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Chapter 69

CHAPTER 69

Katarina opened her eyes a couple of hours after she'd heard Olivia's breathing shift into the slow, deep breaths of real sleep.

She herself couldn't sleep, the bed was suffocatingly soft, she almost felt as though she was lost at sea with how plush and yielding it was. She struggled to escape, and finally settled for rolling out of the canopied bed onto the floor. Even her own bed in her apartments in her family's estate wasn't as plush as that mattress. She rose to her feet and with light, quick steps strode to the cabinet where her travelling clothes were.

After a moment's thought she quickly grabbed her hat and coat and settled herself into a corner of the room, back against the wall, knees to her chin, her coat draped around her and the hat pulled low over her face. She had long lost count of how many times she'd slept in such a way, back to a tree, coat wrapped around her, hat low to protect against rain and mosquitos, her gun cradled against her belly, waiting for the dawn of the next day.

Even the lush carpeting felt strange, she mused. Thick and plush and soft against her skin. At least the floor underneath her, and the walls behind her were hard. She had a fleeting thought of Armilla's cell-like room in the Knight-Errant's quarters, and wished for a room and bed like that. So thinking, she fell into a deep sleep.

Olivia woke a few hours later, in the dim light of pre-dawn, and struggled out of the bed herself.

She glanced around quickly, alarm mounting in her chest, wondering where Katarina was, half-suspecting that Katarina had simply left the Church and temple grounds entirely.

She was about to ring the bell to summon maids and begin canvassing the city of Darnell, when she spotted a curled-up shadowy figure in a corner of the room, the heavy leather coat tugged around, the hat low.

Olivia's mouth twisted at that. To her, Katarina's behavior was incomprehensible. Why eschew the bed in favor of the floor? Why abandon the thick, pillowy quilts for a leather coat? It made no sense at all to her.

She let out a breath, and slipping on a robe that was originally intended for the Witch Hunter, stepped out into the large sitting room, and summoned one of the maids from the Maid's Quarter. A Lady should sleep in a bed, that's all there was to it.

Olivia awoke some time later in the early morning and rolled out of bed they shared. Katarina was a delight to look at, Olivia mused, as she filled her eyes as she dressed quietly.

Olivia was tugging on her stockings when it came to her. It came in a moment, a brilliant ray of inspiration she attributed to the Golden Lady.

Katarina was an intensely suspicious person, and would scrutinize everything she did, searching for a pretext, a hidden justification. Olivia suspected she could give Katarina a pie, only to watch as the woman dismantled it, searching for knives or poison, and finding nothing, indifferently throw the pie away.

She didn't want to have that sort of relationship with the Witch Hunter, where everything she did was constantly scrutinized and picked apart, looking for secret plots and dark motivations. Oh, she wanted a lot from the Witch Hunter, but she'd settle with a relationship built on mutual trust and respect. To start with, of course. The rest could come later.

So, the first order of business- how to get the Witch Hunter to like and trust her enough that they could start building a rapport? And the answer came to her, clear as day: Shared hardship.

If they endured some sort of small crisis together, something non-threatening but woefully inconvenient, then they'd have common ground, a shared experience. She knew just how to do it, too.

Lady Olivia was known for her dalliances with other women, sometimes taking two or three of her maids to bed with her, but now she was wholly captivated with Katarina. Katarina was absolutely gorgeous in her eyes, with hair that hung past her hips, green eyes, expansive bust, and her own indomitable inner strength.

Up until now, Olivia had only pillowed with those of lesser stature, acolytes or maids, people who were incapable of resisting because of her status. Katarina was something different entirely. Katarina was possessed of an intrinsic strength that was completely separate from Olivia's. Where Olivia's strength came from political connections, arrangements, and wealth, Katarina's came from her own will and strength.

Olivia was well and truly intimidated with Katarina's strength of character- the sheer gall she displayed, marching on the Grand Cardinal as she did! She was uncouth and seemed to display very little sense of self, thinking of herself as a weapon- Olivia shivered at that- and she only thought of doing her duty.

