"Log, PF plus ten Tellurian days. Lieutenant Seward reporting in.

"I didn't ask for this, all right? I'm not a revolutionary. I know not everybody wants freedom, but those who want it, shouldn't they at least have the chance to claim it? Plus, if you listened to the Marxians and the ceilarchs, it wasn't like anybody was going to miss the Americanists or the Christians or the Jews.

"Well, now we're out of food, and they seem ready to lynch me."

--Recording recovered from Site Resh, reconstructed 1887 CE (restricted access)

----

22 Tumbling Blooming, 1886 CE

Libraratory Chirurgery, Acerbia

"They're not even letting me out of bed, Piotr," Senrii grumbled. "Can you believe that?"

The black-skinned Tutela said nothing, but at least he was there. Sure, she'd talked with Dorsin and Oralie earlier today, but it wasn't the same when you were in a shouting match with your parents.

"Look. I'm healed, right? I can go. Yeah."

Piotr shook his head. Even that small motion made the chair creak beneath him. He was supposed to be standing guard at the door. Senrii was glad he was in here with her, treating her like a person rather than an objective to be protected. Or a prisoner to be kept. "Worth a shot," she muttered.

She decided to amuse herself by staring at Piotr's face. She could see the angles of the armor plates beneath his cheeks, the way they met up at his temples to link with his skull plate, the enhanced nose...

"Ductrix?" Piotr asked.

Senrii shrugged, and sank deeper into the bed. "Just thinking you'd look nicer with hair."

He looked surprised she'd said it. Blood, bones, and bile; Senrii was surprised she'd said it herself. And was that embarrassment on Piotr's face? "Oh."

"Look, Piotr." She grabbed for his arm. "You need to talk to my mom and my dad. I can do my job." She felt heat rising within her; her own parents thought she was incompetent. "I need out of this room," she whispered.

"It would not be my place, Era." Piotr removed her hand.

"Why not? You're my dad's best friend. He trusts you. He listens to you. Piotr, you know I'm rotting in here, right? You know I belong out there, right? Blood, Piotr, you believe in me, don't you?"

"Era," Piotr said.

Senrii's heart pounded. Why would it do that? Why was she so caught up in imagining what his next words were going to be?

Piotr leaned in. He looked almost guilty, like he was sharing a secret he shouldn't. "Era, your father is preoccupied. He is convinced that Gens Nxtlu means us harm."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Of course they do. They always do. We've been stabbing them in the faces and they've been stabbing us in the back for four hundred years."

"And now one of them lives among us, Era," Piotr said. "She has access to a wealth of previously-unknown data about the Last Era, all because the princeps allowed it."

"Right." Senrii huffed. "Because his favorite hussy asked him for it."

"Be kinder toward your father," Piotr chided her. "He loves the Ambassatrix."

"Oh, this is rich." Senrii laughed. "That makes it okay? The New Pullmas Inferno, bankrupting our family, all because she's a good lay...and then just because she asks, he lets our worst enemies into our Duchy and goes super-protective like a paranoiac and then takes it out on me?"

"No," Piotr said. "No. That doesn't make it okay."

Senrii blinked.

"Your father loves your mother, and he took an oath to her," Piotr said. The man looked almost abashed to be speaking this way. Senrii had never seen that before, but she managed to bite down a witty comment and let Piotr speak. "That comes before everything else. There is no excuse for what he did. But Senrii, while we are not Gens Rurik, believing that every choice of a man is determined by his biology, neither are we Gens Ithamar, believing that man's emotions are an error in evolution. We cannot always control whom we love. Not even if we love two, when we should only love one.

"I am certain, without question, that your father has been entirely faithful to your mother since he married her. For a man with a beautiful willing woman waiting, that is an incredible feat. It's worthy, I daresay, of the General Principles of Gens Nethress."

"What about you?" Senrii asked. "You ever had it?"

Piotr smiled. It was nice to see on his somber black face. "A willing woman?"

"Love," Senrii said.

Piotr breathed deeply and looked away. "Perhaps, Era. Perhaps."

That was all he said.

"Look at me, killing the party." Senrii tugged Piotr's arm. "Hey. Piotr. Two things."

"I live to serve, Era."

"First thing, call me Senrii, all right? At least when we're alone."

He gazed at her with gleaming onyx eyes that she couldn't read.

"And second..." Senrii spoke quietly and pulled Piotr down over the bed as if she meant to whisper something in his ear.

What she actually meant to do was bite his neck and inject a knockout venom, because she wasn't going to stay in this bed for a single second longer. She had stuff to do.

Unfortunately, he leaned over more quickly than she'd expected, and her mouth pressed against his armored cheek. It was... warm. Warm, and also forgebone-hard beneath the skin. She retracted her extended canines before they could bump against the bone armor and give away her botched attempt.

But that still left her kissing his cheek, and she didn't realize that she was holding that position and enjoying it until he'd pulled away. Bile. Senrii had lost her chance.

And she didn't mind it so much.

"I did not expect that," Piotr admitted, his eyes glittering.

"Yeah, me neither," Senrii muttered.

"And I do not appreciate being manipulated, Era." He rose from his seat. "My heart is not a handle."

"I wasn't manipulating you. Piotr! Look, don't walk out."

He paused at the door. "Is that a command, Era Ductrix? Or a request, Senrii?"

Bile. If Senrii gave the wrong answer, it would ruin...anything. Everything. She licked her lips, thought quickly. "A request. From Senrii. For Piotr."

She watched, holding her breath, as Piotr hovered at the door.

He hung his head, turned, and came back to the bedside.

"Piotr," Senrii said, "please, get me out of here. Even if it's just for a few minutes. Blood, bone, and bile. I need to walk, Piotr. I need to see something other than the inside of this cell."

Senrii read the conflict in Piotr's posture. At last he asked, "Do I have your word you won't run off?"

"I'm your captive." Senrii presented her wrists. "Bind me up."

Was it possible for pitch-black skin to flush? Because Senrii was pretty sure that Piotr did. "That won't be necessary, Era--I mean, Senrii. If you give me your word, I trust you."

Well, bile. He did trust her. Now how was Senrii supposed to break her word?