The sunlight seeping through the curtains gently awakened Valentina from a deep, dreamless sleep. She stretched slowly under the sheets, and a pleasant tingling sensation ran through her muscles. There was still a pleasant heaviness in her limbs.

  A smile stole across her lips before she could stop it.

  "Good morning, little Weaver ," Vyxara purred in her head. "No regrets?"

  "Not a trace," Valentina thought back, rolling onto her side. Her body felt pleasantly exhausted, as if she had spent a whole day doing hard field work. Except that this exhaustion was far more satisfying.

  A knock at the door announced Margaret, who was already entering with a pile of fresh clothes. Valentina swung herself out of bed, taking care not to let her slight stiffness show too obviously.

  "Good morning, milady. I hope you slept well?"

  "Excellent, thank you."

  As Margaret helped her into a blue-grey day dress that was almost exactly the color of the Tower's eyes, Valentina's thoughts inevitably wandered back to the previous night. The indifferent way he had taken her without even asking her name.

  "Don't get too worked up about it. A puddle might make Margaret suspicious."

  "That's vulgar, Vyxara," she replied in her mind, but the demon just chuckled.

  "Parliament is in session today," Margaret chatted as she tightened the strings of Valentina's dress. "His Grace and Lord Lorenzo have already left and will be there all day, but Her Grace has ordered a quiet day without official appearances for the ladies." She paused affectedly. "In addition, Lord Lorenzo's betrothed, Lady Innogen, is expected around mid-morning."

  Valentina's pulse quickened, but not with the hungry, hard desire of last night, but much softer and with some uncertainty.

  She could see Innogen today!

  "Have you ever wondered ," Vyxara purred, and Valentina felt the demon's attentive curiosity, "what it would be like with her?"

  "Vyxara..."

  "What? Be honest, you've been wondering about it since your kiss, and even more so since your conversation with the duchess."

  No, Valentina couldn't deny that the thought was on her mind. The memory of Innogen's lips on hers, and Innogen's desperate, exciting hunger in that kiss, before they left for Vandercourt, and the possibilities that now existed between them.

  Margaret stepped back and looked at her work with satisfaction. "Beautiful, milady. Shall I fix your hair?"

  "Yes, please. Something simple."

  ~

  The Ashbourne carriage rolled into the courtyard of the Greystone townhouse around mid-morning. Valentina stood next to the Duchess and Lady Beatrice at the front door, struggling to appear patient.

  One of her guards opened the door and Innogen stepped out.

  She wore a pink brocade dress that made her golden hair shine. Her blue eyes scanned the small welcoming party and immediately found Valentina as she walked toward her hostess with appropriate dignity.

  "Lady Innogen!" The duchess stepped forward and kissed her future daughter-in-law on both cheeks. "How lovely that you accepted my invitation to spend the day with us."

  "Oh no, Your Grace, the pleasure is all mine." Innogen curtsied impeccably. "I am very grateful for the invitation."

  The formal greetings were exchanged, each word perfectly chosen, and Valentina curtsied politely to her friend, feeling rather silly, as if they were nothing more than casual acquaintances, but Innogen returned the greeting with the same polite distance.

  Only her eyes spoke a different, more honest and tender language.

  "Well," said the duchess as she led them all into the house, "I'm afraid Beatrice and I have some urgent correspondence to attend to this morning. Terribly boring duties that I cannot possibly impose on you, Lady Innogen."

  "Oh," Innogen said politely. "I understand, of course."

  "But," Rosalind continued casually, "our little garden is truly enchanting at this time of year. Perhaps you would like to take a walk there? My second lady-in-waiting will certainly be happy to accompany you. It is a quiet place, very peaceful. In the afternoon, we could perhaps have a light meal together."

  The suggestion sounded so natural, so casual, as if it had just occurred to her, as if she were merely an attentive hostess concerned for the well-being of her guest.

  "That sounds wonderful, Your Grace," replied Innogen, and only a slight tremor in her voice gave away that she understood the true meaning of the words.

  The duchess nodded with satisfaction. "Excellent. Valentina, be so kind as to show Lady Innogen the garden."

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  Then Rosalind turned to leave with Beatrice, who was smiling quietly, but at the last moment, as she turned around, her gaze met Valentina's. And she winked.

  Valentina bowed her head almost imperceptibly, grateful and at the same time a little frightened by what the duchess was allowing them to do.

  Then they were alone.

  Innogen and Valentina stood in the entrance hall, and suddenly there was a strange awkwardness between them.

  "So," Innogen finally said, her voice not quite steady, "the garden sounds really beautiful."

  "Yes." Valentina cleared her throat. "Follow me."

  "Very eloquent ," Vyxara commented dryly.

  She led Innogen through a corridor and then through a narrow door into one of the townhouse's small courtyards. The garden that opened up before them was a hidden gem of the ducal city estate.

  Roses climbed wooden trellises and bloomed in every shade from white to dark red. Neat beds of various summer flowers lined the gravel paths, and in the center of the garden, a small fountain splashed quietly.

