HERE WE GO LADS GET EXCITED
Chapter 21 - Fiyr
It's not easy to drape flowers on beams with a couple gashes in one's stomach, but I'm doing my best. Yllowei patched me up, in any case, so I'm sure I'll be fine. Probably.
The members of the court that are in good enough condition to be up and about are all decorating the throne room and dining hall for Flowerstar's Day. With the rising tensions between kingdoms and knowing Braukkin was still on the loose, I forgot the holiday was coming, but now I see the queen's wisdom; celebration of new life is just what the court needs. The battle with Braukkin and his tyrants was barely a week ago and everyone's recovering.
Decorating for the festival is significantly less fun without Graie or Samn, though. Graie's off in some corner ignoring me (as usual) and Samn is nowhere to be found. I assume Samn's preparing for his knighting ceremony but after what Graie said to me in the healer's wing, I thought things were going to change between he and I. Looks like I was wrong. I would give my life for you. Was he just saying he'd follow the knight's code and protect Thundria, even at the cost of his life?
Still, I can't shake the feeling that the battle changed something between us. He saved my life when Clehw was going to… I flinch involuntarily at the memory of his burn-scarred face looming over me, claws glinting as my vision fuzzed. Graie's shout. Clehw's blood arcing through the air, the thud of his body and the hollow knock of his head hitting the ground…
Even after what he said in the queen's chambers, months ago. Even though it's like a knife lodged in my back and I know he needs to apologize… I still just want him to come back.
"You gonna hang those up or do I have to do it for you?" Lady Fyrra demands.
I grit my teeth and throw a garland of daisies over one of the rafters. Now that Sir Fiace's body has been hauled away and dumped into an unmarked grave, and the blood's been scrubbed from the stones, the room's beginning to look festive. It's just me, Lady Fyrra, Lady Flourer, and Lady Fuor on decorating; half the court's out collecting flower harvests from the villages. Lady Flourer is definitely carrying our team, although that's pretty much expected. If you have flower summoning, Flowerstar's Morn is your one-day-a-year time.
Samn and Duss are probably getting ready for their knight ceremonies, Graie's... somewhere, and Cindra and Yllowei are holed up in the healer's wing dealing with the aftermath of the injuries people sustained in last week's battle.
"Take a break, I'll deal with the rest of this," Lady Fyrra orders, staring grimly at the piles of flowers we're supposed to be laying around the room like they're a patrol of enemy knights.
"Alright. Thanks," I add as an afterthought and leave her to wrangle the unruly daisies. My feet turn toward the healer's wing almost instinctively. When I arrive, it's actually mostly deserted; just Lady Tiall, Yllowei, and Cindra.
"Hey," Cindra mumbles when I come in. She's sitting on the chair by Yllowei's desk and staring down at a piece of paper in front of her. Yllowei is cleaning a gash in Speikall's side.
"Hey!" I answer, infusing my voice with more brightness than I feel to make up for her lack of enthusiasm. Cindra continues to stare into the paper's depths.
"There. Don't strain that side," Yllowei grunts and waves the lady off. "Let me know if you think it's getting infected."
"Haven't really gotten a chance to talk to you since the battle…" I begin tentatively, trying to gauge Cindra's mood. "What's going on?"
"Been busy," she answers and picks up a new piece of paper. Far as I can tell, they're blank. She shuffles them.
"You missed all the excitement in the battle, huh?" I ask, hoping to relax some of the tension that's settling like an unwanted guest and getting the opposite result for my troubles. "What's wrong?"
She looks up at me, forehead creased and eyes shining with tears. "I'm useless. I couldn't fight, I had to sit out here and listen to you all shout. It was awful."
"Oh, no, no, come here." I fold her in a hug and press her head to my chest as she sniffles. "You're not useless! Fighting isn't the only way to help the court. And in any case, you shouldn't need to be useful. Just being you is enough."
"Hey! Are you demoralizing my assistant?" Yllowei demands, hobbling over. "She's been terribly helpful and if you turn her into a mopey mess, I'll send you to an early grave!"
