Morning dawned and brought with it quite the surprise for Sammy. Certainly, there was nothing strange about waking up so close to Julie, nor the kiss they shared, staring into each other’s eyes, heart bursting with feelings of love and peace.
No, the surprise came after this typical start—when Sammy went to dress. That solitary affair soon became less solitary, Julie joining her by their packs, and Julie joined her in undressing, their clothes piling together.
A bared moment that barely lasted a moment.
Dressed, Julie said in a measured voice, “We shouldn’t keep Ma waiting.”
Sammy disagreed, thinking Ma would be only too willing to be kept waiting for such a reason, but kept that to herself. Smiling, she caressed Julie’s cheek. “Yes, dear,” she whispered.
Those innocent words sounded so indecent coming from her half-dressed wife, Julie thought.
Busy thinking, it took Julie a second to stop when Sammy said, “Lia?”
And a sudden anxiety gripped Julie, so used to all those times when her steps were silently accepted, now overwhelmed by all the worries coming back to her. If she could have thought about it, she would’ve found it funny. So proud of how far she’d come, yet still standing back where they’d started, afraid of Sammy.
Afraid Sammy wanted more, maybe more afraid Sammy wanted less, drowning in the fear of not knowing what words would come next. Throat closing up, she could only hum a questioning note.
What Sammy had to say was simple: “You’re beautiful.”
Julie felt relief at those words. Only, not for the right reason. She thought she caught Sammy’s trick: Sammy said, “You’re beautiful.” Sammy didn’t say, “You look beautiful.”
Without a word, Julie left the room and left behind her very, very confused wife. She knew it was childish, but, in this area, she was still a child. Sammy had always been so careful with her words when giving compliments. This time, though, Julie took Sammy’s words to mean she didn’t look beautiful.
A buttercup had its charms, but few loved it for its beauty.
It wasn’t even that Julie cared about being beautiful. She had just felt a rush of emotion, carried away by it. Even before she made it downstairs did she regret leaving like that, but the thought of going back set off her anxiety too much to even consider, instead resigning herself to sulk over breakfast.
“Ah, wife, why so sad? No good morning kiss?”
Despite her current state, Julie had to smile. While she struggled to remember not to think poorly of Ma’s stilted Schtish, it was still disarming, hard to be upset when speaking to someone who sounded so innocent.
That said, she felt a prickle of hurt. “Sammy told you about our kisses?” she asked, brow wrinkled.
“No? I think it is normal for, what’s the word, married people. If I have wife, I kiss her every morning and every night,” Ma said.
“Oh,” Julie said, doubly embarrassed for both overreacting and for doubting Sammy.
Chuckling, Ma turned to the young woman overseeing breakfast and, in a language Julie didn’t know, said something. What Julie did know was that the young woman looked rather shy, ducking her head as she slipped into the back.
Turning back, Ma said, “If not no kiss, then you must be hungry.”
Even though Julie didn’t feel particularly hungry, if there was one thing growing up in a barracks had taught her, it was how to eat and sleep no matter the circumstances. “Sammy should be here soon,” she mumbled.
“Yes, don’t worry, I ordered for your wife too,” Ma said, their grin far from subtle.
Which only made Julie feel worse for being so childish.
Seeing Julie wilt, Ma stopped smiling. “Mrs Julie, did you fight?” they softly asked.
“Why do you think it has to do with Sammy?” Julie asked, not exactly snapping, more whining.
That brought back Ma’s grin. “You only look so happy with your wife, it must be her if you look so sad too.”
Julie couldn’t argue with that, so she asked, “I look happy?”
Ma nodded enthusiastically. “Normally, your face never move. I watch it a lot telling my stories. But when you look at wife, your face go very soft, very pretty—don’t worry, I not touch it,” they said, pausing to chuckle. “What I say is, I see many women very happy and you look very happy.”
Little emotions flickered across Julie’s face, trying to keep up with her tumbling thoughts, until she eventually asked, “Do you… think I look beautiful? As a woman.” A childish, stupid question, she knew, but that was still the kind of mood she was in.
