There were already a few Alavari outside the door. To Frances’s relief, Epomonia and Aloudin were among them. The horse part of Epomonia’s chest had a big bandage, but she otherwise looked alright.
What was alarming was how worried the pair looked.
“Frances, thank Galena you’re up. Timur’s gone quiet now, but he still won’t let anybody inside,” said Aloudin. The orc winced. “I… I don’t know what he saw, but when we were in there, he suddenly broke down and told us to get out. I’ve never seen him like that.”
“Me neither, but I hope he’ll talk to me,” said Frances. She knocked on the door. “Timur?”
No answer. She swallowed. “Timur? Mataia? It’s me, Frances.”
She could hear the murmurs from the nosey academy students nearby, but Goldilora was already telling them to shush.
The door opened slowly, just wide enough for Frances to squeeze through, but Timur was nowhere in sight. Without hesitation, Frances stepped through and shut the door behind her.
Timur’s black eyes were tinged with red flecks and were still wet with tears. In one hand, he was holding onto a letter of some kind.
“Frances, I…” he lunged forward and seized her. “You’re alright. Oh Galena… I thought you were going to die.”
Blinking back tears of her own, Frances let herself sag into the prince’s arms. “It was a gas of some kind, meant to disable a mage’s singing. I’ll explain later and your mother knows more about it anyway. Timur, tell me what’s wrong.”
His hands trembling, Timur showed Frances the letter. “Morgan was so eager to see me. She was writing letters she wanted me to read. How she wanted to see Salpheron, and meet Edana Firehand. Now… for all I know, they’re torturing her, or even worse, and not only that, Epomonia was shot and you were wounded. I… I failed. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stop them, I couldn’t save you, and now my mother has us holed up here.”
“But Timur, those humans were prepared to fight mages. They had specialized equipment I’ve never seen before.” Frances sighed. “This failure is my fault too. I… I lost again.”
“There’s no way in hell I’m blaming you! You didn’t even have to be here. I dragged you out here, across Alavaria, into the thick of danger only for you to get hurt because I can’t protect those I love!” Timur howled.
The cry cut deep into Frances’s heart and she winced. “But that isn’t your fault—”
“I know, but I can’t help feeling that way! And why do I always need you of all people to tell me that? Why can’t I just… stop being so pathetic?”
Frances wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion, but she didn’t know what to say.
Anything she could think of didn’t seem adequate. She wanted to make him feel better but the hacking, hoarse sobs coming from the wreck her love had become shook her harder than if she was being hit.
It hurt more than the gas, she decided. Hearing him so forlorn hurt worse than the gas she got hit with.
And all she could do was hold Timur as tightly as she could and try not to break into tears herself.
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“Are you feeling better?” Frances asked. They were sitting on the ground, arms around each other. It was uncomfortable, their eyes were red but they didn’t want to move apart.
“A little. I… fuck, what do we do now, Frances?”
“We need to get out of Alavaria, with Aloudin and the others.” Frances swallowed. “There’s just a problem. Timur… your mother’s a healer mage, right?”
Timur nodded slowly. “Yes, she’s one of our best.”
Her heart sinking, Frances’s grip on the trogre stiffened, prompting him to caress her cheek. “Frances? What happened? What did she say?”
Resting her head against his shoulder, Frances closed her eyes. “Timur… I don’t know what to do. Your mother just told me that I can’t perform any magic for a month.”
“Wait, why not? Why is she forbidding you?” Timur demanded.
“It’s not her, it’s me. I... I’ve overused my magic. In the battles, in my duel with your father.” She bit back any mention of his curse, but Timur’s eyes were already widening with horror. “If I don’t rest, I might lose my magic entirely.”
“Wait, but… can’t she do something?” Timur asked.
Frances sighed. “Maybe, but Timur, I don’t think I should have lost that fight. At least, not if I was truly fine. I… I need to rest, and I’m not sure what this means for us. How are we going to get out of Alavaria? It’s a month back to Lapanteria,” Frances said.
“We made it, though,” said Timur.