Olivia stood for a moment, eyeing the sleeping figure. Strange. Olivia's mind had kept replaying Constances' assassination while she slept; now she didn't want to think about it at all. The implications were too severe, too far-reaching. Just what had that thing been up to? Was it really Constance, or had that thing killed the original Constance at some point and assumed her form? Were there more of them, hiding in plain sight, masquerading as people of importance? She shuddered at those thoughts and desperately tried to keep them at bay. Fortunately, eyeing Katarina's sleeping form was an excellent distraction. The woman was simply gorgeous.

Was Katarina's duty to the Church or was it to the Golden Lady? Katarina didn't seem to like the church at all. The reports on her worship habits were sparse. She rarely came into a church or temple to pray or give offerings or receive blessings., only staying long enough to turn in bounties and collect assignments.

Where then was her devotion? Olivia blinked. Was it her duty that she devoted herself to?

Unbidden, the Grand Cardinal's words came to mind, and she was remanded to Olivia's care. Did the Grand Cardinal know she would desire Katarina? That she would want to seduce her as strongly as she did?

She shook her head. Boxes within boxes, plots within plots.

She stepped out of the Witch Hunter's apartments and returned to her own. As she strode down the corridor, she debated simply moving Katarina into her own quarters.

It would make things so much simpler. She chuckled and shook her head. She wasn't sure how Katarina would react, and it wouldn't be prudent to press her. Katarina was inherently suspicious and relentlessly scrutinized everything Olivia did.

Besides, she had weeks to open her up. She shouldn't be hasty. The Church did not frown on any particular type of relationship as long as it was consensual. If Katarina could be induced to ravish her, she would consent. Oh, how she would consent.

She heard one of the maids discussing a symphony that night, and pressed the woman to gain tickets for her and her charge. She also checked on the status of Katarina's clothes. She'd had the woman measured only last night, but she had an army of tailors and seamstresses under her employ, and so Katarina would have a variety of dresses waiting for her when she woke up. Olivia couldn't wait. But before that, she had so much to do.

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Katarina woke some hours later, finding Olivia gone. She eyed the bed around her; how had she gotten back into it? Hadn't she gotten up in the middle of the night and slept in the corner? She scooted to the edge of the bed and dangled her feet off the side.

Olivia was strange. Certainly nothing like she expected a high-ranking member of the church to behave. Surprisingly affectionate and flirtatious, with a sense of humor. So many questions.

A tap at the door startled her, followed by a maid entering.

"Good morning, milady. I have a note here from Her Highness the Lady Cardinal Olivia. You're to break your fast with the Book and Her Grace, after which you'll attend to the stables for your lessons."

Katarina sighed and slid off the end of the bed. Where were her pants? She glanced around, and looked to the dressing cabinet.

She pulled out a loose blouse from the cabinets. She buttoned it quickly, and went rooting around in the dressers for her pants when the maid coughed discreetly.

"My Lady?" she asked, and Katarina turned. "What is it?"

"The Lady Cardinal has sent me to ensure that you dress properly." she remarked primly.

Katarina grimaced at this. Dress properly? She'd dress as a Witch Hunter. Properly.

"Fine. Where are my pants?"

The maid blinked dark eyes in surprise. "I... excuse me?"

Katarina grimaced. "Pants."

The maid pointed to the mammoth closet. "There are plenty of dresses, milady, all of high quality and standard. They were made for you last night to your measurements."

Katarina shook her head. "Pants. I have neither the desire or need for a dress, girl. I am a Witch Hunter in the Golden Lady's service and I do not want or desire dresses."

The maid was unruffled. "The Lady Cardinal has requested formal attire, my lady." She stated primly, eyes closed, hands folded at her waist. There was a certain stubbornness to her deference that grated on Katarina and her temper flared.

"Did you not listen to me, girl? I already said-"

Olivia swept into the quarters, an attractive woman with a maturity to her. Rich black hair tumbled about her shoulders and fell nearly to her waist.

