Book 5 - Chapter 45 - Seeking Her Answer (Patreon)

“Oh, honestly, it’s not a bother. I’m kind of flattered.” As much as Ranthia wanted to embrace Avyna then and there, it was obvious enough that she was doing her utmost to stay in character as ‘Sylphene’. The least Ranthia could do was to play along, even if she’d spent a little too long gawking.

Not that she should embrace her wayward lover. At least not so soon. Her utter relief that Avyna had actually kept her word might have completely overwhelmed her lingering resentment and uncertainty, but she still needed answers. She needed to know what their future could even look like before she lost herself to momentary passions.

No matter how tempted she was to kiss her then and there, in defiance of all logic and reason.

“Yes, my apologies! Welcome to Brastille’s Bounty, madam. Please feel free to browse while I retrieve your letters.” ‘Sylphene’ ducked her head respectfully, before she turned toward the back area of the temporary shop.

“Fool! You forgot to ask her name—it’s Ranthia!” The unpleasant elf hurled yet another barb after her, before he turned back to Ranthia and rubbed his hands together. “My apologies for my assistant. She’s both new and young. I’m sure even you know what that combination can be like, bwahahaha! But please, feel free to browse! Even if a spear doesn’t strike your fancy, I have many items that would suit you. Perhaps a set of fine jewels to accentuate your own beauty?”

Empty flattery or no, it was hard to keep herself from glaring at the man. Even if his assistant had been a stranger, his brazen mistreatment of her would have been intensely off-putting—and with someone she loved on the receiving end of it, she found herself truly tempted to indulge in an inadvisable bit of violence.

Unfortunately, she knew for a fact that Elsynthene’s self-indulgent benevolence had its limits. And for whatever reason, murdering a prominent [Merchant] definitely fell on the wrong side of them.

Sometimes she almost regretted not taking a stealth-focused combat class.

“Where’s Kiyaya?” Ranthia lobbed a question Awarthril’s way in lieu of a proper greeting, as she tried to feign interest in the dull wares of a mediocre [Merchant]. It was better than stewing in her frustrations until they boiled over, at least.

“This city has less faith in Bonded companions than most.” The copper-haired elf complained.

…Huh, that probably meant that Kiyaya and Solareon were in the same facility, unless Neyvern took her out for a morning flight. And somehow, Ranthia doubted the two would get along any better in there. There wasn’t really anything she could do about that, but she sent Xaoc a quick prayer on behalf of the elves that were tending to them.

Because more chaos was absolutely what they needed while dealing with an irate griffon and a willful dire wolf.

“She’ll love the boarding facility.” Ranthia shamelessly lied. “Solareon’s always eager for the thorough grooming they do there. And they have their own specialist [Cook] too.”

“So, in other words, she’s going to be spoiled by the time we move on.” Awarthril’s tone of voice was far too familiar: regret, borrowed from a far-too-plausible future.

No one that lived alongside and loved animals—or small children, for that matter—could possibly mistake it.

“One letter for you, madam.” Sylphene returned with a smile on her face. Large strides closed the gap between them until she set the paper into Ranthia’s hand, very intentionally allowing her fingertips to brush against Ranthia’s in the process.

“Thank you.” Ranthia answered, a moment too late. There was no sender information recorded, but there was only one being on Pallos that called her “Auntie Ran.” What had Anthelleon done to piss off her wayward son yet again?

Brastille called for ‘Sylphene’ while Ranthia was briefly distracted, drawing Avyna away from her yet again. One of her [Divine Eyes] tracked her, while the other focused on Awarthril—who was giving Ranthia a knowing look. Eh, so long as Ranthia’s attention came off as attraction, that was fine.

But the bigger issue was that she had no idea what to do! She needed to talk to Avyna. Desperately! But Brastille was the kind of man that kept those in his employ on a short leash. Which raised serious questions about why Avyna was even pretending to be subservient to such a worthless person.

“Girl, what were you even thinking?! I told you last time, I want these pieces displayed with the most expensive in front!” Of course, even as Ranthia wondered, Brastille once again proved just how abrasive he could be.

“When we were setting up, I proposed grouping them by enchantment type and you—” Avyna’s head was lowered, but Ranthia didn’t miss the strain buried in her voice. Clearly, she wasn’t any happier with the man’s treatment than Ranthia was.