“Yes, but the war’s resumed and there will be armies and patrols all over the Lapanterian front. Don’t you remember that we got caught by Aloudin’s squad?” Frances asked.
“Right, and we were nearly arrested at the inn,” Timur muttered. He averted his gaze. “I’m… I’m sorry. If I had known how much the curse would take out of you, I wouldn’t have let you do it.”
Frances gently touched Timur’s chin, drawing his attention back to her. “Hey, I didn’t know either, and if I hadn’t, you would have died. And… and we wouldn’t have this.”
Timur blinked and smiled. “That’s true.” Slowly, he leaned in until he was resting his cheek against Frances’s forehead. “Frances, thank you, for everything. I… I love you.”
“I love you too,” she whispered, smiling, despite everything, or perhaps in spite of everything. Because what else could she do?
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“So… are we prisoners or are we free?” Epomonia asked them later that night.
She, Frances, Timur, Aloudin and his squad were in a spare classroom, eating the food provided by the chefs of the Academy. Timur and Aloudin had already checked for listening spells, and while Frances wanted to check too, that would mean using her magic.
And once Ivy’s Sting had been made aware of her master’s condition, she’d wholeheartedly agreed with Goldilora’s prescription. So Frances couldn’t even cast magic if she wanted to.
“No fucking idea,” muttered Venne, one of Aloudin’s soldiers. The young ogress shoved another loaf into her mouth, much to the amused annoyance of her troll girlfriend, Joa. “They treat us fine, but they are keeping a close guard on us.”
Joa nodded. “I think they need us for she omething. I’ve snuck around a bit and can hear them discussing things. I can’t get close enough to figure out what they’re talking about, but they seem to be waiting on Goldilora’s decision.”
“The question is what would Pedagos Goldilora need us for,” said Aloudin, rolling his water around his cup with practiced ease. “Do you have any ideas, Your Highness?”
Frances blinked as Timur started. He hadn’t expected to be addressed. That, and he’d also been deep in thought. Frances could tell because the prince’s tail was twitching, and because he was playing with his loaf of bread, ripping it into smaller and smaller pieces. Right now the pieces were the size of Frances’s thumbprint.
“Um, pardon me. What was that?”
“We were wondering if you had any ideas about why your mother would keep us here, Timur,” said Aloudin patiently, and to Frances’s relief, not at all annoyed.
Timur swallowed. “I don’t, Aloudin, and that’s what I’m worried about.” The prince flicked breadcrumbs onto his plate. “Goldilora was always very blunt and to the point. When… when I asked if she wanted to come back to the palace. She said never, to never ask her again, and that she had no ‘particular affection’ for me.”
“She said what?” Frances stammered.
“But that’s horrible!” Epomonia echoed.
“Yeah, but… I get why. I mean, this is my dad we’re talking about,” Timur said. He waved his hand. “My point is that shutting us in a room, telling us to let her deal with things, and then feeding us isn’t her style. I can’t figure out what her motives are.”
“But she’s a noble, right? Of House Shatterstone if I recall correctly. They all have had to decide their allegiances in this civil war,” said Aloudin.
Timur scratched his head. “House Shatterstone is… complicated. It’s a very old house with numerous cadet branches, some of whom support my father and others who do not. My mother is part of the Onyx cadet branch, of which she is the only surviving member. That’s why she was briefly my father’s consort. From what I understand, most of the House Shatterstone wanted nothing to do with my father because he already had a chief queen in Ulania, my half-brother Teutobal’s mother. Only my mother, who wanted the financial support she’d get from bearing me, wanted to be Thorgoth’s consort.”
Joa, the troll orphan, made a face. “Galena, why do you nobles have to make things so complicated?”
Timur shrugged. “I wish I knew. In any case, I have no idea where she stands. It’s a good sign that she hasn’t just killed us but I don’t know what she’s up to.”
There was a knock on the door. Aloudin rose to his feet and opened it, revealing a winding Olgakaren.
“Hey everybody—Oof,” Olgakaren chuckled as she wrapped her wings around Timur, who’d practically flown across the classroom. “I’m good. Your mother does good work.”