"Oh, do give over, dear. The maid is but a messenger." She announced melodiously, patting the young girl on the head.

"And still, you don't knock!" Katarina yelled, her anger hot and free.

The Lady Cardinal's attire was as rich and luxurious as the furnishings of the room, all maroon and thread of gold slashed with white, and although she wore no jewelry she bore an air of regal nobility. She smirked at Katarina.

Katarina marched up to her, undaunted. "Why am I required to wear a dress?"

The woman smiled happily. "We will not be hunting Witches at breakfast, Lady Katarina." She replied with a gesture. "Instead, we will be hunting the delicious melon, or perhaps a bit of succulent ham."

She gave a hint of a curtsy and smiled, eyes twinkling. "I know you are as unruly and fractious as a child, but I hoped that you had softened a bit since dinner last night."

She eyed Katarina speculatively, one hand on her hip, tapping the fingers of the other hand against the side of her mouth in a thoughtful pose. "Still, I came today, and will come every day as necessary to insure your obedience. I am your ally and more, but do not think me weak. If you aren't in a dress in fifteen minutes, I'll have you serving a public penance."

Katarina stood up straight, glowering. She was taller than the Cardinal by a head, and physically she could best the woman with her own strength, but the woman wore her authority as comfortably as she wore her robes and held her ground with an amused smile.

Patience with this one. The voice popped into Katarina's head without preamble, and Katarina froze for a moment, anticipating the pain that came with such things.

"If you come to breakfast, willingly and without resistance, I'll see to it that you're unmolested for the rest of the day- giving you freedom to train with your drake. The longer you train per day, the sooner you can leave, correct?"

She pushed past Katarina to the closet and disappeared inside. "I understand your sense of urgency. I remind you though: if you can master your drake within the time allotted, you can fly out of here. A little obedience will go a long way. Makes sense, no?"

She selected a dress and came out of the closet, moved in front of Katarina and held it against Katarina's chest and eyed it critically. "Too dark. We need something that will match your hair." She tossed the dress indifferently on the bed, disappeared into the closet and came back with a white and green dress, chased in gold embroidery. "Perfect."

Her eyes cut to Katarina's face, and her face grew serious. "For today, I'll say this: follow my orders and I'll be on your side. Resist, and I'll make sure you never leave the city again."

Katarina blew out a breath. "And what do you gain from this, Cardinal?" She questioned as she grudgingly doffed her blouse and reached for the dress.

Olivia laughed delightedly. "Me? I get the company of the single most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on." She snatched the dress from Katarina's grip.

"You need a bustier with this dress, or you'll upset the sensibilities of everyone within a five mile radius." She reached out and bobbed Katarina's breasts up and down. "Can't have these swinging freely, dear."

"You're awfully free with your hands." Katarina glowered, and Olivia laughed. "Of course, dear. Martin Bettencourt's 'Wildflowers in Bloom' is meant to be admired, and your bust was definitely meant to be fondled." She remarked, and laughed again. "Who knows, maybe it'll help my own." She patted her chest for emphasis.

Katarina snorted dryly, and allowed the maid to fit a bustier on her. Olivia surprised the maid and took over for her, tightening the laces herself.

"Not too tight? Can't have you passing out on us, my lovely lady." She asked, and Katarina shook her head.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"A little. It's tight across the top." She gestured where her breasts bulged appreciably. Olivia licked her lips hungrily, but smiled. "It's supposed to be like that. A little emphasis up top is just what we need."

She stepped closer and ran her hand down Katarina's hip. "We definitely need to get you some bottoms, and soon, or I may swoon at the thought of your bare bottom at breakfast."

She stepped back. "Stockings first, I think." She waved to the maid who had been quietly listening and perhaps storing up a wealth of gossip for later. "Let's keep things simple for now. We'll go with a white set of stockings, with belt." The maid moved into the closet and came out with a pair of stockings.

"Of course, I'm sure you've never worn the like before, have you?" She asked Katarina, who shook her head. Olivia smiled a hungry smile. "Then there's no helping it, I will have to help you put these on, too."