“I don’t care! Do it the way I wanted, you foolish child!” His booming retort cut Avyna’s explanation short and drew looks from the surrounding stalls.

And with that, Ranthia’s simmering rage boiled over. Had the man actually raised a hand toward Avyna, he would have lost it—consequences be damned. But even if he had the sense to not strike her, Ranthia was done listening to his abuses toward the woman she… Well, someone she still cared about, at least.

No more.

“Enough already! Gods and goddesses, you’re like a living embodiment of what not to do as a [Merchant]!” Ranthia snapped, stepping as close to the man as she dared—not out of fear of reprisal, she just didn’t want to find her hands wrapped around his jewel-laden neck.

“Excuse me, and who do you think you are?!” Unsurprisingly, the arrogant elf puffed himself up, folding his arms into his fine clothes as he glared at her.

The tiniest shred of self-doubt expressed itself in her heart. If the young woman wasn’t Avyna, she was about to make a grave mistake. But she dismissed the concern—she was confident that she knew exactly who she was ‘rescuing.’ And it gave her a grand excuse to be alone with the alleged stranger to boot.

“Ranthia. I could have sworn I already introduced myself.” She favored him with an unfriendly smile. “Look, it doesn’t take a brilliant [Merchant] to recognize that yelling at and belittling those who work for you in front of customers is gratingly idiotic. Not that anyone worth working for should ever insult the people under them. Especially not when they’re trying to help you!”

Hands stayed by her side, right where they needed to be. No gesticulations. No pointing. And no matter how tempted she was, she refused to step into his personal space. She did everything exactly as she should—aside from her scathing tone, of course.

The smile wasn’t that menacing.

“You, caravan guard, throw this thing out of my shop!” Not that her propriety saved her from the obvious outcome. And with a dash of anti-human sentiment too, just because terrible people seemed to feel compelled to prove themselves as godsawful as possible.

“Why? She just gave you some good advice. Besides, this isn’t a ‘shop’, it’s a few tables on public land.” Awarthril turned to walk away as she gave her response.

“Sir, please do not—” For a moment there, Ranthia could have sworn she saw a twinkle of mischief in Avyna’s eyes. Just before she seized the man’s sleeve.

“Get your hands off of me! Enough of this foolishness! You—out!” His hands returned from his sleeves as he pointed at Ranthia imperiously. “And you can take this worthless child with you! I’m done with her, I’m done with you, and I’m done with any caravan guard that’s unable to understand her duty!”

“Wait, you can’t just—” Ranthia had already planned to say the words necessary to protest his actions, but with Awarthril also caught up in the man’s tantrum, they abruptly became far more important!

“It is alright, perhaps this is for the best.” Avyna lowered her head. “Thank you for your guidance until this point. And may your business thrive, regardless of how it is managed.”

Ranthia had managed to piss the man off, but Avyna’s parting words left him positively incandescent. Banal profanity, amorphous threats, and petty insults followed them as they briskly departed the shop’s vicinity, hurrying to catch up to the seemingly unfazed Awarthril.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to cost either of you your jobs.” Ranthia lied to one elf while earnestly meaning the exact same words to the other.

“It is no bother. In truth, I likely should have departed from him long ago. He was not the man I expected him to be.” ‘Sylphene’ answered, moving a bit closer. “If anything, I should be grateful. It has been a long time since anyone stood up for me like that.”

“Same here. It isn’t like I needed the job; it was just something to do while I tried to find what I wanted to do next. I spent so much time focused on helping Kiyaya and then that war of ours. It’s hard to even remember what I want out of life. Other than a handsome, multi-talented and high-level guy, of course. We could probably use the break.” Awarthril waved the concern off with a shrug.

“Still, I feel responsible… Tell you what, I think we’re between breakfast and lunch services right now, so let me cook something for you both. I’ve got a Skill for it!” Ranthia made her invitation to both women, though she gave Awarthril a meaningful glance.

Which was somewhat useless while she was wearing her blindfold, yes. She was a bit too spoiled to interacting with her close friends that seemed to be able to sense her gaze and intent.

“Oh, that would be lovely! Thank you so much!” Avyna agreed immediately, her unfamiliarly purple eyes wide with excitement.

“I’ll let you two have fun.” Awarthril declined with a benevolent smirk. “I’d rather go play with Kiyaya right now.”

Ranthia mouthed a silent thank you to her newfound friend (if nothing else, the day had proven that Awarthril was worthy of being called a friend), before she turned her attention to Avyna.

