He considered both the tone in her voice and the way she was sitting. “I don’t want to press you. I want to understand.Before we get into that, though, may I ask something of particular personal interest?”
It got her turning back to him, raising one eyebrow and cocking her head. He rather liked what she was wearing today, particularly. It was, he suspected, another gown out of her aunt’s closet, this one a flowing plush velvet in a blue-purple he hadn’t seen her in yet. It had tiny seed pearls sewn along the edges, and each time Thessaly moved, they shifted and caught the light. But they did it subtly, as pearls did, not as a cut gem would, and he kept considering the difference. “Yes?”
“You’re beautiful.” It came out before he could think of it, and then he flushed. “I mean. The gown, your hair, the way you look in the firelight. All of it.”
It made her tilt her head further. “Thank you.” She made it something gentle, though there were layers he didn’t understand to how she said it. Then, a second later, she added, “That wasn’t a question, though. Definitely not an interrogative form.”
Vitus laughed. “No. I wanted to ask how you felt about solstice eve. About what we shared, what— oh, I’m saying this badly too.”
However badly he was stammering like a schoolboy, she didn’t turn away. She reached for his hand, curling her fingers through it. “Can you stay tonight? And if you can, would you?”
It was precise, like she was a mistress of ritual arts as well as duelling. Though perhaps in this, they weren’t so far apart. “Can, and I would be delighted to.” He’d packed spare clothes in his satchel. The sheer memory of a few nights ago, the prospect of being in her bed again, both made him react. She didn’t miss that, and that got even more of a rise out of him.
“You are the experienced one, of the two of us. You made that clear. Why on earth are you shy now?” Thessaly lifted her fingers of the hand that wasn’t holding his, her left. “I’m notasking about your before. Or rather, I’d like to know, but only if you’re comfortable telling me. It’s not the sort of thing that should be a demand, surely?”
“Some people would make it one.” Vitus let out a breath, and now he was the one looking at the fireplace. “Three other women, and all rather unlike you in specific ways. The second year of my apprenticeship, I became close with one of the colourmen’s daughters. She was apprenticing with her father. We both use stones, of course, though they take the leavings of the cutting and stones that can’t be polished, and all that. And they don’t need the gemstones, most of them.”
“But sometimes, for a magical pigment, you want just a touch of something - emerald, sapphire, ruby. Above and beyond things like lapis lazuli for the blue.” Thessaly saw the point immediately. He’d forgotten again that she knew this well enough from her own work. Illusion relied on the real to anchor it. She raised an eyebrow at his expression of apology, then added, “It’s not as if we’ve talked much about that side of things recently.”
“Just so. You— do you know the Masons? Two brothers, two sisters, one of their husbands, and then two sons and two daughters in the next generation. Definitely a family business, various people taking on different aspects of the thing. I go by there every month or so to restock my inks.” Vitus smiled a little. Last time Alice had been in the shop, she’d teased him up and down about the gossip, and the way she’d done it hadn’t hurt. She’d been careful to make sure they were private, too.
“Is that where you get your lovely inks, the ones I’ve been admiring on your notes? The colour quality is excellent. And no, I know the name, but I don’t think I’ve ever been in. Mother and Father considered them a little, um. What’s the word? Below the salt. Mother’s always favoured Allbright and Echo, and Magistra North only ever goes to Petrus and Sons.”
“It is. I particularly like that verdigris shade they manage. Or their copper. It’s striking, especially when used as an accent on a piece. And their black is as dark as anything I’ve found anywhere. Anyway, Alice and I had a grand time together, but we knew it wouldn’t last. She wanted to go into the business. That likely meant marrying someone else in colour work. It’s one of the few ways recipes get shared. And oh, Alice is desperately ambitious in a particular way.”
It made Thessaly laugh, and then wriggle closer to him. Vitus took the hint and rearranged, so she could settle against his shoulder. “She has your love of colour, your eye for it. But she is short, plump, and given the opportunity, she strongly prefers a sofa, a fire, and a good book over physical activity. Which suits her, mind.”