“You met her?” Timur asked, loosening his hug.
“Yeah. And she told me that we are to meet her after dinner,” said Olgakaren. “Speaking of, I’m starving.”
Frances passed the harpy a plate with a loaf of bread and some of the braised beef and roasted vegetables they were eating. “Here, and, thank goodness you’re alright, Olgakaren.”
“Yeah. It was damned close. Still don’t know why humans are here and after Morgan,” said the harpy as she sat down. After wiping her claws with a wet towel, she used them to pick up the bread. “So, what did I miss? You all look… worried.”
“We were wondering why Goldilora hasn’t killed us yet,” said Frances, surprising herself with how amiable she sounded.
“Ah, well I’m not entirely sure either but I can tell you that she is deeply worried about the Academy’s neutrality. It’s why I told you not to get caught,” said Olgakaren. The harpy took a bite out of her bread. “When I arrived, your mother was… not happy to see me. She questioned me at length about who I was loyal to and well, I don’t think she believed me when I said I wasn’t sure either, and just wanted to protect Morgan. Then a few days before you arrived, the Academy’s royal garrison was withdrawn. I couldn’t get into the meetings of course, but it’s clear that the Academy’s had a falling out with the royal court.”
TImur frowned, stroking his chin. “But so far as I know, they haven’t declared for my sister. Come to think of it, I don’t know what my mother’s politics are. She… she could be supporting my father.”
“Then why heal me and Epomonia? She even gave me back Ivy’s Sting,” Frances mused. “Joa’s probably right, she might need us for something.”
“I guess we’ll find out after dinner,” said Aloudin, hungrily finishing off his plate.
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Only Frances, Timur and Aloudin were allowed into Goldilora’s study, which to her eyes, gave off an odd feeling. Frances could see there were a lot of books stacked on shelves against the room’s walls, and similar to her mother’s office, it had a cauldron set aside along with various herbs and ingredients for making potions.
Both however, showed no signs of being used and seemed almost neatly set aside. Rather, the most cluttered area was around the main desk where a large communication mirror stood, along with a chipped mug and a half-empty bottle of wine. Underneath the window facing out toward the courtyard was a neatly folded blanket.
Goldilora sat behind a desk with neatly stacked class schedules and notes, hands steepled as she faced the trio.
“Do you three understand what a horrible position you’ve put me in?” Goldilora hissed.
“Why don’t you enlighten us, Pedagos?” Timur asked, hands behind his back.
The ogre groaned. “Don’t smartass me, Timur. You know the situation in Alavaria is tenuous as is the Academy’s. You also probably figured out that I need you all for something. Only, the most important member of your group has broken her own magic—”
“By fighting a war to save innocents. Fighting a war to save my life!” Timur hissed.
Goldilora’s jaw dropped open, before she closed it and sighed. “Pardon me, Stormcaller, that was out of line.”
Stolen story; please report.
Timur blinked, but pulled his hand back, while his mother ran a hand through her hair. Frances watched the ogress with narrowed eyes, but she mostly was glancing at Timur. He was angry, and yet there was somehow buried hurt in his crossed-armed posture.
“Anyway, this is what I need you to do.” Goldilora pulled out a stack of papers held together by a clip. “I have sixty-two half-human students and their families that you need to take out of Alavaria. If you do this, I’ll give you the food and money necessary to make the trip,”
Frances exchanged a glance with Timur and Aloudin.
“Why us, Pedagos?” Aloudin asked.
“And why do you need to get them out of Alavaria? The Academy is neutral,” said Timur.
“News of what happened with Morgan is giving Thorgoth an excuse to take full control of the Academy and I know what he’s going to do to those half-humans and their families. I’ve known this was coming for a while, but there’s nobody else who can do this except for you three,” said Goldilora.
Frances frowned. Something didn’t seem completely right with Goldilora’s request. Why ask them? And if they were thinking about this, why hadn’t they acted earlier?
“With all respect, why can’t you protect them, m’am? I mean, you’re not without resources,” said Frances in a gentle tone.
