They set off early the next morning. With the clouds becoming heavier, a storm was inevitable and, if possible, they wished to reach the capital and wait for it to pass there. So they kept up a good pace, passing through a couple of villages before stopping at a town for lunch. Although ominous, the gloomy weather kept the midday cool enough that they could leave earlier than usual.

However, the extra travelling made Julie extra nervous when it came to the horses, coming to a stop if either one so much as sniffled. Whether no issues arose because of her attentiveness or regardless of it, they made good progress come dusk.

The town they arrived at was only half a day’s travel from the capital, which resulted in a lot of gentrification. For nobles of limited means, a spacious townhouse here was a fraction of the cost; for nobles of modest means, a townhouse here could be rented out to merchants who wished to try and move up in the world. That presence of money, whether old or new, affected the economy of the town. Workshops sprang up at the start of the social season to fulfil the extravagant needs, and the population swelled with maids and footmen, only to close down and disperse as the events in the capital wound down by winter.

Currently the height of summer, the town bustled. It took them a lot of wandering to find a place for the night. At this time of year, most of the lodgings were full of seasonal workers, few places even offering rooms for less than a month.

The place in question was in fact not an inn. Rather, a middle-aged woman—Mrs Fletcher—took pity on them, seeing them be turned away. But it was as much an offer of selfishness, her husband a butler and children a mix of domestic workers and craftsmen, all of them off in the capital; she was lucky to see her husband once a week, children twice a year. Still, the hard work of many years showed in the comfortable house they owned, and she even had a skivvy to help.

Having herself worked in a count’s townhouse in her younger years, she picked up on Sammy’s good bearing quickly. Mistaking Sammy (and indirectly Julie) as domestic servants looking for jobs, she asked over supper, “Heading to the capital to look for work?”

Julie left Sammy to answer, not particularly great with small talk herself.

“We are merely passing through at this time,” Sammy said, smiling.

“Ah, shame that is—I could put in a good word for you,” Mrs Fletcher said, head bobbing up and down as she spoke. “Mr Fletcher tells me, there aren’t the kind of help around like when we were young. Oh, he’d be happy with good girls like you, someone that won’t embarrass the mistress with a slouched back or vacant stare.”

Sammy laughed politely, covering her mouth. That feminine show of manners mildly surprised Julie. It was something expected of a princess, she knew, but Sammy had been rather free with her laughter the last few days.

“You know, I hear it is something of the fashion to have sloppy maids these days. What better way to show noble dignity than to contrast it?” Sammy said, her eyes full of mirth.

Mrs Fletcher vigorously nodded. “That might be it,” she said.

A frequent target of Sammy’s teasing, Julie understood that, rather than maids, the one being made fun of was Mrs Fletcher. It gave her a bit of a headache; if Sammy went too far and Mrs Fletcher realised, Julie really didn’t want to have to sleep in the stable with the horses. Well, she didn’t want Sammy to—it was bad enough making a princess sleep on lumpy beds.

When the meal finished, Julie felt relieved, thinking they could just retire. However, she should have known better.

“I’ll get the skivvy to show you up to your rooms,” Mrs Fletcher said before loudly calling out, “Jenny!”

“We only need the one room,” Sammy said.

Julie felt her heart stumble.

Mrs Fletcher gave Sammy a strange look and then said, “It’s no fuss, dear. There’s spare rooms and they’re kept good and clean, don’t you worry.”

Julie would have said something, wanted to say something, but she remembered she had told Sammy to be honest. So she braced herself, waiting for Sammy to say the words she knew were coming.

“We are lovers, madam; it is only natural we share a room,” Sammy said, smiling sweetly.

Mrs Fletcher gave her another long look, and Julie could see the middle-aged woman trying to mishear on purpose. “Really now, I know it’s scary in those dingy inns, but there’s nothing to worry about here—only me and Penny around. You just sleep easy,” she said.

Of course, Sammy disagreed, reaching over to take Julie’s hand. “We aren’t married yet, but we will be in the coming year. How could we sleep soundly without each other’s comfort?”

Julie rather pitied Mrs Fletcher, the poor woman having no idea the troublesome guest she had taken in. However, Julie had to admit that, although lying, Sammy had sounded convincing and reasonable.

Whatever response Mrs Fletcher was putting together fell apart with Penny’s arrival. The young girl, fourteen at most by Julie’s guess, looked exhausted, hands still wrinkled from washing plates. The pity Julie had for Mrs Fletcher dried up from the sight and in its place grew a seed of guilt.