“And I do enjoy a ramble up a mountain from time to time. As well as the duelling. Though not generally in the winter. If you’d like to join me in spring or summer, however, you’d be welcome to.” Thessaly considered that. “In bed?”
“Ah, you’re similar enough there. Generous, curious, a great deal of pleasure. Not that I’ve been with her since we parted, and now she’s married. Though I still enjoy speaking with her, when she’s in the shop when I am. She and her husband do a fair bit of the traveling to find sources.” Vitus thought that was about the right amount of detail. “The other two are a little less interesting a tale, and you’re not likely to run into them.”
“Oh?” Thessaly peered at him, twisting to do so. “Do go on?”
“Marianne was not so well-born as you, but more that sort of thing. Privately educated, went to a finishing school on the Continent, in Switzerland, and she was having a bit of a rebellious streak when she came back. Whatever you are, rebellious is not exactly the word, before you argue.” Vitus squeezed her with his arm, just the once.
“It is certainly not what my parents would wish,” Thessaly pointed out. “On nearly any point, except perhaps my apprenticeship.”
“Regardless, Marianne had, shall we say, a variety of experience before she and I ended up at a gathering at the Stream. She was there as a guest, of course. And we took an interest in each other. It was a delightful summer, but I could tell she was getting bored by the end of it. Then she married someone who spends much of his time in Paris, sometimes elsewhere on the Continent. She very much enjoys being feted in fashionable cities.”
“And you would not provide that, even when you are established. Your work is likely to keep you home,” Thessaly said.
“Just so. The warding needs regular renewal. Not that travel is impossible, but not extensively.” Vitus considered. “And then there was a woman while I was in Austria, Magdalena. She was a tremendous cook, she’d been tending to her mother. Some years older than me, a widow, and we passed a pleasant few months together before I had to move on.”
Thessaly leaned her head back on him more securely. “I am no cook. I will grant you that. I’ve never really had the chance to learn, other than over a fire, for special occasions. The kitchen at home was Cook’s realm, and here as well.” She considered. “Do you miss them?”
“I do. I like to think when we are intimate, that kind of intimate, it ought to change us a bit. We ought to think about what we’ve left of ourselves with that person. I’m pleased with my choices. I don’t hear from Marianne much, though a holiday card, now and again. Sometimes I see Alice, as I said, and Magda writes.” He grinned, suddenly. “I told her about you, my last letter, and she wrote back for the holidays, reminding me of all the ways to be decent to you.”
“That’s certainly kind of her.” Thessaly worked her fingers into his. “Huh. I— well, you know I haven’t been with anyone. I knew, when I was in school that I’d be matched off, and some of them would care. Though I keep coming back to why Childeric didn’t even try. Besides the agreements, the desire for family magics that have to do with virginity.” She shook her head. He could feel the tenseness back.
“Did you want to?” The question came out of him before he could properly consider it.
Thessaly thought about it. The silence grew long enough Vitus was worried she was upset. But then she squeezed his hand before finally speaking. “I liked the idea of it, but I didn’t see anyone I liked enough to, to be worth thinking about specifics.” Then she ran her thumb against his hand. “You, I, um. I was wondering about it from when we met in the library. The first time. Aunt Metaia had told me a bit more about her own pleasures, about the fact she had them at all, I mean, with someone else. And I wondered about what it’d be like with you.”
“Did you?” He could feel himself flushing now, with pleasure and hope and anticipation. “I hope the reality didn’t spoil the fantasy.”
“Oh, you.” She leaned to kiss his nose. “Rather more detailed fantasies now. I’ve more specifics to work with. But also rather more of them, actually. Distractingly often.” Thessaly tilted her head. “On that level, I can sort of see why people make such a fuss about waiting. All that desire brings magic with it, and potency and all that.”
“How do you feel about that, then? Foiling that particular line?” Vitus felt again like he was intruding on something, but he wasn’t sure what. He was sure Thessaly would tell him or indicate if he’d gone too far.