“I have responsibilities to the Academy that I can’t just discharge,” said Goldilora. Yet, while the ogress continued to meet the three’s eyes, her tone was no longer as firm.
“But you’re willing to kick out those students to a bunch of strangers?” Timur demanded.
Goldilora silently rose to her feet, her eyes fixed on the prince. “Why do you insist on thinking badly of me, son?”
“Why don’t you answer the question, Pedagos?” Timur demanded.
The ogress grimaced, “Would it help you decide if you’re taking these refugees?”
“Yes!” Timur hissed.
Goldilora nodded and took in a deep breath. “Look, I’m not a combat mage. I’m a researcher and a healer. I can fight, and I have fought, but that was an age ago during the Strife. If I were to take them, it wouldn’t go well and if they stayed here, they would die. Thanks to Olgakaren, though, I knew you were coming or at least someone was coming to get Morgan. So I was hoping that this rescue party could take a few more half-human children as well.”
Frances nodded slowly. The story seemed to make sense. She could tell the ogress wasn’t saying everything, but from what she heard, it was good enough for her. She was not going to let half-humans get killed by Thorgoth.
“How many Alavari are we talking about, Goldilora?” Timur asked.
“One hundred and ninety-eight,” said the Pedagos.
“One hundred and—we can’t protect that many!” Aloudin gasped.
Goldilora grimaced. “You’ll have many mages amongst them. They can protect themselves and take care of themselves mostly. They just need extra protection and someone who can vouch for them once they get to Erisdale or Lapanteria—”
“Why didn’t you just tell us that upfront?” Timur growled.
“Would the number make a difference?” Goldilora asked in a level tone.
“It would have shown us you wanted to be truthful with us, Pedagos!” Timur exclaimed.
Frances gently took Timur’s arm. “Dear, I think we would have tried to help them anyway. Though I do agree with you that she could have been more upfront.” Her eyes fixed back on Goldilora whose stoic features showed no readable emotion. “There is something I want to know, though. Why are you trusting us with your students?”
“I don’t exactly have a choice, Stormcaller. All I have is you and your companions,” said Goldilora.
Frances took a deep breath. “I… I’ve killed hundreds of Alavaria, and many mages. Many that were probably trained at this very Academy. I find that very hard to believe.
Goldilora didn’t break eye contact, but Frances could see her tail twitch, and swish back and forth, just like her son did when he was nervous.
“I trust Timur and by extension, I trust you, Stormcaller. That and you should really consider that your own reputation really does precede you. There are scary stories about you, but most really just cast you in an honorable light.” Goldilora picked up the sheath of papers and handed them over. “This is the information on the students you’ll be escorting. I’ll do my best to stall Thorgoth’s representatives, but they will be here in about two weeks. So start thinking of ideas of how to get everybody out of here.”
Frances nodded and took the papers, but Timur suddenly stepped forward.
“Hold on, why the hell would you trust me? You wanted nothing to do with me, Goldilora. Some Alavari are even calling me and Titania rebels. Speaking of, do you support Titania or are you for my father?”
Goldilora gave Timur a flat stare. “With everything that I’ve told you, do you really think I’m for your father, Timur?”
“And yet you aren’t leading the Academy against him. Aren’t you the Pedagaos of the Alavari Academy for Magic?” Timur asked.
Frances had been just about to ask if Timur could calm down, but his question made her pause. No matter how angry the prince had voiced it, now that he had asked the question, she couldn’t get it out of her head. Why wasn’t Goldilora, the head of a powerful school of magicians, not taking a stance? Indeed, things were risky for her, but she could do more.
“I’m sheltering you, providing you supplies, and you’re asking me to do more?” the ogress asked, a hint of a growl in her tone.
“You implied you were against King Thorgoth. So why aren’t you taking a side?”
Scowling, Goldilora picked up her quill and pulled over another sheet of paper. “This conversation is over, son.”
“I’m not your son!” Timur bellowed.
As Goldilora looked up, her eyes wide, Frances gently took hold of Timur’s hand. Although she wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing, she also put a hand on Timur’s shoulder.