“Show them to… upstairs,” Mrs Fletcher said, choosing her words carefully.

“Yes, mistress,” Penny said with a bow. Then she turned to the other two and said, “If the guests would allow me to lead them.” Reminded of Sammy’s earlier joke about sloppy maids, Julie had to hold back the chuckle that came from comparing Jenny and Mrs Fletcher.

So Jenny led them upstairs, the entire floor made of three bedrooms and a bathroom—what had once been the children’s quarters. The bedroom had two single beds on either side and a small wardrobe to go with each, as well as a chest of drawers in the middle; one room had a full-length mirror.

It took Jenny no convincing to let them carry their packs into the same bedroom. However, Julie asked Jenny to stay for a moment and tried to give her a couple of coins, only to be rebuffed.

Once Jenny had left, Sammy whispered to Julie, “What would Mrs Fletcher think if she found them?”

Julie said nothing.

The bathroom lived up to its name, giving Sammy the chance to properly bathe since they’d left. Although the water was a touch cold, that had its own charm with the high humidity, cutting through the mugginess of it all. As for Julie, she just appreciated that she could wipe herself down with clean water.

Their long day of travelling catching up with them, they did nothing more than change and say goodnight, but their gazes lingered on each other. There was something a bit novel about being at the same height. Julie soon gave in, though, and Sammy watched those slow blinks end, Julie’s breathing changing shortly after. With a smile, Sammy rolled onto her back and closed her eyes.

Earlier the next morning, they readied themselves and left before Mrs Fletcher had even stirred, asking Jenny to pass on their thanks. Clouds black and gusts strong, they dared not waste a second.

Many others had similar thoughts, but their nimble party of just two horses could negotiate the busy road with ease, and Julie had to admit that Sammy’s instincts massively helped as she weaved between the traffic. If not for that, the heavy droplets that started to fall when they reached the toll would have soaked them half to death. As it was, they paid to enter the capital and found shelter at a nearby stables, only a little damp.

With no pressing need to be anywhere, they kept out the way and watched the city scenery. Despite the rain, people dashed about under umbrellas or whatever else they could use as cover, carriages trundling to and fro, the sounds of sellers only muffled by the rain, not silenced. The rain itself fell heavily, a pleasant noise that soothed them after such a hectic morning.

Before they had even started making a plan, they were interrupted, a carriage coming to a stop a little away from them. In the window, a face familiar to Sammy appeared.

The lady inside didn’t step out, but a servant did, the young woman coming over with an umbrella. “If you would speak with milady,” she softly said.

Julie stayed back as Sammy went over, but she was near enough to hear the exchange.

“Greetings, Lady Mary,” Sammy said.

“Greetings….”

“Lady Sammy will do,” Sammy said, her tone light.

Mary made a complicated expression. “Greetings, Lady Sammy. I thought I might have caught sight of you, yet I cannot understand this… situation,” she said carefully.

“Well, my situation as of now is that I am in need of lodgings until the rain lightens. Would you be interested?”

Eyes narrowed, Mary said, “You can have a guest room—I shan’t be sharing my bed.”

Sammy laughed, covering her mouth. “Oh my, I would not ask that of you,” she said.

Mary looked doubtful.

So Sammy and Julie joined her in the carriage, packs and all, while the maid attending to Mary went back to the townhouse by foot. Julie felt a pang of guilt about that, but she understood that what they would be discussing really wasn’t something that a maid could hear.

Mindful of her status, Julie sat in the corner, trying to disappear. That was somewhat rendered moot by Sammy’s insistence on holding hands.

Sammy broke the silence once they were moving, saying, “My parents intended to have me marry, so I have eloped with my lover.”

Stimulated by such a statement, Mary couldn’t help herself and her thoughts slipped out. “Even though he is rather soft-looking, at least you have grown up,” she said; the moment she finished, she stiffened up and carefully watched for the Princess’s reaction.

Sammy smiled. “She is a lot tougher than she looks,” she said.

That gave Mary enough of a surprise that she took another look. At a glance, Julie, in her trousers and shirt—casual wear issued by the garrison—and with her short hair, gave a boyish impression. Her build as well matched a boy in his early teens, one who did a little work around the house but had yet to take up manual labour. It was only when Mary saw the soft face that she truly believed the Princess’s words.

She swallowed her embarrassment, composure a practised skill. “I suppose you will be sharing a room,” she said, her smile forced.

“Oh we share everything,” Sammy replied.

“I see,” Mary said.

