed it, but I think we all decided it would be easier for everyone if I just…”
“That’s not right.” Adale was suddenly angry on Esofi’s behalf. “You didn’t deserve that, you should have been—they should have done the opposite, if they knew they were going to lose you!”
“Perhaps,” said Esofi.
“What about your parents?” asked Adale.
Esofi swallowed visibly. “My father is a good man,” she said at last. “Our people love him for his patience and understanding.”
“And your mother?”
“Oh, they love her too,” said Esofi in a brittle tone. “Everyone loves her.”
“I am sorry,” whispered Adale.
Esofi seemed to brighten a little. “Never mind that—I am free of them now. Ieflaria will be my home from now on. I will have another family, a better one.” Her fingers tightened around Adale’s.
“A family,” repeated Adale. “Do you mean…?”
“What?” asked Esofi.
“Everyone is wondering about heirs,” Adale said. “I suppose…there is the Change.” The Change was a ritual performed by the priestesses of Dayluue. Most people tried it at least once in their life just for the novelty, though it wouldn’t last for very long unless the person being transformed had a soul that was willing to remain in its new body forever.
Adale knew her own soul was not willing, but a few hours would probably be enough time. Other women had managed it.
“Ah,” said Esofi. She suddenly seemed nervous. “I did not think you were ready to speak of such things.”
“Maybe I’m not,” admitted Adale. “Maybe I won’t be for a few years yet.”
“We have time.” Esofi looked distinctly relieved, and Adale wondered if she was dreading the possibility of children just as much as Adale was. “When you are ready…”
“And if I’m never ready?” Adale regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them, even though they were, as far as Adale knew, the truth.
“Then we never will,” said Esofi. “There will be other heirs, other families. Your line will not die out with us. I’m sure the older nobles and your parents’ advisors won’t like it, but they cannot force us.”
“You are truly certain you will not become impatient with me?” asked Adale.
“I swear it before Iolar and Talcia and any other gods who may be listening,” said Esofi firmly. She still had not released her hold on Adale’s hand. “I am in no more of a hurry than you are.”
“Oh,” said Adale. “I thought perhaps…some noblewomen want nothing more than to start producing heirs.”
“Not I,” said Esofi. “There are so many other things to accomplish, after all. We’ve no shortage of children in the world. What we do have a shortage of is battlemages.” Esofi looked guilty. “Perhaps I should have gone to the temple today.”
“Why didn’t you?” asked Adale.
Esofi glanced down at the kitten in her lap. “Selfishness, I suppose.”
“How do you mean?”
“I was curious about your cousins,” Esofi admitted. “I’d hoped to encounter them today to see for myself what they were like, but they retired to their rooms so quickly, I could not even catch a glimpse. I know I should be focusing on the establishment of the university, but I’ve been spending so much time on it, I thought a single day away wouldn’t harm anyone.”
“And has it?” asked Adale.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” Esofi gave a little shrug. “Still, I shouldn’t be indulging myself so. Ieflarians die every time a dragon attacks. I should—”
“I don’t think one day will make a difference when the university hasn’t even been built yet,” pointed out Adale.
“We cannot know,” Esofi said. “And now I find myself wondering if we should begin classes without the building. Construction will take a year, at the very least. But if we can begin training people earlier…it might make a difference.”
“Well, the day is not done yet,” Adale said. “Perhaps you can still go. Skip the hospital and go straight to the Temple of Talcia. They’ll be delighted to see you, I’m sure. And I can…I can accompany you if you like.”
“Yes,” said Esofi, her fingertips playing across the surface of Adale’s palm. “I—only if you want to, though. I know you are…not so comfortable in temples.”
“It’s not the temples as much as the services,” admitted Adale. “But nevertheless, I will go with you gladly. I want to be where you are. Wherever that is.”
Esofi reached out and touched Adale’s face again, her open palm resting against Adale’s cheek. Adale leaned in, wrapped an arm around Esofi, and pulled her close enough to press their foreheads together. Esofi’s lips were irresistibly close, and Adale kissed her again. This time, Esofi returned the kiss, though she still seemed a bit uncertain.
Adale broke the kiss for a moment so that she could kiss Esofi’s nose instead, which earned her an adorable little giggle. All the anxiety seemed to have left Esofi’s body, and the princess curled closer to her, so close that Adale could feel Esofi’s heartbeat, slow and rhythmic, against her chest.
“You’re so beautiful,” marveled Adale.
“You truly think so?” There was genuine doubt in Esofi’s voice.
“I do,” said Adale, trailing one hand down Esofi’s back. “But surely you hear that all the time?”
There was the sound of someone fiddling with the lock outside, and Esofi immediately straightened up. The two disentangled rapidly, returning to their original sitting positions within a matter of seconds. A minute later, the door opened, and in came Mireille balancing a tray with a pitcher of water in one hand.