Chapter 13: Frivolities and First Dawns
Of Being Known
It took no time at all to remember I had no money, so a trip into town would be pointless. So I journeyed back to the kitchen, where I found someone had been cleaning and had set out a neat array of foods. Among them was another note.
Since you won't be returning to bed, I laid out some food that you'd be able to cook for a late morning breakfast. The stove may be started with the switch at the front. While you wait for it to heat, you can check the pantry in case I missed important ingredients. I look forward to whatever masterpiece you make for us.
Jas.
That woman understood me too well for someone I'd only known a few moons.
I checked the stove's fuel chamber and found it properly filled, then turned the switch mentioned in the note. The flame that sparked began a deep red – cold-flame, no doubt – but quickly shifted to the yellowy orange common for wood and radiating heat, something that shouldn't have been possible. At the same moment as the heat started, the switch clicked back to its original position.
Jasmin had set out flour and eggs, a few meats, several vegetables I'd never seen, and carrots. The woman had really taken a liking to those after the first time I'd cooked with them. As they weren't exactly breakfast food, I took them to the pantry, which I found well-stocked in contrast to the night before. Trading the carrots for an odd looking pepper-like lump, I returned to the stove, which was heated nicely.
My nose was the first part of me alerted to her presence as Queen's Heart began mingling with the scent of the food. Then my ears as feet shuffling and clothes brushing each other interrupted the sizzles and pops that had been my company thus far. And finally my waist as her hands wrapped around me from behind.
"Jasmin," I playfully greeted her with a chuckle, continuing to stir the various pans without looking over my shoulder.
"Roisin," her voice sang my name, as always, cuing me to set my cooking implements to the side.
Before I properly knew what was happening, she had whipped me around and held my head in both hands. I didn't even have time to take her in before her lips were on mine, pulling every bit of good sense I normally would have had into my face. My body seemed to melt as I leaned into her kiss, but she didn't seem to notice.
When she at last released me, I was able to give her a proper look. It might have been the kiss talking, but she looked absolutely stunning. If not for the sounds of the food behind me, I might have let myself be taken in.
She was barefoot, something I'd only seen when she was bathing or changing clothes thus far. Her legs were covered only to mid-shin with a skirt more suited to a working woman than a lady of class. She wore a loose blouse that was almost too sheer to be called clothing, making my mind wander to an odd image it didn't seem ready to parse.
As my eyes reached her face, I realised her hair had gotten much longer in the time we'd known each other. My eyes were drawn instinctively past all of that to a spot where her hair seemed to be readying itself to grow in grey.
That thought came and went as my eyes resettled on her lips. Full and pink. Then her eyes. A subtle peridot ring settled at the edge of her pupils, surrounded by the brilliant amber I was accustomed to.
A sudden pop from the stove was followed by an intense burning on the back of my neck, signalling me to return to the task of cooking, but not before planting a quick, gentle kiss on Jasmin's lips.
"I will set aside the fact that you predicted my behaviours down to the letter," I began my assault as I flipped the pan pastry I was preparing for breakfast, "and instead thank you for doing everything you did to make this house feel a bit less daunting."
Jasmin began bumping around in the pantry and returned with the strange vegetables. She knew. "Well, I clearly wasn't perfect if you didn't bother using the reposian stalks, my dear." Her mocking tone was playful all the same. "It's fine. This can be eaten raw so long as it's fully cleaned. Better that way as well."
Sounds of water running behind me told me she had decided to prepare whatever a reposian stalk was. Meanwhile, I continued managing the three dishes I was preparing. I felt a not unwelcome blush spread across my face as I whispered, "Wives."
Her hands were suddenly at my waist spinning me around again, my hands and feet flailing about as I was turned forcibly until my nose was an inch from hers. "I heard that, Lady Thornleaf. Oh I love the sound of that. The Lady and Mrs. Thornleaf. Can we stay here?"
I fought almost uselessly against her impossible strength for several seconds before responding. "If you insist on calling me 'Lady Thornleaf' for more than a sevensun, I will be divorcing you, princess."
"Fine." Her lower lip shot out as her brow knit in something resembling contrition. "I like Roisin better anyway. It keeps us grounded. And it really well suits your petite ferocity, my delightful rosy ruffian."