As if Ma knew everything, they gave Julie a long and sweet look, every bit the doting parent. “Are you beautiful? No. The sunset and sunrise are beautiful. A field of flowers are beautiful. The rainbow is beautiful. The night sky is beautiful. But, you can be beautiful. When you kiss your wife, you are beautiful. I feel happy looking at wife and wife and I want to look all day.”
Julie felt a bit frustrated, not really feeling like her question had been answered, but she also felt like, if Sammy was here, she would explain Ma’s answer and it would all make sense. In fact, she thought that was true for the whole problem.
But this was one problem she couldn’t ask Sammy to solve.
The spiralling despair made her averse to thinking about it any longer, mind turning to other topics. With Ma in front of her, she thought of them.
Ma was a very strange individual. Not in a bad way, just that Julie hadn’t really spoken to anyone but Sammy for the longest time. Not only that, but, though Julie had said Ma’s story reminded her of Sammy, Julie now thought of how similar she was to Ma. Of the people they had met, even Yewry had been womanly.
It wasn’t that Julie thought she herself wasn’t a woman, but she certainly had been mistaken for a man many times, wearing her uniform and with her hair short and some muscle to her body. Well, mistaken for a teen boy. Of all the people they had met, queer or not, she thought she was most similar to Ma, at least in this way.
“Do you think men can be beautiful?” Julie quietly asked.
For a change, it was Ma’s, not Sammy’s, turn to be surprised by Julie’s seemingly random, but difficult, question. “Mm, I told you the neighbour’s son? He had a beautiful face. But beautiful not mean I love it,” they said, pausing there to see if Julie looked satisfied.
And Julie was satisfied. The shorter answer was easier to think through, certainly answered what she’d asked. But she wasn’t sure why she’d asked it now. Maybe, she thought, she was used to being with Sammy, asking whatever question came to her to hear her wife’s beautiful voice that little more.
Ma chuckled. “Very pretty face, you must not have big fight with your wife.”
Before Julie could even think to respond, another voice spoke up, saying, “Please do not flirt with my wife.”
Bowing her head, Julie didn’t dare risk catching Sammy’s eye. So she stared at the table while Sammy sat beside her. The guilt resurfaced, swelled, and she now felt ever more keenly embarrassed by her childishness.
Meanwhile, Ma grinned. “Not flirt, I only complimenting wife’s and wife’s love,” they said.
Just when Julie thought she couldn’t feel any worse, Sammy leaned in and whispered, “I am not sure what I said or did to upset you, but I am sorry and, if you tell me what, I shall be careful not to repeat it.”
Which was the last thing Julie wanted to hear. Through her clogged throat, she tried to say, “It’s nothing,” but the words didn’t come out. Yet she needed to express something, feeling like her emotions were too big for her body, uncomfortable and painful.
So she turned and kissed Sammy. Not a long nor a deep kiss, just a peck on the lips.
This did not make Sammy any less confused about what was going on. Seeing that Julie wasn’t going to give her an answer, she tried looking at Ma, only to find a smug smile that promised no answer would come.
A topping to Ma’s morning entertainment, when the young woman brought over their breakfasts, she said in Wegogao, “Your friends really are quite the sweethearts.”
“And that’s what they’re willing to do in public,” Ma said, eyebrows wiggling.
The young woman giggled, cheeks hot.
While nothing was explicitly addressed, time softened the mood and they were soon riding off again, following the trade route Ma knew well. Time softened Julie’s emotions too. However, Sammy giving her space, Julie had plenty of time to think herself into all sorts of knots.
When they rested the horses midmorning, though, Julie put everything aside, giving Sammy a shy kiss. So Ma’s story time began.
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“At the beginning in city, I still am a woman, and I try find women to, hm, bed? Sorry, I not know good word for this.”
“Be intimate with?” Sammy said.