For her part in all this, Julie turned back to look out the window, rosy cheeks her new normal.

Over the rest of the short trip, Sammy coaxed a conversation out of Mary as they discussed gossip. With so many families mixing in the capital, there was no shortage of heated gazes across ballrooms and illicit hand-holding, never mind young ladies showing some ankle while under the influence. Julie followed their chatter with disinterest—she couldn’t help but listen whenever Sammy spoke, regardless of how inane what she said was.

When they arrived, Mary went first to confirm her parents hadn’t returned early. The coast clear, she welcomed them into the house. If the butler had any reservations with their presence, they quickly disappeared, Sammy holding herself with dignity far greater than her clothes suggested and he took note of how Mary addressed the guest.

The first order of business was showing them to a guest room, and it certainly was a room and a half. A grand bed stretched wide enough to comfortably fit three, a canopy over the top and curtains on all sides of thick velvet. As well as that, the expected wardrobe and chest of drawers was joined by a dining set: a small table with two chairs. All the furniture shone, dark wood well polished, detailed with engravings and, in the case of the chairs, upholstered in a fine red velvet. The similarly dark wooden floor hid beneath exotic rugs, and the white walls were decorated with simple yet elegant paintings, some still lifes and others countryside landscapes. Through a door to the side, an en suite bathroom added to the opulence. Every inch of porcelain gleamed, copper taps glowed, tiles shimmered.

While Sammy felt right at home, Julie was at a loss until Sammy dragged her over to their packs (brought it by a lanky footman). “We should have our clothes washed since we have the chance,” she said, making a pile of her soiled clothes.

Julie agreed, not easy to find the time to leave clothes to dry when travelling. That said, she had to get over her mild discomfort, not quite as unfazed as Sammy when it came to piling up worn undergarments.

In the silence that followed, Julie’s thoughts drifted back to the conversation in the carriage. “Is it okay to lie to her like that?” she quietly asked.

Sammy hummed a note and then said, “I didn’t lie, though.”

“About your parents wanting you to marry,” Julie said.

Neither Sammy’s tone nor her posture changed when she spoke. “But they did. If not for the manifestation of the gods’ blessing, they would be arranging my engagement this moment, looking to have me married on my eighteenth birthday. Speaking honestly, this really is a blessing for them as my death will simplify matters. Being the Crown Princess, it is difficult to marry me to a prince since he would have to marry into my family, whereas my uncle is already married with children to a princess from Sonlettier. It is by far better to pass the crown to him than me.”

Julie had some knowledge of such things from hanging around the palace, yet to hear Sammy put it so concisely, emotionless, pained her. “Your parents surely want you to return safely,” she said, unable to contest any other part.

Giving an empty laugh, Sammy shook her head. “My mother struggled to conceive, so I certainly was a blessing at first. However, their joy soured, a queer child bringing only humiliation to them over the years. I cannot say what negative feelings they have for me, but they have no love. It would not surprise me if I am already struck from the line of succession.”

Left speechless, Julie bowed her head.

The maid who had shown them to the room soon returned, bringing a change of clothes for Sammy. Rather than another riding habit, it was a proper dress, delicate and silky. Sammy went through to the bathroom to wipe herself down and then changed.

When Sammy came back, Julie had to admit that she really was a princess, a pretty dress and clean face all she needed to be beautiful. “How do I look?” Sammy asked.

Confessing her thoughts, Julie said, “Like a princess.”

Sammy laughed and, after becoming conscious of it, Julie noticed how Sammy laughed freely with no one else in the room. That made her a bit happy, though she couldn’t explain why. She thought that it might have been because the earlier awkwardness was cleared up.

She then excused herself to clean up, and she discovered hot water from a tap was truly the greatest luxury in life, the experience far more pleasant and feeling much cleaner at the end. So enamoured, she even held a damp cloth to her face for a minute.

Upon her return to the bedroom, Sammy asked, “Enjoy yourself in there?”

Unable to suppress her smile, Julie nodded.

No one else interrupted them until lunchtime. Rather amusing to Sammy, the senior servants around the dining room seemed to be at ease now that the scruffy mutt their master had brought home was in fact a pure-bred.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

At the table, Mary had been intending to put on a bit of a show, misleading the servants as to who the guests actually were. However, she found herself to be something of an indoor umbrella as the other two didn’t so much as glance her way.

“Here, you would like this,” Sammy said, placing something on Julie’s plate.

“It looks too rich for me,” Julie murmured.