Her expression was brighter with each word as my jaw sagged lower at her compliment. Quick as a prawn mouse in a clumsy chef's kitchen, Jasmin had something in my mouth and was softly pressing my jaw to close around it.
It crunched and released a juicy explosion in my mouth. There was a cool freshness to it that settled into a subtly sweet and sharp sort of slickness that slipped down my throat as I continued to chew. If not for the stringiness of the stalk, it would be an incredible snack on a long hike. I tucked that bit of information away in my mind as Jasmin giggled at my expression.
"I'll work out a way to make that properly edible," I smiled at last. Jasmin's face fell and I immediately moved to ease her worry. "No. It's amazing. But the fibres make it hard to chew, love. Now, let's convene to somewhere more cosy to eat. Food's ready."
Rather than the dining hall or servant's quarters, Jasmin led me back through the foyer and out to the front of the house. There was a small table, just big enough for our modest breakfast, and two chairs, situated such that they would look out on the neighbourhood and give me a clean view of the city we would be calling home for a while.
The meal was almost magical. A pan pastry with eggs and seared vegetables. The shallow-fried salt-mutton I prepared was an excellent match for Jasmin's odd, stringy flavour stalks. I was making unseemly faces for one eating in view of the public.
Though, to be fair, they weren't exactly an active public that sun. During our meal, two people walked by. We waved at them both and returned to our food. Every few bites, I stopped to familiarise myself with the view.
In direct view of Thornleaf Manor were five genuinely ostentatious mansions and three more modest homesteads. The streets glistened in a late morning dew that seemed to settle nicely on the brick surface. It was an odd use of building materials, I reasoned, but each place had its own needs. A low metal fence ran along the edges of the street as it extended from this little corner of the city.
When I finished my food, the salty sea air finally found its way to my nose, mixing with Jasmin's scent. If being surrounded by Queen's Heart as I slept was perfect comfort, the blending of it and the sea somehow felt like home.
"Jasmin," I said it with a coy smile.
"Roisin," her own smile said she was enjoying her sun.
"Would the fine Mrs. Thornleaf care to escort her wife around the city she clearly spent the evening exploring without the good Lady of the house?" I stuck out my tongue as I finished.
She was thoughtful for a moment before responding. "Actually, I think I'll stick with Primrose for now. At least until we can properly get married, you know."
"Okay?"
"And I suppose since the good Lady can't defend herself, I can find it in me to tear myself away from managing our home and keep you company."
Whispers of the Waif
We walked slowly along the streets of Blue Stone, Jasmin forcing us to maintain a leisurely pace. I wasn't sure how much of it was a way of telling me we were safe and how much was her trying to protect me from myself, but it warmed my heart all the same. And it definitely helped make the ocean breeze a bit less intense.
Each building we passed once could no longer see the manor stood proudly upon its foundations. There were signs of age at the corners and along the ground, but they were stable giants clearly built for anything. The most common style of buildings were built on raised foundations with channels running beneath them to let rains – and possibly waves – work their way to the sea.
Compared to the night before, the streets were nearly barren, with only a few vendors setting up stalls. The few others who were out seemed set on getting to a particular location, paying no further mind to their surroundings than was necessary to avoid collisions.
I hadn't had time, really, to observe people as we came into town, but I noticed quickly that most people were dressed in more relaxed clothes, regardless of 'station'. Every single person we saw was wearing clothes that looked like any average piece I'd found in the manor's closets.
Jasmin led me down the main street toward the harbour, where a few dockside shops were already operational. And busy.
She leaned in close. "If they wait for the sun, the fish start to rot in place and stink like seven shades of death." Despite the colourful description, I appreciated her explanation.
"Can we get some for supper?" I'd only ever had riverfish, never fresh catches from the sea.
As we got closer to the bustle, I instinctively wrapped my arm around hers and held myself as close to her as possible. She gently turned her head and laid it atop mine. I knew she was taller than me, but when she did that, it made me blush a bit at the difference.
We found a spot in line at one of the counters and waited patiently. It was weird to consider, but I felt grateful to be bumped and jostled by the people around me. No one made a fuss about me. No one seemed to care that I existed.