A surprised laugh bursts out of me at the threat. Cindra giggles as well through her sniffling. "I wasn't doing anything!"
"I'll have you know that Goldanna Flourer nearly bled out right here. If it hadn't been for Cindra's life-force and her quick thinking, she might have died," Yllowei informs me. "I would never have thought to use cinders to cauterize her injury like that."
"You… huh?" I pull away from Cindra, puzzled.
Cindra shrugs modestly. "I read some of the books Lady Fennen keeps around here when I was laid up, healing, and I dunno, guess I picked up something."
"Never would've thought… well, I always figured your—or our life-force couldn't be used to heal," I marvel aloud. "Huh. Cauterizing."
Yllowei nods gruffly. "So if you put her down in the dumps again, I'll—"
"Yeah, I get it," I interrupt, not interested in her colourful threat.
Yllowei harrumphs and shuffles off. "Old witch," Cindra mutters affectionately.
I give Cindra another quick hug then pull back and give her a once-over. "You're healthy. You're going to live and you can walk, and everyone at court loves you. That's what matters."
Cindra elbows me. "Alright, you big sap, quit it."
Tears fill my eyes. I try to blink them away, half-embarrassed at the response, and resist the urge to squeeze the guts out of her in another hug. I opt for a little pat on the shoulder instead.
"I'll see you at the ceremony," Cindra tells me, shooing me.
I give her a wave on my way out, buoyed by love for my difficult ex-squire. It's amazing that a battle is what's making me notice what's been in front of me the whole time. Cindra and Yllowei hard at work, the memory of Samn's ridiculous battle cry last week when the outlaw he was fighting got his sword stolen and turned against him, Graie's words… I swallow. Maybe that last one still needs some time to come around.
And where's Samn for the Starlaxi's sake? I know he's gotta get ready for his ceremony, but surely he could deign to appear before the peasants of the court? We haven't talked much since… the battle. Or more precisely, the events directly preceding the battle. My cheeks flush and I dismiss the memories like someone at court will catch me if I think about them too much. There's nothing to catch! Just two knights of appropriate ages… spending some alone time. Together.
I just want to talk to him. He seemed so… skittish. Like we were doing something wrong. Maybe he had a gut feeling that Graie was going to almost-catch us, but it seemed like it was more than that… like he was hesitant. Worrying over every little detail hasn't made me more at ease with what happened.
The throne room's looking good, at least. The bright splash of the flowers livens up the washed out gray of the stone. It looks like when I was in the healer's wing, nearly all the patrols returned. I'm relieved to see Graie amongst them; he was just out on patrol, not visiting the Rivien knight. Not that I expected that he was but… I worried. I worry about it a lot, actually, no matter how 'over' our friendship is.
I spot Duss in the crowd and blink. Wait, if he's here, then is Samn out here too? But no, even as I continue scanning the group of knights and children alike, that strawberry-blonde head is nowhere to be found. So what's going on? Is he planning something?
The queen emerges from her private chambers and strides around the throne to stand in the middle of the dais, sceptre in hand. She's wearing a heavy-looking greenish-blue ceremonial gown that catches the light as she surveys the court, a reminder of the importance of the occasion.
"Let all of the court that have demonstrated their life-force gather for a court meeting!" Queen Bluelianna calls, not bothering to use the amulet that amplifies her voice as the whole court is already amassed. Samn doesn't produce himself from any crevice of the castle.
The crowd falls silent and Duss pushes to the front but doesn't climb the dais.
"Last week, valiant members of this court defended our home and kept it from the clutches of the tyrant king and his outlaws," she declares. "Fiyr Harte and Graie Sterrip, as the only knights in the castle, I would like to honour you." She pauses and the court's eyes turn to me and over to my left where Graie must be. Pointedly apart from me. I can't tell if anyone notices. "I would also like to emphasize that Thundria would be no more if it had not been for the courage of our fearless ladies of the court, Goldanna Flourer, Speikall Tiall, Frostialla Fuor, and, of course, Brindellia Faise. Our squires Sewif and Brakken have also proved themselves. But most of all, this has given cause for a ceremony that has been long overdue."