It certainly didn’t take long for her anticipation and uncertainty to return.

Ranthia had no doubt in her heart or mind, truly, but it was still something of a relief when her long-absent lover immediately set to work checking on her home’s privacy enchantments and setting up a supplemental privacy barrier engraved into a steel chain. Only Avyna would have ever bothered with such a thing—it wasn’t like the privacy wards built into the tree were in any way insufficient for most purposes.

Ranthia shucked her blindfold while she waited with deliberate patience.

“<You’re early.>” Ranthia was still the first to speak, once Avyna finished fiddling with the enchantments.

“” Avyna answered, finally using her familiar sonorous cadence.

Words jumbled and piled in Ranthia head, unuttered. For a long moment, they just stood there, separated by a few mere paces as they looked into one another’s eyes. The struggle reflected in Avyna’s gaze mirrored Ranthia’s own. Mutually, they yearned to embrace—gods and goddesses, more than anything Ranthia just wanted to kiss Avyna and welcome her back into her life.

But she couldn’t. They needed to talk things through before she could give in to her desperate heart. But where could she even begin?!

“<I…>” She had a thousand and twenty-four things she needed to say. Thrice as many things that she wanted to say. And yet every last syllable seemed to be utterly incapable of finding its way to her tongue.

It was the moment that she’d dreamed about. But her dreams weren’t always pretty—she stood at the juncture between the sweetest hope and the beginning of a horrific nightmare. For better or worse, her future and her happiness…

“” Avyna’s gaze hardened, ever so slightly, as she found her resolve while Ranthia floundered.

“Avy—” Ranthia had no idea what she was about to say, not that she got the chance to say it.

“<No! Sylphene, please. Even if it is just us, I cannot risk that name being heard. Not here.>” Avyna shouted the first word and hurriedly subvocalized the rest into its wake.

It was sensible. It made sense. But Ranthia’s heart still recoiled at the rebuke and raged against the restriction—which was ridiculous!

While Ranthia took a deep breath and tried to recenter herself, just as her [Mind Healer] had taught her long ago, Avyna reclaimed the initiative and resumed speaking.

“<After Evi’s death, I was terribly angry. I found myself with no one to turn to and, no matter how confident I acted, I had no true experience with being on my own. Of course, there was a time that I considered my ignorance to be a good thing. There was a period when my urge to destroy myself was checked only by cowardice, but eventually even that was lost within my anger. I wanted revenge, even more than I wanted to see Evi.

“<The goblins that murdered her were dead, of course. And my own departure was likely the greatest revenge I could have inflicted upon my parents. Their reputation undoubtedly suffered for it, in the wake of the loss of their only other daughter. But this meant that I had no outlet, only a burning need for… Prisms, before I met you, I would have called it ‘justice’, but now the word feels outright absurd. Even from the beginning, it was nothing more than a desire for petty vengeance. No, worse than that, it was a child’s tantrum against the unfairness of the world. And I held onto it for over a thousand years.>” Avyna laughed bitterly, shaking head.

The enchanted chain that provided their first line of defense against being overheard restricted just how far they could move. Within its boundaries, tea remained inaccessible, just the same as every chair or couch in home. But the chain was looped so loosely that there was still ample space between them. No intimacy was demanded.

In defiance of that, Ranthia took a single step forward, closing the gap between them. She had enough sense not to interrupt—Avyna needed to get her story off of her chest—but she felt like she needed to do something to show that she understood.

“<Food and shelter were provided, even back then, but I still required money. And the gems I had saved during our adventure-filled days dwindled faster than I anticipated. By the time my funds became critical, I was ready to reset my first class and my second was not too far off. Thankfully, this meant that I was prepared to refocus on trying to find something that I could actually do. I might have wanted change, but acquiring funds was a more immediate necessity.

“<One of the many applications and offers I made was a letter sent to a [Merchant] that was seeking apprentices. I mentioned to you previously that he required essays from everyone that sought his tutelage, and now I shall tell you the contents of that essay—it was a product of my formless fury. In it, I denounced the Unchanging Council and the structures of society that desired order and decorum above all else. I disparaged idle elves that were so arrogant and self-centered that they turned a blind eye to the woes of youth. At the time, I earnestly believed that youthful naivety contained something truly unique that could better our world; something that the timeless ancients that lead our society sorely lacked.>” One of Avyna’s hands began to wander in Ranthia’s direction, though it was swiftly noticed and banished into her short, colorful hair.