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Breakfast was a disaster. The dining hall was huge, lavish with ornate wall relief carvings, and even an ostentatious fountain with a statue of the Kneeling Woman surrounded by water-spouting cherubs.

Everyone was eyeing Katarina as she came in and remarked to each other in low tones. As far as anyone was concerned, there had never been anyone that had come to the hall armed. She wore her customary sword and gun across the hips of her dress, despite Olivia's protestations. Katarina stolidly ignored their glances and whispers, but as the meal wore on, she began to grow more curt, more impatient. At the rate they seemed to be dining, they would not finish before lunch.

Just as she was about to demand to be excused, one of the Lady Cardinals, Gabrielle, leaned towards her. "I will be giving you your first lessons starting tomorrow, Katarina. I expect nothing less than a prompt arrival at my apartments at the seventh chime in the morning." She glanced at Olivia. "You can ensure this?" She asked pointedly, and Olivia nodded. "Certainly."

Olivia leaned into her, pressing her bosom against Katarina's arm. "We really should not have kept you here so long. Go back to your apartments and change into your travelling clothes, and join Master Loric in the West Stable to begin your training." She murmured.

Katarina nodded and moved to get up again.

"One more thing, darling. There is a symphony tonight. I would be both delighted and honored if you would accompany me."

The Grand Cardinal perked up.

"A symphony? I had not heard. Perhaps I will accompany the two of you."

Olivia nodded. "Of course, Your Grace."

Katarina was looking forward to getting into the air, but instead the drake handler had her memorizing how to take on and off the complicated saddle on a wooden dummy, how and where to place saddlebags, and then finally introducing her to her new mount.

The drake's body was perhaps a bit longer than a horse, but with a significantly longer neck, a pair of wings and a long, sinuous tail.

"It's customary for the new Master of the Drake to anoint her with a new name." Loric mentioned. "You should think on it while you train. Perhaps it will come to you."

Katarina thought for a moment and smiled at the drake. "I know exactly what you should be called, you magnificent creature." The drake dipped her head, and Katarina rubbed the top of her head. "You shall be Marcela."

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The concert was a win for Olivia. The concert was of the type that she didn't particularly enjoy, but Katarina was captivated, and because Olivia was captivated with Katarina, she chose to remain. The Grand Lady left almost straightaway, a frown of disapproval on her face.

The concert was of the newer kind that had started growing in popularity with the younger crowd. They were often impromptu, did not follow the standard rules of orchestral concerts, and were often shorter and louder than the type that was favored.

A long row of young men, chests bare and oiled, stood behind a row of large, heavy drums. There was an orchestral pit of a sort, but there were only a few rows of instrumentalists.

As the lights dimmed, one woman began with a simple yet evocative flute piece. As the last note trailed off, the drums began in earnest. The beat was bold, hard, and heavy. It slammed into Katarina's chest and left her gasping.

As one, the violinists stood and joined with a high, sweet melody that was counterpointed by the heavy drums. A choir of young women joined the fray, shouting in time to the drums.

Katarina was delighted, enthralled. The beat slammed into her chest over and over with an aggressive, martial beat, the violins and the choir counterpointing with a heart-catching melody that wound on and on and left her breathless and captivated. Olivia offered Katarina some wine, which she casually gulped down.

Olivia's mouth twisted wryly. She truly had no sense of delicacy. She leaned towards the other woman during the intermission. "Katarina darling, it's customary to sip wine, not gulp it." She smiled warmly at her. "It's a sensual experience. Let your eyes drink in its color. Is it a darker red towards the base of the glass? When you swirl, does the color change? Smell the wine after you swirl. Is it fruity? Can you smell spring flowers freshly opened? Perhaps it's a deep, woody smell, like oak, fragrant cedar. Savor the taste, the texture as it goes over the tongue. Revel in the flavor of the wine. Did the wine feel good when it landed on your palate? Was the wine smooth, silky, velvet like and lush in texture? Each swallow brings us closer to the answer and yet only takes us further away, down the path of enjoyment."