Overdue and missing one of the key people in it, I think, craning my neck and still trying to catch a glimpse of Samn through the crowd.
"Duss and Samn," she announces.
That's when the door to the queen's chamber opens and something happens that doesn't make any sense.
Samn walks out, but... it's not Samn. This not-Samn is wearing a ceremonial gown like the queen's, but a paler green colour, like mint, the thick fabric sweeping across the stone dais like a breeze. His hair is tied up in some kind of up-do that is letting little curly strands hang down, framing his face, though his eyes are the same sharp olive they've ever been. As he nears the queen, I'm noticing other little details. His lips look coloured, his chest looks… like a sheet was crumpled up and squeezed under the dress. Or to be direct, as though he grew breasts overnight.
Samn looks like a woman.
The court erupts into whispers around me. I catch snippets—Why is he—that's not—is he—but I can't focus on much of anything. Not-Samn's eyes catch mine in the crowd and the bastard has the audacity to grin. I'm proud of myself for not fainting on the spot as those pinkened lips quirk up like we're in on a joke together.
"Duss and Samn," the queen repeats, raising her hand for silence, though I swear a ghost of a smile flickers across her face. Samn practically glides to her left side and Duss scrambles up the steps of the dais, the elegance of his clean uniform and combed hair undercut slightly by the fact that his mouth is hanging open.
The queen doesn't bother with the question to the mentors of the squires that is customary; everyone and their grandmother have known that Duss and Samn were ready to be full knights a long time ago.
"Duss, do you promise to live by the knight's code and protect and defend the great kingdom of Thundria, to defend and lay down your life for the court, until your final breath?" she asks, and puts her hand on the pommel of Winter's Wrath.
"I—I do," Duss stammers, his eyes still flicking past her to Samn, who is staring straight ahead serenely.
"Then I, Queen Bluelianna Star, ruler of the kingdom of Thundria, by the powers of the Starlaxi, give your full knight name. Duss, for your honesty and bravery, I name you for pelt."
He nods, kneeling and waiting for her to finish Samn's ceremony and give him his new name, though he can't seem to stop glancing up at Samn in confusion. I'm having a hard time looking away from him either.
"Samn, do you promise to live by the knight's code and protect and defend the great kingdom of Thundria, to defend and lay down your life for the court, until your final breath?" the queen asks.
Samn gazes at the queen steadily and dips his head. The little locks of hair swing as he does and I can't help finding them terribly distracting. "I do." His voice hasn't changed at least; he still sounds like he had gravel for lunch.
"Then I, Queen Bluelianna Star, ruler of the kingdom of Thundria, by the powers of the Starlaxi, give your full knight name. Samn, for your courage and spirit, I name you for storm." The queen gives him a firm nod. Samn kneels as well, tugging the skirts out of the way awkwardly as he does to let him make it to the ground.
Queen Bluelianna turns back to Duss and unsheathes Winter's Wrath. "Rise, Sir Duss Peyelt."
Then she turns.
"Rise, Lady Samn Schorme. Serve your kingdom with all your strength. Rise."
I choke loudly. I think the ground is tilting under my feet. Lady? Maybe she misspoke. Maybe Samn wore a dress and put his hair up like that and painted his lips and grew breasts by accident—
But Samn's turning to the court now and all eyes are pinned to him. Her? No one's chanting the new knights' names.
"You know me," he starts. She starts. We are silent, watching, and waiting for an explanation for the appearance of this stranger before us. "Samn, son of the late captain of the guard, Redde Tayle and Lady Brindellia Faise. I've eaten beside you, patrolled beside you, and fought beside you my entire life. I've also lied to you."
The court is silent. Waiting for an explanation.