The counters around us were just above waist height with a deep recess in the centre. They were filled with ice nearly to the brim with fish of every shape and manner pressed into it. Some fish had heads intact, others didn't, others were hardly recognisable as fish, so I couldn't really place whether they had been beheaded.
The line moved slow and sure until there was only one person in front of us. That was when one of the women standing behind the counter seemed to light up. My stomach dropped. It had been going so well.
"Ah! The Mrs. Primrose! Welcome back!" She was excited for Jasmin. Not me. My tension melted immediately.
"I told you last night, Ingrid," Jasmin's friendly tone was paired with a deep sigh, "you can call me Salora. It won't hurt." She stepped forward, pulling me along effortlessly. I did my best to shrink behind her.
"Well, Salora," Ingrid, apparently, smiled, "two questions. First, what can I get you?"
"Well, my wife is from far out eveward." She gently nudged me as she said it. Ingrid didn't notice. "What do you recommend?"
"Eveward, hmm?" Ingrid's lips curled in, and her brow knitted deeply for several seconds. "Well, we have some fresh silver-skippers. They're like a fatty riverfish with a bit less mud. And we also have some bonefish, if you think she'd like something completely different."
"Great! Let's have enough of each for three people, and we'll sort the specifics when we prepare supper this evening." Jasmin flashed that brilliant smile of hers as Ingrid set to packing two different fishes. "Now, you said you had another question?"
Ingrid looked up as she folded a large sheet of paper around the first fish. The action was practised. She didn't have to watch. "I was going to ask about that incredibly attractive companion of yours." She paused, waiting for Jasmin to answer the unspoken question.
"Oh her?" She pulled me to the front, prompting an intense blush from me. "Ingrid the fishmonger, I am delighted to introduce you to my beautiful wife." Jasmin turned toward me, beaming. "Beautiful wife, this is Ingrid." She winked at me.
"Ingrid, was it?" I said the words as kindly as possible. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Afina Thornleaf."
The motion around us halted immediately. My neck burned as eyes from every angle settled on Ingrid, Jasmin, and most importantly me. I felt Jasmin's arm wrap around me as a shield. There were no whispers, no pointing fingers, only a silent acknowledgement of what had been said.
"Lady Thornleaf," Ingrid said with a mild stammer. "The pleasure is all mine. No one was certain your house would return to The Stone, but we're pleased to have you."
Just like that, the spell was broken, and the crowd started milling about again. Jasmin's arm relaxed a hair before she spoke. "How much do we owe you? And don't try to cheat yourself."
Ingrid finished wrapping the second fish as her face twisted up a bit. "Well if you insist on paying, the normal price would be thirty."
From seemingly nowhere, Jasmin produced a purse I was certain I'd never seen, even in our time walking about Powell's Square. She pulled several small coins from it before vanishing it back wherever she'd had it.
"You'll take fifty for the fish, and you'll come by for supper some time." Jasmin's expression had turned severe. "Afina is an incredible chef, Ingrid. It would be a shame to waste even a single taste of it, and we often cook too much."
As we walked away, Jasmin shifted to hold my hand properly and led us back onto the main street where suddenly the action had really picked up.
"Why did you overpay for the fish, Jasmin?" I whispered the words, desperate to be back at the manor.
She smiled and pulled me closer. "I didn't. She tried to undercharge us."
I hadn't considered that. My mouth went dry at the thought people might do something like that. Was that commonplace when people interacted with nobility? Unconscionable. "Thank you for not letting her do that, love."
Jasmin had, apparently, made friends with every single person in Blue Stone while she was out the night before, because she greeted or was greeted by almost everyone. I caught exactly zero of their names. A few gave me a knowing glance while chatting with Jasmin, and she nodded in acknowledgement. They seemed to know the impact my presence would cause.
We continued walking about the market until Jasmin had bought provisions enough to fully stock the pantry. At every stop, I worried about the glances coming my way. Did they know, or were they just curious about the fidgety waif who was attached to the personable goddess they'd met the night before.