Katarina cocked an eyebrow at her, expecting a joke, but Olivia was serious.

They were both very drunk and giggling when Olivia led her into her own quarters. "Stay the night with me." She pressed, and Katarina didn't refuse. When they climbed into bed together, Olivia tangled her hair in her hands and kissed her over and over again.

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Katarina opened her eyes, and found she was laying in a field. A vast field, carpeted in lilies as far as the eye could see, in every direction. There were no landmarks, the sky was limitless and vast and blue and brilliant as the midday and yet at the same time, there was no sign of a sun to orient herself. She blinked. Was this a dream? It felt vaguely familiar, and yet retained the ephemeral quality of a dream. She flexed her hand, could feel her fingers flex, the tendons in her hand moving. She could feel the soft soil that she lay on, warm, dry and crumbly, rich and dark. It felt so real, and yet she knew that it wasn't. In this blank, expressionless void of a field, there was nothing to anchor her in reality.

She rolled to her feet and stood, turning around, feeling the bones and tendons move in her body as she did so. At the same time there was a vague sensation remaining as if she was still in bed, the Lady Cardinal drooling on her shoulder. The disconnection was jarring, the sensation of the bed on her skin and the vast nothing that stretched out before her, endless flowers and implacable sky. "Where am I?" she asked, struggling to come to grips with her situation.

Unbidden, a voice spoke next to Katarina, a voice from memory.

"What is a choice without choices, Katarina? A choice with no choices is no choice at all. Can a decision even be made? It's not wrong to wander about in a field of flowers, you know."

She turned, half-expecting to see the young Yamato diviner next to her. Instead, only endless fields, carpeted with lilies.

She now stood on a hard-packed dirt road that seemingly stretched out from one horizon to the other, ruler-straight. To either side, endless fields of lilies, green and lily-white, here and there a splotch of dark, rich earth beneath. Katarina usually had a fair sense of direction, and could invariably find north on her own without help, but here, wherever she was, there was no sense of direction from the compass in her head.

She halfway raised her hands and let them fall. "Where the fuck is this?" She complained, exasperated.

A woman suddenly stood to her left, She was young and yet ageless, her eyes a comfortable and yet disconcertingly vibrant green. The woman turned towards Katarina at the same time that Katarina turned to face her. Katarina towered over the waiflike girl, who was of a height and build with Sasaki.

The woman's hair flowed down her shoulders and tumbled down her back in heavy, slow waves of amber and honey. As she smiled warmly up at Katarina, Katarina felt a sense of shock and discomfort at her inability to name her. She was so familiar.

She wore a form-fitting set of plate armor of a creamy opalescent white metal. It was heavily and ornately decorated with gold swirls, scrollwork, crimson lacquer and sacred insignia. It didn't look the type of armor to be worn in combat, it was beautiful and decorative.

A long sword was belted at her waist, the blade an impossibly slender, delicate thing with gold filigree down the scabbard in baroque patterns. In her hand she held a spear with a blade as long and as broad as any sword. It flashed and glimmered in the light, looking hungry and ready for the battlefield.

"Alicia." Katarina breathed, recognizing her from her previous vision. The young woman inclined her head gravely in greeting, but her eyes danced with the mischief and delight that Katarina's ancestor had captured so eloquently in her diary of the martyr.

The smaller woman gestured down the road and started walking without looking back, expecting Katarina to follow with simple confidence. After a moment Katarina's mouth twisted irritably and she followed after, her boots kicking little clouds of dust from the packed-earth road.

"I stood against the Church too, you know." Alicia remarked to Katarina matter-of-factly as the taller woman caught up, and then laughed freely. "I never cared one whit for the Church. I had Inanna in my breast, I had Anastasija by my side, Rhom in my hands, and endless wars in front of me."

Katarina shied from Alicia's casual naming of the Golden Lady, even in her dream.