A silence had cut through the room. It centered on the hurt and resentment in Timur’s expression, and the shock in Goldilora’s. As the ogress recovered, however, she looked away, wiping her eyes.
“We’ll review the files, Goldilora. Thank you for your time,” said Frances quietly. Tugging in Timur’s hand, she guided him out of the room, whilst Aloudin closed the door.
Just before the orc did, however, Frances caught Goldilora looking after them, her eyes bright with tears.
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Timur didn’t shake Frances’s grip off of him, but she did release her touch on her shoulder once he seemed to start walking by himself.
“Sorry, I messed up, didn’t I?” Timur sighed. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at her.”
As Frances considered her answer, Aloudin spoke up.
“Maybe, but I also found her frustrating. That and I think you are right to be angry with her. She basically abandoned you to your father and she wants to call you her son?” Aloudin shook his head. “Very poor choice of words on her part.”
Timur stared at the older orc like he’d sprouted a second head. “Wait, you don’t think I messed up?”
“You made mistakes, but I understand why you were so angry, especially considering what she said and what she’s done to you, Your Highness. I know if I was younger, I’d have probably stormed out of the room,” said Aloudin in a rueful tone.
At Timur’s glance Frances smiled bitterly. “Timur, I think you could have done better, but you know I hate my birth parents. I think I have some understanding of what you’re going through, dear.”
The prince blinked. “Oh… But I still probably shouldn’t have gotten so in her face about it,” he said.
“Yes, but it’s done. We can’t really do anything about it,” said Aloudin, shrugging.
However, Frances wasn’t so sure and when Timur glanced at her to get her opinion, she mouthed, “later,” and turning to Aloudin, she said, “Captain Aloudin, there is something that’s still bothering me now that I think about it.”
“Go on?” said the orc.
“The fact that there were humans coming after Morgan, after Thorgoth threatened her life,” said Frances. “I find the timing far too coincidental.”
Timur and Aloudin exchanged glances, and nodded..
“Let’s get back to our room first, this will have to happen far from prying eyes,” said Timur.
“Good idea, Your Highness,” said Aloudin.
----------------------------------------
Once with the others and having explained the situation, Aloudin dismissed his squad to go rest and recuperate, while he, Epomonia, Olgakaren, Timur and Frances sequestered themselves in the empty classroom that they’d been given as their lounge.
“Your father doesn’t control any human spies, doesn’t he, Timur?” Olgakaren asked.
Timru shook his head. “No. But the timing is too coincidental. He has to have something to do with the humans kidnapping Morgan, but what I can’t imagine.”
“Especially since the humans claimed to be working for Darius and Princess Janize—Janize is the leader of the Erisdalian Traditionalist faction,” Frances said. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Which doesn’t make sense. The last people who’d want to work with Thorgoth are the Traditionalists.”
“Maybe there was something special about Morgan that would make her a target?” Epomonia inquired, turning to Olgakaren. “She is Prince Teutobal’s daughter.”
“Yes, um, also, who are you again?” Olgakaren asked.
“Wait, you haven’t been introduced?” Timur stammered.
“Well I talked to Aloudin briefly so I am caught up on the squad you two picked up, but not that I have anything against you, I’m just not sure why you are here,” said Olgakaren, arching an eyebrow at the centaur.
Said centaur swallowed. “Oh um, I’m Epomonia, I’m um, Timur’s ex. We made up.”
The harpy blinked with all sets of her eyelids. “How has Frances not electrified you yet?
“I’m not that lightning happy!” Frances exclaimed.
“No you aren’t, but you are definitely more gracious than I gave you credit for,” said Olgakaren jokingly.
“That she is,” said Timur, bumping his shoulder against Frances’s. Unable to keep up her mock anger for any longer, Frances snorted and chuckled.
“Back to the topic at hand,” said Aloudin, the orc trying and failing to hide a smile. “Morgan is a bastard. She can’t inherit Alavaria’s throne, but perhaps the humans still wanted some kind of hostage?”
“Maybe, but her lack of ability to inherit Alavaria’s throne means she won’t make a very good hostage,” said Timur.