Ma nodded, pointing at Sammy. “Ah, yes, I read that one, very good. Yes, I try find women to be intimate with. And I find some that kiss me, but only after drinking. Some let me touch her… chest? Yes, chest. But no more. And no one want to touch me.
“But I was not sad. I know that will happen. But I was not happy. She kiss me, she likes kiss me, but she not want more? I was confused. I know how I feel, and I thought she feel like me. Not just one woman, I kiss… about two-ten? Ten and ten?”
“Twenty?” Sammy said.
“Yes, about twenty, all like that. A woman can kiss a woman, but no more. I start feel like… I am not normal woman. That when I shave my head, be like a man.”
Pausing there, Ma patted their cheeks, squeezing their eyes shut, then let out a breath.
“I should say, there is many stories of PBK. Stories parents tell children to scare them. They say people here not care about family, and men and woman not married be intimate, and many more. So girls come here and believe that. I believe that. So I drink, and girls drink, and maybe they let me kiss them because they think girls here do that.”
Pausing again, Ma’s brow furrowed.
“Girls, women, sorry, I forget. Alfen language all call girls until married. The women that run here are… mostly seven and ten? Eight and ten? That when family start talking of marry.
“Anyway, I be like a man. But not very good at it. I have girl name, I look fat, I short, I have chest, I smile like girl, I sit like girl, I speak like girl. Funny, a woman laugh at me. I not tell her I am a man, but she say I like a woman. And then she kiss a man that is like a woman. She let him touch her. She let him bed her.”
Ma’s voice by the end was quiet, their gaze on the ground in front of them.
“That is the end of today’s story.”
Ma’s unusual sombreness left Sammy and Julie silent, both lost in thought for the rest of the break. Once they saddled up and set off, Sammy wanted to talk to Julie, desperate to learn that little more of how Julie thought. But she did not ask, not today.
Amidst the drum of hooves, twitter of birds, buzz of insects, whispering wind, distant shouts of farmers, none of them spoke.
A little after midday, they stopped for lunch on the outskirts of a village. Ma offered to run in and pick up some food, no need to find a stable or tie down the horses, so Sammy and Julie waited under a tree, watching the horses graze.
Village built beside a brook, Sammy listened to its babbling, which quickly led to her saying: “Julie.”
“Mm?”
“I need to pee.”
A second passed, then Julie chuckled, hanging her head. She took a deep breath before raising her head and looking along the bank. “You, um, should use a handkerchief. I don’t know these plants,” she said.
“Oh, right. Of course,” Sammy said, opening her pack.
Thinking it through, Julie said, “And rinse it in the river—we can wash it properly later.”
“Right,” Sammy said.
While Sammy squatted behind a bush, Julie kept lookout, but she wasn’t worried. The other side of the river was empty farmland, and she had a clear view of anyone coming from or going to the village. Not to mention that, by now, Sammy was pretty quick at this.
Perhaps because of how strange the morning had been, Julie remembered their first day travelling together. It really had been a shock to her. Well, it all had been a shock to her. That a princess actually did things like pee, that a princess would pee behind a bush, that a princess could get the runs.
Something twinged at the back of her mind, a memory of a memory. She had thought something important at that time….
When she looked over and watched Sammy shuffle down to the river’s edge, handkerchief dangling, it came back to her: Sammy was fairly normal, except for being a princess. She smiled to herself. It was still true, she thought.
Once Sammy returned, she left the handkerchief to dry on a branch and sat down again, keeping a small distance from Julie.
A distance Julie then removed.
Their hands joined, Sammy smiled to herself, looking down at her lap. A morning had never felt so long before.
“I am…” Julie whispered, only to run out of words there. She could barely describe her feelings at the best of times. But she knew she was hurting Sammy, even without having seen that look her wife just made at simply joining their hands.
“You don’t—”
“I do,” Julie said, a surprising heat to those words considering she had never really snapped at Sammy before.
So Sammy nodded. “Okay,” she said.