  Valentina led Innogen to a weathered stone bench that stood under an arbor, almost completely hidden by ivy vines and invisible from any of the windows of the house.

  The sounds of the city were only a distant murmur here, muffled by the high walls.

  "In any case, it's private enough for a little honesty, don't you think, little Weaver?"

  They sat down next to each other on the stone bench, and Valentina felt the warmth of Innogen's shoulder, which almost touched hers. Almost, but not quite. An incredibly fat bumblebee buzzed lazily among the rose blossoms.

  For a long time, neither of them said anything. They just watched the fat bumblebee.

  Then Innogen cleared her throat softly. "What we discussed with the duchess..." She broke off, her fingers playing nervously with the hem of her sleeve. "Have you thought about it? What it means? For us? The both of us, I mean."

  Valentina closed her eyes briefly and breathed deeply of the heavy, sweet scent of the roses as she tried to find the words.

  "I haven't thought about much else," she admitted. "I've thought about you a lot. And Lorenzo, and the duke." She shook her head. "I wish I could give you a simple answer. I don't think I have good answers for many things yet."

  "But you already know some things ," Vyxara whispered gently in her mind, without pressing.

  "But I know that you are important to me," Valentina continued, turning to Innogen. "More important than I can put into words. And I know that I don't want to lose you. And I am ready... to find out what that means."

  Innogen's breath caught audibly. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper.

  "You don't know how long I've wanted this." Her blue eyes glistened with tears. "Years, Val. Years of looking at you, wanting you, imagining what it would be like if we-" An uncertain little laugh escaped her. "And convincing myself that it would never be possible." Innogen lowered her gaze. "And now we're sitting here, and the duchess knows, and Lorenzo knows, and they kind of accept it, and you want to..." Her voice broke. "I'm so afraid that it will all disappear again. That I'll wake up and it was just a dream."

  Valentina reached out and found Innogen's hand. They intertwined their fingers on the warm stone of the bench.

  Valentina looked at Innogen, saw the hope and fear in her eyes, and something tender and protective stirred almost painfully in her chest.

  Slowly, she leaned forward. Her forehead touched Innogen's, gently, questioningly. Innogen closed her eyes and a shiver ran through her as Valentina kissed her.

  At first it was gentle, tentative, a cautious exploration. But then Innogen placed her free hand on Valentina's shoulder, and the kiss became deeper, hungrier, as if all the pent-up longing of the past years were bursting out of her at once.

  When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily.

  "The garden," Valentina whispered hoarsely. "I don't think it's private enough for-"

  "I know," Innogen interrupted her, her voice full of barely suppressed desire.

  Valentina bit her lip. "Maybe we should wait until we're back in Bridgewater."

  A pause. Then Innogen shook her head.

  "No," she whispered. "I don't want to wait that long. I've waited so long already."

  Valentina nodded, stood up, and pulled Innogen up with her, their hands still clasped.

  She led them back into the house, through quiet corridors, quickly past a maid carrying a pile of laundry who, fortunately, barely glanced at them. Then up the stairs to the door of her chambers.

  Valentina closed the door behind them and as she turned the key in the lock, Innogen opened a small vial of Distilled Essence, raised her hands and formed a small, sophisticated Luvt pattern that affected the air in the room and was apparently intended to muffle any noise.

  Then she turned back to Valentina, walked towards her, her hands trembling as she touched Valentina's face, so lightly and hesitantly, as if touching something fragile, something that could crumble at any moment.

  Their lips met again, more boldly this time. Innogen's breath came in gasps and she kissed Valentina with a mixture of awe and hunger, her tongue dancing gently with Valentina's, unsure whether to assert itself or submit.

  Valentina reached around Innogen to untie the strings of her dress, and Innogen did the same to hers. The fabrics rustled as they fell to the floor, revealing their naked skin.

  Innogen's eyes widened as she looked at Valentina, and there was pure wonder in them, as if she were seeing something unattainable that had suddenly become tangible, as if the moon or the sun had descended to caress her.

  "Finally," she whispered, her voice breaking, "finally I have this. You."

  Valentina smiled, pulled her closer until their bodies touched, breast to breast, skin to skin. They moved toward the bed without breaking the kiss, stumbling over their own clothes, laughing and kissing.

  Innogen's hands slid over Valentina's back, her hips, as if she feared Valentina might disappear if she didn't keep touching her.

  "You're so beautiful," she murmured, "so perfect." She couldn't keep quiet, whispering incessantly words of affection that sounded like prayers. "My Valentina, my love, my dearest Valentina."

  She flooded Valentina with a whispered and sighed wave of gratitude, love, and overwhelming joy, and a deep warmth spread through Valentina's chest.

  Innogen's happiness was contagious, filling her with a pure, blissful contentment. How often had she seen her friend suffer, trapped by duties and expectations? But now, in this moment, she could give her something she had always wanted, something that belonged only to them.