Frances pursed her lips. “Maybe she had a different kind of value. Olgakaren, how talented a mage is Morgan?”
The harpy tilted her head. “I don’t have access to all her grades, but she was very talented, and powerful too. She wasn’t top of her class, but I heard the teachers mentioning how much raw power she had.”
“How much raw power? Say… how heavy a weight could she lift?” Frances asked, citing the most standard way of measuring a young mage’s power.
“I’m not sure. We’ll have to talk to Goldilora for that information,” said Olgakaren.
Timur suddenly sprang to his feet. “Wait, hold on, give me a second.” He charged off. A few minutes later and he returned with a book. “I was reading Morgan’s diary because… well…” He sighed. “Anyway! She wrote down several weeks ago she could lift… Oh wow. She could lift one thousand pounds?”
Olgakaren, Aloudin and Frances’s eyes widened.
“Is that a lot?” Epomonia inquired, looking a little lost.
“A hell of a lot. Most mages at twelve can’t lift more than three hundred,” Aloudin stammered.
Frances nodded. “When I was fourteen, I could only lift more than that, but magic tends to scale as we grow into adolescence.”
“How much could you lift by the way?” Timur asked.
“I was still learning magic then, but I could lift fifteen hundred pounds of boulders. It would give me a headache for the rest of the day, but I could do it.” Frances crossed her arms, running calculations in her head. “If I was tested at twelve years old… I think I could lift eight or nine hundred.”
“Wait, you’re not saying Morgan has the potential to be stronger than you, Frances?” Olgakaren stammered.
“The weight test isn’t the only way we can measure her magic. It works best for young children because as we get older, we find new and more imaginative ways to re-route and employ magic, especially as we grow in our understanding of the world. However, in terms of raw power… I think she has that potential,” said Frances.
“Hmm, the problem is you can’t do anything with a raw mage, though,” said Aloudin. “I mean, as powerful as Morgan is, she’s untrained. She’s not a threat to anybody, but neither is she a valuable target.”
“But for whatever reason, Princess Janize and Earl Darius saw that she has value,” said Timur. “Value enough to prepare an elite strike team with special and rare poisons to kidnap her. Not to kill her, but to kidnap her.”
Something nagged at the back of Frances’s mind at her love’s words. She wasn’t sure why, though, and so she remained quiet.
“Yes, but… how did the humans know she was here anyway?” Olgakaren asked suddenly. The harpy opened her mouth to continue and scowled. “Damnit, we are missing something here.”
Aloudin stood up, one finger scratching at his temple. “Let’s go back to the beginning, His Highness and Lady Frances first found out that Morgan’s life was at risk… when?”
The trogre princes shut his eyes. “At the peace conference. After I refused to disclose whether I was helping Queen Titania and the human delegates escape from my father’s trap, he threatened Morgan’s life.”
Frances leapt to her feet. “Wait, Timur, why did your father tell you about Morgan?”
Timur blinked. “Because he wanted to hurt me?”
“Yes, but we know that if he was really going to hurt you, he’d hurt Morgan and then show you. Like he did with me back at our duel,” Frances stammered. As recognition spread across Timur’s features, Epomonia raised her hands.
“Wait, hold on. What did he do?” the centaur asked.
Frances couldn’t meet the centaur’s gaze. “Look, King Thorgoth snapped my limbs in front of Timur and… he forced Timur to cut his tail off in front of me.” Frances crossed her arms and took a deep breath as a shiver ran down her spine. “The point is, Thorgoth likes to torture people. So… why did he tell Timur that Morgan was in danger? And…” Frances felt the blood in her body run cold. “Oh. Oh by the Gods. He knew. He knew the humans were coming for Morgan.”
“Wait, but how could he have known? He’s the King of Alvaria, not of Erisdale and he can’t possibly be working with Princess Janize and Darius,” said Olgakaren.
“No. Frances must be right. I remember now. When dad was threatening me, he said: “some people will visit your dear niece to check on her safety.”” Timur shook his head. “We sometimes use the word people to refer to Alavari, but we usually use the word Alavari, or folk. No, he meant humans. He knew. He knew about the attack, but… but how?”
