There were moments, few and short, where Edea would reach out and take hold of Agnès' hand and cling close, burying her face in the vestal's arm. Agnès always allowed these moments. Sometimes she wondered why someone as outgoing as Edea, who normally was very proud and open with her affections, would make such tiny gestures, but she did not pry.
It was when they were curled up in one bed, just about ready to fall asleep, that Edea faced Agnès suddenly and touched her face. "Pretty Agnès."
Agnès leaned into the touch, acknowledging it.
"Brave Agnès," Edea said, smiling. She then ran a finger down Agnès' arm. "Strong Agnès."
Agnès was too tired to remark on this series of compliments, but she made a pleased noise. Edea shifted so they were touching foreheads. After a moment of quiet, she said softly, "My Agnès?"
Agnès did not like the idea of being loved being equated to owned, but this sleepy little question did not seem to imply that. Edea would never think that way. Rather, it seemed to have something to do with an…allegiance, perhaps. Agnès was much too sleepy to ponder the particulars, but nuzzled her partner and said, "Yes."
The two of them fell asleep with smiles on their faces.