"Before I was born, my parents decided something. That I would be raised as a boy, whether or not I was born one," Samn continues, eyes roving over the court and taking in each disbelieving face. "That they would give me the same chance that is given to a boy born into a court. Queen Bluelianna and Spottalia Lief, may she rest in the Starlaxi, knew, along with a few members of my family, but from all else it was kept a secret."
I glance to my sides, taking in their expressions. Whit Strommer seems like he might be paralyzed with shock. Goldanna Flourer's face is unreadable.
"I didn't mean this as a deception. But there would be certain… expectations placed on me if you had all known I was a girl. And with the help of my parents and the queen, I dodged all that, but I don't want to keep the charade up forever. It's my choice to come out with it now," Samn emphasizes, giving the court a meaningful look, "and I hope you all won't treat me differently because of it. I still want to eat beside you, patrol beside you, and fight beside you, for the rest of my life. To serve Thundria. Now let's celebrate Flowerstar's Day together!"
But that sudden uptilt in tone isn't going to do anything against the stares trained on… her. Samn glances at the queen, but she's no help, simply surveying the court like she's waiting to see how they'll react. Samn turns back to the court and to my half-horror and half-something I can't quite put a name to, her eyes land on me.
"There were instruments that were going to be played, I believe?" Samn calls, then glances back at me.
With that same little grin, she turns and after a moment of what I'm sure is staged deliberation, plucks a flower out of the bushels arranged by the queen's throne and walks to the edge of the dais. My cheeks are flaming, I know they are, but all the same, I can't help passing through the crowd toward… Samn.
As I reach out to take the rose (of course it's a bloody rose) from Samn, I realize two things in rapid succession.
First, I think I'm in love with Samn Schorme, girl, boy, knight, lady, whoever.
Second, Whit Strommer is most certainly not paralyzed with shock, because at that exact moment, he lets out a piercing whistle.
As if it's their cue, the music starts. Speikall Tiall is responsible for it, of course, the melody coming from the air, though Rynnin Wynnd has gotten his hands on a set of drums somehow and is tapping away on them with admirable… enthusiasm.
I'm not too focused on the music though, because Samn's breathless smile and reveal have driven most everything else from my mind. The music seems to have snapped the tension in the room and people begin to split off into dance partners. Only about half the court is staring at Samn now.
"So…" I manage.
She spins me and I stumble.
"Sorry, do you usually lead?" she offers awkwardly as I regain my balance.
"No—just—uh, unexpected." I stare at her. "Hey, also, what the fuck?"
Samn blinks, then laughs. "Sorry—sorry, I'm just a bit nervous. Um. I'm sorry I didn't tell you?"
His—her voice tilts up at the end like it's a question. Like she's testing to see if she needs to apologize. I shake my head, half-dazed. "I'm not mad, just…"
"Disappointed?" she fills in. 'She' rings like a discordant note in my head.
'She' is dresses, needlework, music, flowers, soft voices, children, and warmth. 'She' is Princesca and the ladies of the court.
'Samn' is bulls-eyes, glass, sharp eyes, lean forearms, smirks and scowls, and occasionally very soft lips.
They don't exactly fit together.
"Not disappointed!" I argue, snapping back to reality. "Confused. Very confused."
Samn shrugs. "About what?"
"You're a switched-soul?" I squint at her. I know about them; one of Princesca's friends was one. She thought she was a boy until we were ten, and then explained to us she was actually a girl. Is Samn the same? But that doesn't make sense. She said her parents hid her gender. How could they have known?
She shakes her head. "No, no. I was born a girl."
I nearly trip over my own feet when Samn spins me again. "Okay. Um. Okay."
"I don't feel any different," she tells me, shrugging a bit as we move across the room in time to the music. "Why do you?"
"You're a girl," I mumble.
"Fiyr, I'm almost twenty-one. I'm a woman."
Now that makes me blush an even deeper shade. I believe the particular colour is called sunburnt beet.
"Okay—uh—okay, you're… um." My tongue isn't cooperating. "Never kissed a girl."
"You have, actually," Samn teases. Now that's familiar; that glint in his eyes. In her eyes. Well, this is going to take some getting used to. "Why? Was that a request?"