“If you have some on your fork with the mash, it blends nicely on the tongue,” Sammy said.

Trying not to look like she was doing it reluctantly, Julie gave in and had a taste. Her expression slowly went from slightly tense to happily surprised.

“See? I learn quickly and that includes your tastes,” Sammy said with a bit of a smug smile.

So Mary quietly ate while those two flirted their way through the meal and they even flirted over the tea that followed. Really, she was sure they would continue all day if left to it. Afraid of that, she gathered her will and pulled them to a private setting. Unsurprising to her, they practically sat on each other’s laps, holding hands.

“Are there certain questions you wish to ask?” Sammy asked with a knowing look.

Mary had come up with a few over the morning, but she felt herself now more interested in the questions the Princess hinted at. “Like what?” she asked, leaning a touch closer.

“Oh, I couldn’t say,” Sammy said, only to prove that a lie as she continued. “Perhaps you are curious how far Julie and I have gone? Or how it is that two women express their love?”

A moment of silence passed, and in it Mary and Julie competed to see who could be more embarrassed, both of them red-faced and unable to look anyone in the eye.

Mary let out a long breath. “No, I did not wish to ask about that,” she quietly said.

“Really? I thought for sure, what with how we read those books when younger,” Sammy said.

The insinuation lost on Julie, Mary took the lead as her embarrassment reached a whole new level. She felt genuine pain, as if every muscle in her body was cringing, and she covered her face in shame. “Please, stop,” she whispered—a most desperate plea.

Sammy held up a hand like it wasn’t a big deal. “I think it is only natural to be curious about such things, especially during the onset of puberty,” she said.

“Please,” Mary said again.

“I understand,” Sammy said, gently nodding. “Just, I do wish to say that Julie has been with me at my most intimate moments.”

For a moment, the other two couldn’t process what they’d heard, and then it all came crashing down. With how the Princess had led into it, Mary could only interpret such a statement in the lewdest manner. Yet Julie, despite knowing the truth, felt she couldn’t dare mention precisely which intimate moments she had accompanied Sammy for.

Meanwhile, Sammy sat there and thoroughly enjoyed their reactions, looking rather pleased with herself.

Mary soon recovered enough to speak; however, she was still fairly pink. “What I wished to ask is how long you will be in the capital for.”

“Well, these rains last a few days this time of year,” Sammy said.

Mary nodded, having thought as much. “My parents are returning tomorrow evening. I think it would be best if we found alternative lodgings for you by then,” she said.

“Anywhere is fine. We have to make our savings last, so there is no room for entitlement,” Sammy said.

Unable to properly comprehend that, Mary thought through what places the Princess could stay at. While she knew most would not be as familiar with the Princess as she was, she dared not take the risk, coming up with people of lesser standings who had little chance to even glimpse the Royals. “My cousin should have a spare room. He runs a hotel that hosts foreign nobility and there are no grand events coming soon,” she said.

“Oh, that sounds far too extravagant for us,” Sammy said.

Mary lightly shook her head. “He has the staff employed regardless, so what is a small favour to his cousin?”

Sammy bowed her head. “Then, if it would be no trouble, may we trouble you.”

Mary laughed a few notes, covering her mouth. She really had forgotten how sweet a tongue could be. Yet that thought inevitably led her to remembering how close that sweet tongue had been to talking her into sin, her mood becoming complicated, gaze sliding over to settle on Julie. It wasn’t quite jealousy or regret, but she certainly felt something along with her thought of, “That could have been me.”

The moment passed quickly, and she found another question to ask. “Where will you be going to afterwards?”

Sammy gently nodded, her finger coming up to rest on her bottom lip. “There is… rumour of a chapel in northern Formadgo which will bear witness to all vows,” she quietly said. “Even if no country will recognise our love, I pray that at least the gods will.”

Despite her misgivings, Mary’s innocent heart squeezed at that pure declaration—a real romantic.

As if suddenly realising she had made a mistake, Sammy covered her mouth and looked at Mary with widened eyes. “Please, if anyone should come asking, do not tell them,” she whispered.

“Of course I shall guard your secret,” Mary said.

Sammy let out a relieved breath, and then said, “Thank you.”

In light of what she had learned, Mary chose not to intrude on the lovers’ time any longer for now. Hand in hand, they left the room and were led away by a maid, Mary staying behind. While she tried to grasp her tumultuous emotions, Sammy and Julie returned to their bedroom.