"Mrs. Primrose!" The call came from behind us. When we turned, a child was approaching quickly, carrying a stack of books. He was no more than thirteen years, with the early signs of facial scruff just barely showing. "Mrs. Primrose! I have those books you —"
He stopped short, staring at me. His energy had drawn eyes. The whispers started as his eyes shifted from me to Jasmin over and over. She waited patiently, expecting he would break the streak.
Seeing the loop continue, I ventured to make a move. "Hello there," I said with as much of my voice as possible without looking like I was yelling at a child. There was a crowd, and I needed them to hear this. "I see you are acquainted with my fine wife, Salora Primrose." I could practically hear the eye roll from Jasmin. "May I have your name, young one?"
The boy held out his left hand, fingers cupped like Aster had done the night before. I took his forearm the same way she'd shown me. "The name is Aidan, purveyor of fine books and collector of valued knowledge." Aidan blushed before adding. "Or I hope to be one sun."
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Aidan." My voice continued ringing out as full as I could keep it going. Repeating the motion Aster had done, I released his hand. "I'm Afina Thornleaf. I take it that handful you've got is for us?" His jaw hung slack as he handed the lot to me, and Jasmin immediately lifted them from my hands to begin inspecting them.
The whispers had stopped. I hated the attention. This moment was going to shape everything about our future in Blue Stone. I needed to make it count.
"Everyone who can hear my voice right now," my voice echoed off the buildings around us. Several people flinched at my acknowledgement of their attention. "My name is Afina Thornleaf. I don't know what you think you know about me or my family. I don't know my family's history in this fine city. I don't know how to be the Lady Thornleaf that you all expect me to be.
"I grew up a nobody in Powell's Square of the second district. My mother was conscripted when I was born. My father was conscripted seven years later. I will make mistakes. I will mess up. I don't know what it means to be Afina Thornleaf. Please don't hold that against me.
"Anyone who wants to can come to the Thornleaf Manor. If I or Salora are home, we will welcome you. We will treat you at worst as friends and at best as kin.
"We had been planning to lie and tell you some grand romance about ourselves. But the truth is that we're just two women in love, and we needed to get away from danger. I hope you can all appreciate that I had no intention of changing your lives here in Blue Stone. If I do, then it will be incidental and hopefully for the best.
"Please," I said at last, the whole crowd looking at me by that point, "treat me just as you would any other person in town. And pass the message on to your neighbours."
A voice reached my left ear. "Well done, cousin. Your mother would be proud." I hadn't seen Aster approach. She moved from her position behind me and addressed the crowd. "You heard the Lady Thornleaf. Go about your sun. Greet her if you see her. She is just like any of the rest of us." When everyone kept looking, she boomed an intense command. "Disperse!"
Like magic, the whole crowd went back to their business. Some looked back toward me and smiled kindly. Others ignored me, just as I'd hoped.
Turning back toward Aidan, Aster smiled. "You did good, kid." She tossed him a large coin. "Go buy yourself something nice from the snack vendor." He scurried off, almost tripping over himself in the process.
"Did you set that up as some sort of test, Aster?" She returned a sheepish grin at my question. "Well, I appreciate it. It's been difficult throughout the morning, worrying that everyone was whispering and staring at me."
"They were. And now they'll be gossiping, but they won't be difficult." She took in my full appearance. "By the goddess, you look just like your mother, but you dress like your grandmother. I like what you did with the hair."
She turned and started back up the main street toward the front gate. The crowds parted for her in much the same way they had when she escorted us to the manor. Apparently she was quite the staple in Blue Stone.
"How about, my dear," Jasmin was beaming, "you and I return to the house and get properly acquainted with it."
Petals Promised
We returned to the manor, and I stocked the pantry as Jasmin went somewhere with the books she'd gotten from Aidan. I'd have to ask about them later, but I was distracted with how and where to put everything we'd brought home.
Once the bulk of our food and such were placed, I turned my attention to the wrapped fish we'd bought. It had been ages since the last time I'd prepped fish, but as the knife made its first cut, my muscles took over. Deboning the one called a silver-skipper was exactly like working with a riverfish. It gave me confidence I hadn't felt in a while.