I avoid stumbling and hurriedly change the subject. "You didn't tell me."
"I didn't tell anyone," she answers simply, but nods and takes a deep breath, glancing past me. "I'm sorry. There were times when I really did want to, believe me."
A hundred little memories come back to me. "Your secret."
"My secret. It's out now, I guess." She shrugs, feigning being carefree.
"What's wrong?"
She blinks and looks down. "Things are going to change. I don't want them to, but I feel like… like people need to know the truth."
Samn delivers the last word with a dose of sarcasm that gives me pause. "Why'd you say it like that? Are you not a girl?"
It would be… a relief, though I hate to say it. Even with the dress, and the hair, and everything, looking into Samn's eyes, I see the boy I've spent a great deal of time falling in love with. It's comforting, certain. Girl. That's anything but. That's unfamiliar territory. I can't square the dress, the lips, hair, everything with the Samn I know. Even under all the feminine dress-up, he looks like the boy I know.
"I—I don't know," Samn admits. "I don't feel like a girl. But I don't even know how to be a girl."
"I guess you don't want to spend all your time in the nursery with the babies," I offer.
Samn gives me a look of sheer terror I can't help a laugh. "Just kidding, kidding."
"But that's the thing! What's everyone going to expect from me now? Just because I—I dunno, I'm… shaped different," she exclaims and I tactfully keep my eyes on her face, "doesn't mean I'm any different than who I was! What changed?"
"Nothing, I guess." I shrug. "Yeah. Nothing. You're still Samn, just shaped different, like you said. Uh. Why'd you wear a dress?"
Samn rolls her eyes. "Mum's idea. Stupid thing. It's itchy."
"I think it looks nice," I offer.
"Yeah well, I think it looks like I'm wearing a patch of grass, but thanks for your input." That's familiar.
I laugh. Samn continues muttering and picking at the dress, but her cheeks pink. We spin again and this time I'm ready. The song ends and a new one picks up; this time, Speikall Tiall raises her voice to add to the melody. This one's pace is quicker, and it only takes a few moments before I've stepped on Samn's foot and nearly fallen over.
"What are you doing?" she laughs.
"Dancing—shit," I inform her, crashing directly into her when I step forward instead of back on the down beat. "Are you okay?"
Samn continues to step forward and back, swaying in time to the music without missing a single beat. How? Even in the dress that she's clearly unfamiliar with, she manages to stay on the rhythm far better than I do.
"You don't have some secret stashed in your room that lets you dance better, I suppose?" I grumble.
"Nope, no dart board for this," Samn laughs, glancing down as I misstep and catch the hem of the pale mint dress. "I, er, had… lessons."
"When?!" I demand. "Is this why the queen was delaying your ceremony?"
"Not… exactly. We had them together," she tells me and I blink.
"I think I would've remembered."
"Simple sparring."
"Huh?"
Samn laughs as I stumble again and pulls me back on balance. Strong. I chide myself for being surprised. What would have changed that?
"Simple sparring, Fiyr, one forward and one back. One attacks, and one defends, then you switch," she reminds me and I flash back to the scuffles on the dirt. "I attack…"
She steers me forward and then spins me again. I stay on the beat by some miracle of the Starlaxi.
"While you defend. Then you advance…" And I step forward at the same time as she steps back, blowing the strands of hair out of her eyes as she goes. Even with the distraction, we pause at the right moment, then she steps forward again and we move in time to Sir Wynnd's overenthusiastic drumming.
"Holy shit," I mumble.
"Magical, isn't it?" She laughs. My happy daze freezes for a moment when I realize something.
"Your laugh." I can't manage much more than that. The laugh in question fades and Samn blinks.
"What?"
This time, I can't help a half-confused laugh. That's not what it sounds like. Every laugh I've heard out of Samn is the same gruff chuckle. This laughter is high and bright like a bell. More feminine.
"What did you do to disguise yourself, anyway?" I ask, hurriedly dismissing her furrowed brow over the laughter comment.