"All I wanted was to fight with Anastasija by my side. War in the morning, a pint, a man, and Anastasija in the evening, and do it all again the next day." She moaned. "Anastasija was so stubborn and contrary I was sure, but..." She paused. "I went ahead of her."

"I had all I wanted, but the Church was corrupt. Back then men were in charge." Alicia explained as they strolled down the endless road. Katarina nodded. "Lord Cardinal Verona sentenced me to die, but I knew he would months before he did." Katarina glanced at the smaller woman in confusion.

"Being a Saint isn't something the Church decides, Katarina. It's between you and Inanna. She chooses you, and you choose her." She paused. "It took the Church two hundred years to name me a saint, but the Goddess chose me when I was but thirteen." She shook her head at the absurdity of it all.

"How can you name Her so casually?" Katarina asked finally. Alicia burst into laughter.

"The proscription against naming Her is a thing of the church, not of Her." Alicia replied with an ostentatious eyeroll after her laughter tapered off, causing Katarina to recoil with confusion.

"I've never cared for what the church decides." Alicia repeated, and then stepped in front of the Witch Hunter. "That doesn't mean I name her casually. I speak it respectfully. I speak it with love. You can do the same, if you like. She loves you just the same."

"So the Church ... was there a civil war?" Katarina asked. Alicia gave her a baffled look. "How am I supposed to know?" She asked guilelessly. "I was dead when it happened. But now women hold all the authority in the Church." She rolled her eyes again. "As if women could not be as morally bankrupt as men." She sighed, fists on her hips. "Or worse." She added in a regretful tone. "If you saw some of the fights Anastasija and I had, you'd elect whatever man you could find to the office of Grand Cardinal."

Katarina barked a laugh at that, and Alicia joined her.

"Isn't it about time you told me why you're in my dreams, Alicia?" Katarina asked, and Alicia laughed again. "I already have, Katarina." She replied.

The voice echoed in Katarina's mind as she stared at the canopied ceiling of the bed, a reminder of her dream. Perhaps it was a vision? She couldn't recall having visions or dreams before her visit to Aston and the Diviner, Araya.

There were some that were called to the clergy because they had visions. She was not one of them, she had not experienced any of what the church called "Mysterium Fidei"; mysteries of faith that could only come from the Divine goddess Herself.

The main reason she had been called to serve the Golden Lady had been her ability to resist magical influence practically from birth, not any ability to have visions, and yet it was those visions that had led her from the lands of her birth across the seas to the ancient lands of Rothgar, in pursuit of forgotten, sacred relics.

She curled in on herself, hugging herself tightly. She wasn't stupid, she knew what was coming. Part of her was comfortable, relaxed, accepting of the inevitable, but was a very small part, where the rest of her quailed in fear and terror with an irrational desire to run and hide, burrow beneath the soil and wait for the horror of inevitability so somehow pass her by.

She cried, face buried in the pillow she clutched with panicky tightness. A warm hand gently rubbed her back. Olivia soothed the other woman the best she could, rubbing her back and speaking in a low whisper. Eventually the Witch Hunter relaxed as sleep took her again.

As Katarina awoke a second time, Olivia mumbled and buried her face in Katarina's chest. "Tell me it's not morning." She groaned.

Katarina blinked and glanced about carefully. "It seems to be that way." she whispered. Her throat was raw, her voice husky. She swallowed a few times. Had she cried during the night?

Olivia pressed herself against Katarina. "I was hoping you would lie to me. My head hurts so."

Katarina rubbed her own head. It throbbed too. She blinked. Had she dreamed something? She couldn't remember over the dull pounding of her head and the aching in her throat. It seemed important that she remember, but she couldn't remember what it was she was supposed to remember.

Katarina started to pull herself upright, but Olivia reached over and pulled her back down and kissed her. "Don't. Don't go. Let's lay here in bed and promise to each other we will not drink so much wine again. Let's promise each other until our heads stop hurting." Katarina reluctantly relaxed.

"I can agree with that." she whispered.