Once I had it fully broken down, I salt-packed half the fish for smoking later and set to preparing the rest for supper. Ingrid had said it was like riverfish, so I used the same methods I would for the fish I'd been raised on. A bit of salt, some spice, the juice of a citrus fruit, and a few of the dried herb leaves we'd bought.
I covered the dish with the silver-skipper and turned my attentions on the bonefish. Taking it in one hand, I inspected every part of it carefully, running my other hand along various parts in hopes of understanding before cutting. Once I was fully confident, I began the breakdown.
Bonefish, as a credit to its name, was definitely a different beast than the silver-skipper. Where the one had a smooth and fairly sleek build, with pin-like bones throughout, the other was chunky. And that was putting it lightly. The bones were a jagged mess. The skin fought back if I rubbed it wrong. Everything about the fish was a challenge.
When I finally wrestled it into submission, I checked that the stove was still hot from breakfast. There were still logs burning inside, so I was able to quickly set to work. I seared a small piece of the bonefish, carefully making certain it was fully cooked before taking it off the heat and tasting it.
The texture was silk, melting under the slightest pressure from my teeth. I hadn't salted the fish, but its rich flavour made me moan as its fat coated every surface of my mouth. As I continued to chew, the experience culminated in a sharp taste from the last bits of meat that dissolved on my tongue.
I had tasted the fish to sort how best to season it, but the thing was almost perfect without my intervention. Before cooking the rest of the fish, I set about preparing some vegetables and a bit of bread. Once it was all ready, I prepared fish steaks and roasted vegetables for us.
Jasmin returned to the kitchen as I finished the cooking, and she moaned at the smell. "My dear, please tell me that is lunch."
"Of course it is, darling," I laughed as I placed a bit of the bonefish steak in her mouth. Her face was beautiful as she went through the same experiences as I had.
"What in all of Lafleur was that, Roisin?"
"Bonefish steak." My matter-of-fact tone seemed a dire mismatch at Jasmin's reaction. "Did I do something wrong?"
"I've had bonefish. That is not bonefish."
"Then I suppose I'm just a better cook than whomever disappointed you with it, love." I smirked, proud of myself.
"Yes. Yes you are."
Jasmin was barely sitting upright by the time we finished eating lunch. That told me all I needed to know about her exploits the night before. I'd noticed the house was substantially less dusty, but I hadn't commented on it yet.
"Come, darling," I said softly, "you need a nap."
She perked up immediately, almost leaping to her feet. "Yes. Bed. We should rest. In bed." She stared at me for several seconds before adding, "My dear."
I took her hand, and started toward the door that joined the dining hall and the kitchen, but she stopped and pulled me another direction.
"We could nap in there," she said, "but I have a better idea." She pulled me through the hallway into the foyer and turned right. We entered the hallway and she pushed open the first door there, leading into one of the two grand bedrooms.
Jasmin had been busy.
The room was free of dust, but there were flower petals scattered throughout on the floor and the bed, which was now sporting new sheets and blankets. There was a vanity table with a mirror and a cushioned seat, none of which were there before. Next to the bed on each side was a small table. On one side, a vase with a small bouquet. On the other, a familiar hideous vase with a radiant silverthorn flower resting comfortably.
"Is that —"
"The silverthorn I found with you the night of the attack. I don't know how, but it keeps on shining." She was pleased with herself about something. "I don't know how it survived the moons of travel since Powell's Square, but somehow it did."
I moved to the flower as she spoke, wondering at it in its home within Delia's ugliest vase. My hand moved to take it and inhale its sweetly intoxicating aroma. It smelled like Jasmin. Or she smelled like it.
Turning to face her, I smiled, tears coming to my eyes. "Thank you, love."
She closed the gap in a second and held me close. "You're quite welcome, dearest one."
I returned the flower to its vase, letting the stem dip gently into the water. "Jasmin," the word practically oozed attraction.
"Roisin," her voice was curious, but salacious all the same.
Her gaze was hungry when I turned to see her. "So about the whole 'I want more' conversation."
"Yes, dear," she said as her hands began moving to unbutton the blouse she wore, "what about it?"
"Would now be a good time to say I need you?"
"I thought you'd never ask."