“<And that was how you got roped into… whatever it was that I interrupted?>” Ranthia ventured a guess. Her own hands were far better behaved—they remained at her sides without trying to reach out.

“<Exactly, my lo… Well, anyway, the essay should have condemned me to centuries of unemployment, yet I found myself seated before Golthendis within days of submitting it. He asked me numerous questions, each meant to probe the depth of my anger. And at the end of that interview, I became his apprentice. Under his tutelage, I came to learn about what I know as the great machination: a plan to undermine the Unchanging Council’s authority. He described it as the groundwork to see them eventually replaced. The origin of the great machination was intentionally obscured, but it is easy enough to follow the plan’s logic backwards through time. Those that created the original plans knew that their actions would be monitored and treated with suspicion, therefore they found other people to inherit their will through nothing more than specific pieces of the plan. Each of these pieces likely promised nothing more than a trivial bit of damage to the Unchanging Council’s reputation, but when taken together, they would seed doubt in the Unchanging Council’s abilities and damage its relationship with the Wardens and the handful of named families that retain their power.

“<From my master, I inherited the task of becoming a [Merchant] worthy of the Ilan family’s trust. In doing so, I would gain the opportunity to steal one of their precious generational starters and deliver the young plants to the Council’s greatest enemies. Just as the machination demanded, he taught me what he knew, prepared everything that he could, and… paved the way for my independence. So long as nothing went wrong, I would be the one to carry out our aspect of the great machination. I was proud of that.>” Avyna was plainly doing her best to control her tone and her expression, but there were just too many emotions tied up in her memories.

Gods and goddesses, Ranthia wished more than anything that she could truly be surprised. A group of unsatisfied elves found the most vulnerable youths they could and radicalized them into zealots, giving them a target to blame for their suffering and the means to make them pay. Which was the exact same thing Remus did with its own propaganda, to keep stuffing fresh bodies into its blood-soaked Legions. Much like the shimagu, Ranthia had no doubt that the Unchanging Council had committed grievous offenses throughout its long tenure, but she honestly didn’t know enough to judge whether or not elven society would be served by its removal.

After all, from her perspective, the Tympestshard Council was practically a utopia. Sure, it was imperfect in myriad ‘little’ ways, but no one starved in the streets. She never witnessed mothers desperately begging for a single iron coin so their child might have a chance to survive. And there weren’t any slaves toiling in irons or dying for their nation’s ambitions. Sure, there were tensions with the nation of devils, but there was no ongoing war. In contrast, Remus seemed unable to exist without fighting a war against its neighbors. First came the conflict with Laconia, long before Ranthia was ever reborn. Then came generations of struggle against the seemingly unceasing formorians—until Remus, at last, wiped them out. The war against the shimagu was the only one that Ranthia had ever taken part in, but she knew that Khazad would inevitably be Remus’ next target. …A war that was likely underway, even as she stood there in her comfortable home.

Aside from her darker thoughts, there was another—smaller—part of Ranthia that was struggling against an entirely different reaction: the ridiculous urge to laugh! Seriously, Avyna was just as much of a revolutionary as Ranthia’s first girlfriend was! Well, a less bloodthirsty one, at least, but for the love of Xaoc, were rebellious women just her type or something?! Even the brief-lived fling she had with Nona back when she was with Ranger Team 6 was another clear example. And while there’d never been anything untoward between her and Vert, she’d been quite fond of the little miscreant. Gods, there was a chance that Hexara was the only woman she’d ever loved that wasn’t outright rebellious and indignant about the status quo!

…Hexara, who worked at a shop ran by women, even before Remus accepted that women could have rights.

Okay, fine, maybe she did have a type. A bit of chaos was necessary in any romance, after all.

“<You’re more than your past.>” Ranthia offered the first thing that came to mind once she finally noticed Avyna’s vulnerable silence.

Ugh, that was a terrible line! There was a very important moment in her life that was happening without her, and she couldn’t seem to keep a single thought focused.