Julie brought up her other hand and rubbed her face. “I grew up in the barracks. I never saw… what a family is like. I didn’t have friends my age, not until the last year or so. But that….”
Tears welled up, saying just this much leaving her feeling more vulnerable than she’d ever felt before.
“I don’t know what, what how I feel means, like I’m broken,” Julie said, not making sense even to herself.
Sammy said nothing, just squeezed her wife’s hand.
“I’m sorry,” Julie whispered, lowering her head.
After a moment of silence, Sammy said, “It is a hard thing to learn, so take as long as you need.”
“You won’t come to hate me?” Julie asked.
There was nothing particular about Julie’s voice, perhaps a touch of a whine, but what Sammy heard was the crystallisation of this problem. What a bittersweet crystal it was too, ever so beautiful.
Sammy adjusted her hand, fingers slipping between Julie’s, entwined. “Ma said that love is a moment. I can say, in this moment, I love you with all my heart. But I can’t say that I won’t come to hate you, because that is up to you. All I ask is that, after all this time together, you think better of me than to hate you for some insignificant reason.”
The almost poetic words took Julie a while to get through, not at all helped by a mind filled with troublesome emotions. It had been so easy to take Sammy at her word before.
Becoming too much, Julie’s tears finally fell and Sammy wasted no time bringing her wife into her arms, gently rubbing her wife’s back. But that only bid more tears to fall, Julie surrendering the control she had barely been holding onto all morning. So she cried, wetting Sammy’s shoulder, embracing Sammy with all her might, quiet sobs muffled.
And Sammy said nothing, simply being the rock Julie needed in her storm of emotions.
It was a good minute later that Julie’s tears stopped, another minute for her sobs and erratic breaths to settle, the silence of the babbling brook mingling with the beating of their hearts.
Then Ma said, “I have to give another story for wife and wife, very beautiful.”
Julie froze up, but Sammy showed no surprise, the way she brought Julie closer as if nothing to do with Ma’s reappearance, hiding away her wife’s preciousness. “Please do, we don’t quite have an appetite at the moment.”
Ma’s grin softened, taking on a bittersweet tone as they plopped down next to the tree, looking over to the field rather than wife and wife. “There was women I told I was woman. The first one, she called me…. I think the word is ‘pervert’, but it is a very… mean word in my language. In most Alfen languages. It is….”
“Someone who dishonours their family?” Sammy said.
“Ah, that is right, but wrong. It more means… someone who disowns their family. There is idea that parents have children so children make new family. People who… be intimate in way not make children is pervert. But people say some things don’t mean pervert, some say do. Very complicated.”
Ma stopped there, Sammy waiting a bit before asking, “How did you feel being called that?”
“I know I pervert for long time. But, hear her say it, I felt hurt. I not care about my family. My family disown me, not me disown them. When she say it, I felt hurt because she know I am pervert, so she want to hurt me. I make her happy in bed and she want to hurt me.”
Ma paused to chuckle, settling into a grin. “You know what? I tell her I not one being bedded, so she is the pervert. She slap me, but I not care, not as hurting as my heart.”
Sammy offered a polite chuckle. Silence settling again, she asked, “What of the other women you told?”
“No more stories today. And these stories, I think a few days, otherwise I stop smiling and women like a man who smiles,” Ma said.
The story having given Julie time to settle, she separated herself from Sammy. That wasn’t easy, Sammy seemingly unwilling to part, but those strong arms eventually gave. Then they quietly ate the sandwiches Ma had bought, packed with fried meat and vegetables. Julie could barely open her mouth wide enough to take a bite.
“I give tip,” Ma said, amused at their companions’ struggle, “tell them you hear good things of food, but first time here. They be very generous. No one wants traveller think poorly of her food.”
“My, what a good tip that is,” Sammy said.
The lingering midday heat soon broke, swept away by a meandering breeze. Once the horses had grazed and drank enough, they set off, not so quiet this time. Ma’s horse behaving better, they stayed beside Sammy and spoke at length of where the journey had taken Sammy and Julie. Funnily enough, it sounded rather new to Julie. So much had happened that she’d forgotten most of the details.
