"Cheri-heika, would you mind terribly," Julia gestured to her ill-fitting dress. She had been trying for quite some time to situate the inordinate amount of cloth and fluff into a cohesive fit, but the material would simply not obey. She told herself it was simply a matter of needing an extra, non-attached set of hands and not a weakness of being blind. Besides, Cheri was her friend, and it would be foolish not to turn to her when in need of assistance. Such a trivial matter was hardly worth the energy she had expended considering it in the first place.
"Julia, that dress is just perfect for you! It is so rare to see you in such a vibrant color. You are usually in a shade of white or blue." Cheri's hands danced over the ruffles and trim, bringing them into place and tying it off in the appropriate places.
"Oh? I didn't think white had shades." The skilled healer had always found sighted people's attachment to color quite...informative. Without actually knowing what the colors themselves "looked" like she could get a good idea of the person she was talking to by the way they described color and which ones they preferred. Cheri's favorite color was red, and Julia could say with absolute certainty that it suited the woman.
Cheri's infectious laughter rang out as she pulled a stubborn piece of the violet gown. "No, I don't suppose it does."
Julia believed her favorite color to be white. She had heard it called many things—pure, clean, blank, cold, milky, but the best description was the one Cheri had given it.
White is what happens when everything is very still and calm in the early hours. It is before the animals wake and after the people have gone to rest. It is the silence that sparkles in the sky, watching over the world when we are alone and vulnerable—keeping us safe.
It was sadly rare to hear Cheri speak that way. More often than not she was bouncing through one engagement or another. She was the consummate hostess who loved the spotlight as much as she wished to hide from it.
Julia heard many things in the castle. So frequently, people forget a blind woman's hearing was every bit as sharp, if not more so, than their own. The way people spoke of Cheri was hard to deal with. The woman was beloved, but not admired. Her faith in Stoffel was, perhaps, more than it should have been. Julia could not deny this. But she still admired the woman. Cheri was so much stronger than other people gave her credit for. And there was a loneliness in her that called out to the loneliness in Julia. They were friends. They were kindred.
The blonde finished the final touches and then wrapped her arms around Julia's small waist, giving her a squeeze as her ample breasts pressed against her companion's back and her chin rested comfortably on her shoulder. "You look beautiful."
"Why thank you, Cheri-heika." Julia's hand folded up to gently touch the arms crossed in front of her.
"You are beautiful too." Cheri's voice had dropped to a soft breeze that floated over Julia's neck.
"Cheri-heika is very kind, and a very good friend."
Slowly, the maou turned Julia in her arms and the blind woman gave no resistance as she obeyed the guiding hands that trailed over her new dress and up her neck until a palm cupped her cheek gingerly. It was the first time their touch had been so intimate, but it did not feel strange or out of place. Cheri smelled sweetly of the blossoms she had been coaxing into new varieties in the garden. And her skin was as smooth as the finest silks. And she was warm—so warm—to the touch.
So, when she brought their mouths together Julia simply parted her lips and tilted her head to grant the other woman access. She tasted of white.
The moment was all they could have. Julia's fate lay elsewhere even if she had not been committed to a marriage already. And Cheri, well, Cheri would have a great many lovers but very few great loves. Still, the moment was something each of them would cherish long after many other memories had fallen away.