"You know," she answers. I don't look down.
"No, like what else?"
"Why, thinking of becoming a girl?" She grins. I colour.
"Uh, well, no, I just—"
Samn shrugs. "You could pull it off. Your dainty little nose and baby face? For sure."
My nose is dainty? "Could not! I mean—whatever. I was just curious about the little stuff. Like… I noticed your laugh is different."
The last comment is hesitant, and as I suspected, she frowns. "What about it?"
"Nothing, it's… it's just different. Nice. Different."
Samn shrugs. "Dunno. My laugh. My hair. Sometimes my voice, even. I don't sing."
I blink. "Hadn't noticed."
"Not many opportunities to sing anyway. With Lady Tiall around… the competition is too fierce," she jokes.
I laugh and become suddenly aware of my own mannerisms. My laugh doesn't exactly sound manly either, though. I've always sounded like a giggly twelve-year-old, even after my voice dropped. I don't sing either. What was it he—she said about h—her hair?
"What's different about your hair?"
"I can't put it up very far," she tells me. "Er… couldn't, I guess. Now I can go bald and the whole damn court will still know." She snorts and I can't tell if she's upset or not. "I put my hair up high once, just to see. I didn't even leave my nook; the whole court would've figured me out instantly."
I'm not sure about that; her hair's in what I think is just an elaborate bun with a little let down on either side and she still looks like Samn. But of course, now I want to see her put her hair up high. I file that thought under 'don't tell her, you'll die of embarrassment'.
"Huh," I say instead.
"I wanted to keep it long, even though Brindellia said it was too feminine. Spottalia took my side," Samn recalls with a smile.
Spottalia. "So she was in on it too, I guess…" I shake my head, banishing the memories. "Hey, did Lady Fennen know?"
"Of course." Samn laughs and shakes her head. "I still remember… after we met and we were riding out to Vide to recruit the Shodawes elders, do you remember? Well, she asked me straight-up why everyone thought I was a boy."
"Old witch," I quote, laughing.
"Yeah, exactly. I damn near had a heart attack, but she must've understood enough to not out me to the court." She shrugs. "Made some things easier."
"What things?"
Samn grins. "You want to know?"
I feel worried.
"Actually, that's something you might remember. Our first journey to the silver peaks?" she asks. I nod, remembering the journey. And how much Samn and I were bickering. Blessed Starlaxi, why did we waste so much time with all that? "When I threw up, it wasn't because we'd been riding. It was because my cycles started."
My eyes widen. "Oh no. Did you get cramps, too?"
She nods grimly. I wince sympathetically. "Sir Cawle nearly found me out. Speaking of which, I need to go threaten him."
"You—"
Samn pulls away and gives me an awkward little wave. "Well… uh, talk more later. Bye."
"Okay," I agree, still a little blindsided by her sudden withdrawal. I look around the courtroom, taking in the celebration. Speikall's changed to a new song at a point when I wasn't paying attention and everyone is spinning around in pairs save for the aforementioned captain of the guard and the queen, who stand off to the side of the room and speak in low, quick tones. I can't exactly ask one of them to dance, and everyone else seems occupied.
A little snort of laughter escapes me when I catch a glimpse of Duss and Graie dancing together, both of them looking terribly displeased to find themselves in the situation. Duss is surprisingly graceful, and Graie is keeping up, so if it weren't for their matching scowls, they'd make an excellent pair. Oh, well.
I leave the floor of the throne room to go off to the edge where the hallways leading to other parts of the castle are and spot Cindra, sitting by the healer's wing. I walk over and sit on the floor next to her.
"Well, well, well." She sounds awfully amused by something. I elbow her.
"Shush."
"Nice dance moves."
I redden and elbow her again. "Thanks for your input. I didn't see you up there."
Cindra gives me a look. It's almost like a warning, but I shake my head, ignoring the message. She's going to celebrate too, or I'll become Yllowei's novitiate.