“

“<But in some ways, perhaps those unforgivable acts are the least of my crimes. The worst thing that I ever did… Well, I had some downtime until the Ilan family’s final selection, so I decided to spend a few idle decades within a safe area near a certain war zone. My people had some measure of involvement in the conflict, but it was only to provide a playground for the young. Still, I was confident that it would be a good place to make a few gems while I waited. Fruit was an easy enough product to offer at a competitive price while I obtained information that I could sell or use to recoup the gems I had expended throughout my preparations. But in truth, I hoped to find a far grander prize than mere currency: there was a chance that I might find a young mortal that seized eternity. Someone that had no idea what it meant. Or, if I might be blunt: someone that might part with potentially invaluable favors in exchange for nothing of import.

“<Fortune favored me, as you might recall. I found a human, a young woman that was plainly taken with me. She was careless with her secrets as well; it only took a few conversations before she inadvertently revealed her immortality. And even better, she was damaged. Prisms, even at the time, I felt like it was almost too easy to manipulate her. Though there was one obstacle—she seemingly assumed that I was beyond her reach, which made her remarkably stubborn about acknowledging my efforts to return her initial interest. I was forced to be shameless and direct, but I got what I wanted in the end.

“<After that, all I truly had to do to earn her favor was to wait for a single year. It was a simple thing to do after waiting well over a millennium for my true ambitions to come to fruition. Of course, I was never the kind of woman that would leave anything important to mere chance. I doted on her, yes, but behind the scenes I did everything in my power to make her mine. I called in an old friend and asked him to speak words that would give her hope and comfort. I even planned to sacrifice ‘face’ with the trading house that I had spent most of my life with, just to make her feel indebted to me. Admittely, that specific plan went somewhat awry. Still, everything else went exactly as I hoped. I became the perfect woman that she desperately wanted. And I did it, just to manipulate her into giving me what I truly desired.>” Avyna offered Ranthia a broad smile as she concluded her confession. It was a darker expression than any that Ranthia had seen on her face—arrogance and self-loathing twisted into a hollow mockery of her true smile. It wasn’t a smile; it was a desperate plea for a reprisal.

Had Ranthia been the type of woman that slapped people, she might have given in to the temptation. Unfortunately, she wasn’t—she was the kind of woman that punched.

And she was done hurting the people she loved. Never again.

“you do not get to decide who I love, Avyna! For Xaoc’s sake, stop trying to drive me away. I’m not going anywhere! Did you really think I’d give a damn if you had ulterior motives when you first approached me?! I was captivated by your beauty more than anything and, if you ask me, lust is hardly any better than greed. Did you really think I kept coming back for pears? Sure, they’re delicious, but I don’t even have any in my home right now—they’re just not that important to me!

“Just as you did with me. You expect me to condemn you for your greed, but in the end, you never asked me for a single favor. In fact, you warned me about the word—and then you forced it out of my lexicon!

“<We’ve both done terrible things that we aren’t proud of. Fine. Whatever. What even is life other than a list of the fuckups that we make along the way? Because we learn from them. Besides, I know you. You aren’t evil. And you aren’t half as irredeemable as you think you are. By Xaoc, you clearly regret what you did while you lived under a misplaced sense of necessity. You were given a task. You tried your best to carry it out.

“<And then came me.>” Ranthia punctuated her final words by stepping closer and reaching for Avyna’s hands.

And, after a moment of hesitation, Avyna reciprocated the gesture. For the first time in far too long, they joined hands. That wondrously familiar warmth truly had been absent from Ranthia’s life for far too long.

She wasn’t going to let it slip away ever again. Not while she had any say in the matter.

“<…I asked you to call me Sylphene.>” Avyna belatedly protested, blushing like the shy maiden that she absolutely wasn’t.

“<I’m afraid I’m still in love with you. Gemheart.>” Ranthia grinned at her own cheekiness.

“<Prisms, how will this even work? All of my preparations have been to bring me here!>” Avyna’s eyes were growing increasingly watery with every heartbeat—timed exactly to Ranthia’s own.

“<Mmm, in my expert opinion, I believe that we should begin with a kiss. We can work everything else out as it comes.>” Ranthia shamelessly leaned forward, brimming with newfound confidence.

“<That is rather reckless. …But perhaps you are the wiser woman.>” Avyna smiled uncertainly, yet she met Ranthia’s lips halfway.

It was hardly the fiery, passionate kiss that Ranthia had envisioned for their reunion. Instead, it was tentative and uncertain, in a way that even their earliest kisses had never been. But even still, it was easily one of the most emotional kisses that Ranthia had ever experienced.

It felt like a promise.