After the busy week so far, they settled into a calm and quiet mood, Sammy sitting by the window and Julie checking over their packs. Once Julie finished that, she joined Sammy. The rain drummed against the window, wind whistling, beyond the window a street busy with people beneath dreary umbrellas. Although they occasionally spoke about an interesting person or happening down there, they mostly stayed in silence.

A maid summoned them for dinner at dusk. With Mary for company, they ate a good meal and had good wine to go with it. Julie was a little worried about that, but the servants only poured a couple of modest glasses for each of them, so it seemed safe enough.

However, she felt a little warm on their walk back to the room afterwards; Sammy’s hand was rather helpful for keeping her balance. In her tipsy state, she sat obediently on the bed as Sammy moved the chairs next to each other. So they then sat together, close, watching the droplets on the window glitter in the light of the gas lampposts.

Barely drunk to begin with, the cooler air and some time sobered Julie up. Yet she still felt warm, leaning against Sammy, listening to her gentle breathing.

In that peaceful mood, Sammy quietly asked, “Say, do you miss your family?”

Julie let out a breath of silent laughter. “You know I’m an orphan,” she said.

“No, I do not,” Sammy said. “Given that you have been around the palace since young, I presumed your parents worked there.”

Julie did agree that that sounded reasonable. And there had never been a reason for her to have mentioned something personal to Sammy before they had begun this journey. Given how honest Sammy had been earlier regarding her own parents, Julie felt that she owed Sammy the same honesty, even if it wasn’t really a topic worth discussing.

“My parents did work there: mother a maid, father in the garrison. It was… an illicit affair. Barely fifteen, my mother grew pregnant with me, and my father was forced to marry her. At least, I guess he was forced—a man nearly thirty being with a girl that young isn’t the noble sort. Expectedly, she struggled with the pregnancy, and then died a few months after the birth. He followed when I was three—a natural death, or so I’m told. I’ve never had the urge to check the records.”

After saying all that, Julie felt empty. She’d always felt like it had nothing to do with her. Since she’d never really had parents, it didn’t matter who they were or what they’d done. The only kindness she had from them was that she had been allowed to grow up at the palace. If not for that, she knew she would have ended up at an orphanage, and she knew enough to know that she was lucky to avoid such a place.

As for Sammy, she offered no words of comfort and simply held Julie’s hand. Really, Julie thought, that was by far more comforting than empty condolences.

Yet that silence could only last so long. Speaking softly, Sammy asked, “Do you think you ever kissed your father on the cheek?”

Julie burst into laughter, so violent that she pulled away from Sammy. Never mind how inappropriate it was given what she had just said, she had heard Sammy use a similar line before on a young lady visiting the palace, trying to get that girl to give her a kiss. With two such good reasons to laugh, Julie’s laughter kept going and going. By the time she calmed down, she was light-headed and breathless, her cheeks sore from grinning.

Yet Sammy showed no sign of being upset. With a small smile, she watched on, a warmth to her gaze.

Noticing that, Julie recalled the first time they had properly met—or rather, what had happened at the end of that meeting. “I think… your cheek is the only one I’ve kissed,” she said.

Sammy didn’t correct her. Having moved closer, she tilted her face down while looking up, bringing Julie’s focus to her long eyelashes. Her warm gaze grew hotter, and she murmured, “What of my lips?”

As if carefully planned, Julie felt herself losing to the mood Sammy had set. She felt heady from laughing, as if still tipsy, and her thoughts lingered on that kiss they’d already had, reminiscing, convincing her that this too would be a fond memory. Those eyes pulled her in, every flutter of such delicate eyelashes making Sammy seem softer, gentler, needing to be held and protected. Even the sound of her breathing affected Julie, slow and deep; it made her feel as if those hot breaths were caressing her, skin tingling with warmth.

Her own lips felt dry, tongue slipping out to wet them.

Half an arm’s length between them, Sammy closed it to a quarter and then she closed her eyes, tilting her head back and offering up her lips. Entranced, Julie slowly went to meet them. Closer, close, so close she felt a gentle and warm breath stroke her lips, and then—

A knock on the door cut through her pulse pounding in her ears, and she jerked back.

“Milady has requested the presence of Lady Sammy,” said a maid.

Rather than an intense rage, Sammy simply felt a sense of loss from the interruption, her hard work wasted yet tempered by her patience, knowing she would have another chance eventually.

However, a gentle touch landed on her cheek. It took her a moment to realise what precisely had touched her. Turning to the side, she saw Julie with flushed cheeks and a shy expression. Under her breath, Julie said, “Please forgive Lady Mary.”