Frances wrung her fingers and started to pace across the classroom. “And the worst part of it all is that I feel… I have this feeling that I can’t pin it down.”
“What kind of feeling, Frances?” Aloudin asked.
Trying to focus on that strange sensation, Frances closed her eyes and tried to remember why she was feeling why she was feeling. It was something to do with the past, something that had happened. Only, the half-remembered echo remained frustratingly out of reach.
“I don’t know. I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” Frances sighed.
Stepping around to stand in front of her, Timur wrapped his arms around her. “That’s alright, Frances. I think we figured out some important things at least.”
“I know. Let’s… let’s go for a break, everybody, and meet up here after dinner,” said Frances.
There were no objections, and as everybody dispersed, by unspoken agreement, Frances and Timur walked to the room they shared.
“Tired?” Timur asked as Frances sat down on her bed. There were two beds in their room, but both were large enough for two.
“My brain is. I don’t think I need a nap, but I might just lie down for a bit,” said Frances. She smiled at the trogre sitting across from her. “But… if you want company, I can try to stay up.”
Timur returned her smile. “You really don’t have to, Frances.”
“But I want to,” she said. Her cheeks felt warm as she met the trogre’s eyes. “It’s nice having more people around, but I kind of missed it when it was just me and you on the road.”
“It was nice, wasn’t it? Spending our nights under the stars, talking until we fell asleep?” Timur mused, reminiscing as if it had happened an age ago.
Frances giggled and averted her gaze. “I… I really liked the spooning.”
The prince chuckled. “I still find it hilarious that the people in the Otherworld call it spooning.”
“I can’t believe Alavari call it, ‘playing blanket,’” Frances replied, giggling at the mirth in Timur’s eyes.
“In hindsight, it is a rather funny term,” said Timur. Slowly, he got up and walked over to sit beside Frances. “By the way, Mataia… how are you?”
“Me?” Frances asked, blinking owlishly.
“Yes. I… I know not being able to perform magic is weighing on you,” said Timur gently.
Frances felt her shoulders drop and she sighed. “I… I suppose I’m just trying to think about how lucky I am to find this out before something permanent happened. But… there’s nothing I can do. It’s done and it just… sucks.”
As Timur opened her arms to her, she leant in, revelling in how warm she felt in his tender embrace, loving how she could tuck her head underneath his chin, and hearing his heartbeat through his shirt.
“Well, I was thinking that maybe, well...” Timur stiffened slightly, and blurted out, “If you’re up for it, we could do some of what we did before your duel with my father.”
Frances blinked and met Timur’s gaze. He was blushing, but his eyes were entirely serious, which made for a pretty amusing expression.
“You don’t need magic to enjoy sex,” said Timur.
Frances’s mouth dropped open as her prince, realizing what he’d just said, let go of her to bury his head in his hands.
“Oh Galena did I just say that?” the prince groaned.
Frances burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. Thankfully, she managed to stop herself and plant a quick kiss on Timur’s cheek to bring a smile right back to his face.
“Yes, you did, and I think I am very much interested in what you are proposing, Your Highness,” said Frances. Taking a deep breath, Frances reached out for one of her love’s hands. She trembled, just a little, as she guided that six-fingered hand, and placed it very deliberately on her chest.
Somehow, even though he wasn’t touching her skin, the idea that only cloth separated his touch from her breast made her heart race.
“Are you sure?” Timur whispered, more than a little awed.
“Um, mostly? I… no sex today, but… I want to go further. I’ll tell you, okay? I just really want to try letting you touch me… touch me where you haven’t before,” she stammered.
Timur grinned and leaned in, planting an electric kiss on her lips that was over too briefly. “In that case, my dear, let me show you a little of what you’ve been missing out.”
Although she was a bit scared, Frances quickly undid the buttons to her dress. No, there would be no sex today. She didn’t feel ready yet, but… after months spent in the same space, in the same bed with her prince, she wanted him, more than she ever had before.