"C'mon! It'll be fun," I coax. Cindra's frown becomes more of a doubtful look, then shock when I jump to my feet, grab her hands, and pull her out of the chair. She yelps and loses her balance, but I pull her back onto her feet and start swaying to the music. Thankfully, it's a slower song now.
Cindra colours and follows my movements, bobbing from side to side. We can't really move much forward or backward because of her leg, but she manages a little step to the left, then back, and I join her in it, then do a mock spin on my own and she laughs.
Eventually, the song changes again to a much faster one and the court becomes a blur of Thundrian uniforms and ceremonial clothing that some people bothered changing into. Cindra huffs and collapses into her chair, still laughing a bit and red-cheeked with exertion.
"See! I knew it'd be fun!" I exclaim, high-fiving her, which she returns with a little eye-roll.
The court dances for a few more songs until Rynnin looks like he's going to pass out and Speikell steps down from the dais with the tell-tale glassy-eyed look of someone who stretched their life-force a little further than it could go.
We file into the dining room and an unlucky few are banished to the kitchen to bring out the food that half the court has been spending the day making. The tables are lined with puddings, steamed vegetables, roasted pork and glazed venison, and of course, bunches of flowers for decoration. I'm particularly proud of the daisies.
I sit with Samn, Cindra, Faern, Clowd, Sir Strommer, and Lady Faise. Lady Fennen, Queen Bluelianna, and Sir Cawle are seated further down along our table, which I guess is an honour for us, but it feels more like a punishment since all three of them are sitting in stony silence. Something's hanging over them, but whatever it is, I'm in too good of a mood to care. Even though I'm still reeling from Samn's revelation, I can't help thinking it doesn't mean much. So what if she's a girl? Should I be feeling betrayed? I understand why she did it.
Cindra is in high spirits as well after Yllowei's declaration in the healer's wing and she's chatting eagerly and laughing alongside Sir Strommer, whose cheeks have a tint that makes me think he's had more than a cup or two of the mulberry wine, of which a pitcher is set out on each table, and Brindellia Faise, who seems more relaxed than I've ever seen her. Faern and Clowd are on either side of her, both devouring their servings that Lady Faise carefully cut up for them and excitedly anticipating their own knighting ceremonies.
I help myself to a cup of the wine, which Cindra pretends to reach for when I set it down. Samn laughs and swats her hand away, then pours some elderflower-sweetened water into her cup.
"Thanks." Cindra sticks her tongue out at the new-minted knight.
"When you're older," Samn teases.
"Yllowei gave me some when I was healing!" Cindra protests.
"Is that true?" I turn to the healer, raising an eyebrow.
"To dull the pain!" she exclaims, exasperated, though seeming thankful to be distracted from the silent staring contest that Queen Bluelianna and Sir Cawle are engaging in. "Youngsters."
Cindra stifles a giggle with her cup of water and I can't help but smile as well. Samn exchanges a look with Sir Strommer, who seems to have taken Samn's revelation in stride. The wine may have helped.
We continue eating, drinking, and laughing long after it gets dark, until finally, the energy begins to fizzle out and little by little, the court heads to their rooms. Clowd and Faern are in bed by sunset, then the elders head away to their quarters, then Sewif is sent off by Lady Flourer, and finally, the knights leave for their rooms. I walk with Samn to the doors of the castle where she'll stand vigil with Duss.
"Thanks," she offers when we reach the entrance.
I smile awkwardly, not knowing what to say after everything. She saves me my trouble by giving me a light kiss and then pulling back with the same half-unsure smile.
"Have a good… vigil." I give her a little punch on the arm and we both relish in the almost-awkward giddiness before I turn away to head to bed. Even Graie pointedly ignoring me when I tell him goodnight can't spoil my good mood.
Just knowing that tomorrow will be another day with Samn, Samn Schorme now, and that, at least for now, we're at peace, makes me drift off to sleep the moment I'm secure under my sheets.
Thanks for reading chapter 12! Please follow and favourite this story and leave me a review with what you think!
~Akila