Sammy was at a loss for a second, and then she recalled what had transpired the last time her kiss had been interrupted. An impish smile coming to her, she faced the window and said, “My other cheek feels left out.”

Julie thought to object, but just as soon remembered she knew better than to argue with Sammy. So she leaned forward once again, placing a light kiss on that soft, pink cheek.

“Now my lips feel left out,” Sammy said, and then pouted at Julie.

Bowing her head, Julie chuckled. “She is waiting for you.”

After a moment, Sammy gave up on the kiss and got to her feet. Her gaze lingered on Julie for another moment before she left.

When the door shut, Julie alone in the room, she let out a long, shaking breath, her hands coming to lightly rest against her mouth. She didn’t know how she felt. She thought she should have felt relieved, yet instead found a kind of frustration. That feeling couldn’t compare to the anger Sammy had shown the wild beast, but Julie finally understood why Sammy had reacted in that manner. She felt as if she had too many emotions and nowhere to vent them.

Meanwhile, Sammy followed the maid to a lounge—the drawing room, by her guess, as it had an intimateness that a parlour would have lacked. Mary sat in an armchair by the fireplace, a gentle warmth emanating from the hearth. Sammy took a seat on the neighbouring couch.

“I hope I did not interrupt you,” Mary said out of politeness.

Sammy replied, “Well, I am afraid you did.”

Not expecting that response, Mary forgot what she was going to say and focused on what the Princess had said. Soon enough, she began to blush, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the flames. “My apologies.”

“It is okay—Julie has settled your debt with a kiss,” Sammy said.

Another moment of awkward silence (at least, it was awkward for Mary) passed. Then she cleared her throat. “Well, I suppose you are wondering why I asked for your company.”

Without any hesitation, Sammy said, “Only so much as I am wondering how I can go back to my lover sooner.”

Mary pursed her lips together. After calming down with a deep breath, she said, “You treated me much nicer when we were young.”

“I wished for your touch back then; now, I do not.”

Those words fed into Mary’s embarrassment and her sense of contemplation. Focusing on the latter, she quietly asked, “Would you indulge me a little and tell me why you chose… her? I give you that her face is fairly pretty, yet she otherwise is boyish and rough, not at all like….” “Me,” she thought, but didn’t say.

Sammy let that question steep for a handful of seconds before answering. “If nothing else, I am a practical person. There are no doubt countless women more feminine than her, with fair skin and long hair,” she said softly, and paused there for a moment before continuing.

“However, there is nothing more beautiful to me than love returned. It is not that I love her in spite of her flaws, but that my preferences have changed to match her. I love her tanned skin that reminds me of the sun’s warmth, her toned body that makes me feel safe, even her rough hands feel comfortable in mine. That is to say nothing of her personality, sweet and tender and so easily teased—I simply adore her.”

If Mary had doubted the Princess’s words even a little, she could tell the truth by the gentle expression the Princess wore when speaking of Julie. It was an expression that reminded her of some five years ago: how the Princess had looked at her, perhaps how she had looked back at the Princess.

But those times had long since passed.

“I see,” she said.

Although they talked a little more, Mary had lost all will to challenge the Princess on her elopement, understanding now how hopeless that would have been. After all, she had been the first to refuse to return the Princess’s love.

By the time Sammy returned to their shared bedroom, Julie had changed into her nightgown, hiding amidst a blanket as she watched the rain. After Sammy confirmed she had spared Mary’s life, she went through to bathe. She rather took her time with it; Julie thought Sammy must have enjoyed the luxury by a few of the sounds that leaked through.

When she finished and returned to the bedroom, wearing her nightgown too, it was fairly late by their standards, used to rising by dawn. Yet there was the issue of the bed to sort out before they could sleep.

“Come on, there is so much room,” Sammy said, patting the bed.

Julie hesitated, clutching the blanket as if it kept her safe. “I’m fine on the floor.”

“Just pretend we have separate beds that we pushed together,” Sammy said.

It wasn’t a convincing argument, but Julie wasn’t exactly adverse to being convinced, the lingering frustration begging her to stay close to Sammy. So she tentatively sat on the edge of the bed and then shuffled up to the covers.

“You have to stay on your side,” she mumbled. She augmented her words with a couple of spare pillows moved to the middle of the bed.

Sammy softly laughed, her eyes bright. “Okay.”

The barrier in place, Julie released the blanket and then slid under the covers. Once she stilled, she whispered, “G’night, Sammy.”

“Goodnight, Lia.”