Olivia suddenly jolted and sat up herself, and then clutched her head as sickening waves of pain lurched through her skull. She groaned and swayed. "Oh, Goddess, that hurts so much." She moaned. "I mustn't throw up." she declared alarmingly, but seemed to fight the urge. "That's the first and last time I drink so much. One bottle is enough; five... no, six? Seven?" She waved her hand. "Too much."

Gradually the pain seemed to clear. She looked down at Katarina's tousled hair and green eyes which regarded her calmly. Olivia reached out as if to touch the Witch Hunter's face.

"I've done something unforgivable, Katarina." She remarked sadly. "I seduced you last night."

She smiled a little, hand toying with Katarina's hair. "I'll say it openly, my dear: I've wanted to make love to you since the first moment I saw you, but I never wanted to get you drunk to do it." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I've taken advantage. I'll take any penance you want, public or private, I don't care, I just want you to forgive me."

Katarina herself couldn't remember much of last night. The end of the concert itself was a blurry smear, and everything afterword was a hazy mess of incomprehensibility. Had she been seduced? She could remember Olivia kissing her lips, neck, and breasts at some point.

Katarina didn't particularly object one way or another. She thought the other woman attractive enough, though she still regarded the Lady Cardinal with suspicion. Plus, the question of intimacy was simply never present as her responsibility kept her busy. There was always the next town, the next witch.

She relayed this to Olivia, who smiled wanly. "Katarina, my dear, my lovely, my sweet, there is nothing wrong with how you feel, but I do want you to consider that there is more that you can do to serve the Golden Lady than simply your duty."

That struck a chord within Katarina, and she nodded. She'd learned that lesson well.

"You follow the Golden Lady." Olivia began, running her hands up and down the sides of Katarina's breasts. Katarina nodded and then winced at the augur of pain that spiked between her brows.

"The Golden Lady has many facets, my dear, one of which is spring, fertility, love, kindness and compassion. Because of your career, you recognize her militaristic side: justice, defense of the weak, vengeance. But if you are truly called to serve the Goddess, should you not allow yourself the liberty to experience all she has blessed us with?"

Olivia felt dirty saying this. It felt cheap and something like what a priest might say to a young acolyte he was wishing to seduce. She hadn't wanted to say it to Katarina. Even though it felt cheap, there was a grain of truth to it.

"I do not know, My Lady." Katarina whispered. "It is something to think about."

Olivia agreed. "You may also think of the Church in the same way." She forwarded. "both kind and affectionate, stern and unforgiving, perhaps slow moving and ponderous. Many-faceted."

Olivia blinked and ran her finger over the scar on Katarina's collarbone. Her memory must be deceiving her. It couldn't have gotten smaller. Olivia took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"My dear, I think we need to get some medicine for our heads, some food in our bellies, and perhaps a hot bath."

They carefully climbed out of bed, Olivia giving Katarina a playful pinch on the butt.

"Bath first, I think." Katarina agreed. Olivia summoned her servants and gave detailed commands, and then retreated to the bath with Katarina.

They were in the bath together and Olivia's eyes widened as she soaped and lathered Katarina's body. She had changed. A lot of the smaller scars had disappeared entirely. The one in Katarina's shoulder had faded and shrank. Her lustrous hair seemed to have gained more gold overnight.

Suddenly feeling insignificant and anxious, Olivia slipped her arms around the taller woman and embraced her tightly, a heavy feeling of dread on her heart. Katarina responded, holding the smaller woman closer, but when Olivia kissed her, Katarina pulled away.

Olivia's heart jumped in her chest unhappily, but she couldn't change what she had done, so she accepted it.

They were in the bath when the lights went out. Olivia knew it would happen, so she wasn't wholly caught unprepared, but she still jolted in the tub next to Katarina when the room was plunged into darkness. There was a horrific booming crash outside the bathroom door.

That would be the armoire getting tipped over in front of the bathroom door. Olivia thought to herself. The two of them would be blocked in the bathroom for a little while, and then her maids would "find them" and let them out. All according to plan. Or that's how it was supposed to go.