“<I… I am so sorry that I lied to you, my love. I was terrified, but I convinced myself that my actions would benefit you. I know that you have no reason to trust me again, but I do know how to fix this.>” Avyna was the first to pull away, speaking into the silence that she created. “”

“<Gemheart, seriously—no. If you make a System-enforced vow that involves me in any way, I will find a way to disappear beyond your ability to find me. Our relationship has to be between us. No gods, no restriction Skills. Us. Because if you give away your agency in our relationship, neither of us will ever be truly comfortable together. And fuck that.>” Ranthia growled.

Her hands had been perfectly cozy in Avyna’s, but no. She was forced to free one of them, just to jam it over her beloved’s face to prevent an idiotic mistake. Seriously, wasn’t she supposed to be the hopelessly naïve one in their relationship?!

“<My love, how can I ever ask you to trust me again without taking extreme measures? More than anything, I spent the years since we reunited in that terrible moment desperately wishing for the ability to start things over with you. To do things properly. To truly be the woman that you deserve. But this is nothing more than my selfishness.>” The tears that had been building in her elven eyes finally broke confinement and began to run, trailing over her layers of cosmetics with surprisingly little damage left in their wake. Ranthia’s own lips had done more to smudge it than the increasingly numerous tears.

“

“needed to trust you completely, with everything. But that was just me putting you on a pedestal. My sessions with Aellea taught me that much. And… Gemheart, I’ll be blunt: I think you’re trying to do the same thing now with me.

“<Neither of us are perfect. But here’s where his advice comes in—those rare people in your life that you truly can trust one hundred percent don’t start out that way. Those that you can share anything and everything with also make mistakes. Trust grows and develops over time. All I ask of you is to prove yourself trustworthy day by day. We’ll get there again eventually. For now, I know that I love you and I know that you love me. That was real. And that’s more than enough to give you another chance. Just as you did for me, after I hit you.>” Ranthia moved her free hand to Avyna’s cheek, caressing it through the layers of cosmetics.

“<Thank you, my love…>” Avyna nuzzled her cheek against Ranthia’s hand. “<It truly was worth enduring Brastille’s abuses for almost half a year, just to get here a bit sooner.>”

“<Yeah, okay, I’ve got to ask. How in Xaoc’s eternal glory did you manage to convince anyone that you were young?! The way you talk already strains credulity, but you’re level 1029!>” And Ranthia wasn’t the least bit jealous that Avyna had leveled significantly beyond her—again—during their time apart.

For all she loved Clover, their [Companion Bond] really was holding her back while the bulk of her progression continued to flow through it to her scholarly bunny.

“<…Your [Divine-Touched Identify] truly is terrifying, my love. I spent almost every gem I obtained while we were absent from one another’s lives on this.>” Avyna turned her head to reveal the arcanite-studded bit of silver clasped atop her left ear, mostly obscured by her horn. “<It is Dungeon-made, and yet you still see right through its enchantments. Rest assured, everyone else sees me as a level 514 [Artisan].”>

Okay, yeah, she needed to catch her Gemheart up on some of the changes to her Skills, but that could wait for another day.

“” She was one hundred and ninety-six already, after all!

“<Two hundred and forty-seven.>” Avyna answered with a confident grin—she never forgot that Ranthia preferred older women.

For a moment, they enjoyed a companionable silence as they stared into one another’s eyes. There were other questions and other conversations that they needed to share, but nothing else felt more important than the moment that they had put off for far too long.

And then, in unison, despite there being no clear signal to trigger the change, they moved. Simultaneously, they embraced one another as their lips once again pressed together. The kiss was no longer tentative or uncertain, each poured everything that she’d held back into it. Every bit of passion, every wisp of affection, and every burning need that had simmered within their hearts and bodies throughout the decades.

Ranthia’s mistweave tunic couldn’t be torn, but Avya made her best effort to do so as she tried to reach her beloved’s bare skin. Meanwhile, Ranthia had managed to finesse one hand into Avyna’s shimmersilk trousers while her other tugged at her Gemheart’s shirt and vest from the back.

But it was Avyna that tipped them forward—backward, from Ranthia’s point of view—and sent them crashing to the floor. Not that the impact interrupted either of them. Even the chain bundled under the small of Ranthia’s back wasn’t enough to bother her as she desperately sought her long-absent lover. Almost nothing could have stopped her.

“Avyna, I presume?”

Almost nothing.