Come early evening, they approached a village. It was a little off the trade route and rather small, but Ma knew someone there well, so there they went. Of course, it turned out this someone was a woman and she greeted Ma with an enthusiastic kiss.
“It seems we may owe Ma a story,” Sammy whispered to Julie, very pleased by the snort Julie let out.
Showing no shame, Ma turned around with a grin. “This my good friend Goyani.”
Goyani did not speak Schtish, but bowed her head in greeting.
The issue of language aside, Goyani was a warm host, rattling off countless questions to Ma about what food they wanted, if they needed hot water, as well as making sure Ma had treated them well. Along the way, Ma told Goyani the guests were husband and wife, and apologised to Sammy and Julie for it.
But Sammy smiled as she said, “We wouldn’t want to upset your happiness.”
Over dinner—skewered mutton, grilled with onions and a few other vegetables—the topic turned to Goyani. “She is, mm, word artist?” Ma said.
“An author?” Sammy asked.
Ma shook their head. “The old… royal language?”
“Ah! Calligraphy,” Sammy said, using the Paschimi word.
“Yes, that,” Ma said.
Sammy turned to Julie. “To make it even harder for commoners, the old royal language used something like a pictographic dictionary. That is, every word wasn’t made up of letters, but a small, abstract drawing. And Goyani is someone who does these drawings professionally. If I am correctly informed, it is common for nobles to still buy signs and such with their family’s traditional name?” she said, the last part directed to Ma.
“Yes, very common. Every family want to be the oldest,” Ma said, a touch of humour to the words.
“Indeed, every family,” Sammy said, smiling as she thought of the politics back home.
And once the wine came out, it wasn’t long before the topic turned to Goyani and Ma. “How did you meet?” Sammy asked, idly swirling her glass.
“It was work. I help her bring a calligraphy to customer. We talk lots, drink lots,” Ma said, the whole time playing with Goyani’s hand, Goyani watching with a smile.
Speaking in Wegogao, Ma had a back-and-forth with Goyani, then went back to Schtish.
“She says it is hard for her to find a man. Men are very needy, he wants lots of attention, but she loves her work and doesn’t want to marry. So she liked me, because I listen to her and I want very little from her. But now she like me because I am gentle. She has man friends she likes too, but he… I not sure how to say, but it like he only nice before he beds her, then he have somewhere else to be,” Ma said, speaking lightly at the end.
Sammy politely chuckled, nodding. “I see.”
Speaking for themself, Ma said, “I very nice before and after.”
“I am sure you are,” Sammy said. She then turned to Julie, not exactly surprised by the deep blush her wife showed, but unsure how much was from the topic and how much from the glass of wine. “My partner is not good with drinking, if you would excuse us?”
Ma spoke briefly to Goyani, then said to Sammy with a far from subtle grin, “That is perfect—we have something to do. We try not be too noisy.”
“Please, we are guests. I wouldn’t ask the lady to mind us,” Sammy said, her face scrunched up in mischief.
Standing up, Ma chuckled. “I bring you water, then see you in the morning,” they said.
“Thank you,” Sammy said.
Sammy found her wife rather obedient on their trip upstairs. Of course, Julie wasn’t so out of it from a single glass of wine with a meal. Nor was she so naive to have missed what had been said.
In the guest room, Sammy sat Julie down on the bed, then went to their packs, taking out a couple of things. Soon enough, Ma made sure to knock before entering with the water and left right away. Although the weather was warmer these days, the nights still brought on a chill, so Sammy teased out a small flame, heating the water.
While she waited for that, she spoke with her back to Julie. “Lia?”
Julie broke from her daze, gaze sliding over to Sammy. “Yeah?”
“I know today has been hard for you, but would you wash my back?” Sammy asked.
A moment passed, such a long moment, then Julie softly said, “Always.”
Sammy smiled to herself, the knot around her heart loosening.