There was a storm and evidently there is another dispute with Tourmaline.  She let the storm wash out the crops of barley and turtleweed.  It was a horrific shock.  Especially in light of how badly a storm harmed our own affairs, our own status.  I thought I was getting away from that, and I certainly didn’t expect a tantrum from two different water dragons.  They’re supposed to protect humans, but it seems like water dragons at least just care about gemstones…


    They must not mind that much if someone cuts through the catacombs, Marble thought with a shudder.  They haven’t put Vaterin on an additional chore detail after she came down off the docks.  But it still gives me the creeps, thinking about walking past all those dead bodies.  I’m guessing it’s not disturbing them, she doesn’t have any reason to steal from them or defile them.  And the Isle is consecrated.  So I guess undead abominations aren’t an issue.  But still… eugh!  As for the mine, I hope it’s safe.


    She avoids things that make her uncomfortable.  I didn’t much care for the switchbacks either when I first arrived, but I kept making the trek.  She just brings less water and goes through the tunnels.  She’s like that with other things.  She looks the other way with Brother Pitch, instead of getting in trouble.  I mean, sarx—pardon me, Father—but she conjures or whatever a minor angel rather than develop her own talent.  And I think it’s biting her in the butt because she can’t draw landscapes because her soul “doesn’t sync” with the angel or whatever.  She doesn’t even try for more than a few minutes.


    Her paintings are very nice, though.  I’m flattered by what she’s been painting of me.  I look noble, dignified, focused… and she captures the look of painting by candlelight very well.  I see her referencing her sketches all the time, but that she holds these molten oranges and umbers in her mind is impressive.  If I tried to paint a person… well, they’d look like a statue.  A deformed statue, because they’d move and I’d miss that.  Marble laughed quietly at herself.  But I’m trying.  The statue of the Virtue is making progress.  Somewhat.


    It was Sunday, and so aside from services and meals, the students’ time was their own.  Marble turned back to the letter she’d been writing.  I made a new friend, in the one new student this season.  Her name is Vaterin Lime, and she’s evidently the scion of a powerful merchant family.  Her family is— Marble paused.  She didn’t want to lambast Vaterin’s family, gossip had a way of carrying.  —quite certain their daughter needs to be a merchant and carry on the family name.  She’s a reliable sort, and a hard worker, I’m sure their prospects will succeed in her capable hands.  During the storm, which I mentioned, she was a great comfort, even if she was mistaken about the crops.  Marble paused again, realizing she hadn’t described Vaterin to her parents yet.  She’s tall, and I think she must have ridden horses or something because while she’s soft around the edges, she’s strong.  I could feel her strength while she was holding me— Marble tickled her chin while she debated whether she wanted to tell her parents about that, eventually shrugging because she’d already written it.  —and it was a very secure feeling.  She’s a passionate artist, and you know that’s high praise coming from me.  I had never given much thought to the magic of spirit conjuring but she— Marble sighed.  She was forever getting “conjured” and “communing” and “manifesting” mixed up, possibly for the very reason she was putting to paper.  —interacts with a Muse of Painting, a pure spirit from the One God sent to help His people to portray Creation.  But that alone wouldn’t impress me, she’s been devouring the book I told you about, the one where I learned all those terms for things like aquiline noses and whatnot.  She’s not very good at drawing landscapes but she—


    Marble paused yet one more time.  Was I being uncharitable earlier?  She does keep trying to draw landscapes, she just gives up quickly.  She’s improve faster if she tried, but it seems like it frustrates her so fast.  …I really do want to sing her praises, if I’m going to describe her.  She’s the best friend I’ve made since coming here.  From the moment we met, she was a comfortable companion.


    But is that all she is?  I mean, if her family wants her to carry on the family name, that means either a husband or spirit magic of whatever variety is necessary to conceive a child.


    Hah.  I’m avoiding the issue.  I like her, but do I have a crush on her?  I don’t know the answer to that.  And I guess there’s no great rush to figure it out.  We have months until the All Saviors’ Day feast.  Of course, after the feast she’ll have to either take up a patron or go back to the family bus—a lump formed in Marble’s throat.  Well.  I guess I have a crush.  I wonder if it’s mutual.  I haven’t… tried something like it, not since Gramma passed, but I could always see if fire sorcery could give me a hint.  I like to light candles with it, but it does correspond to a humor and that humor does happen to be choler.  I don’t want to know if she’s mad at me, but Gramma said fire was generally the element of emotion.  The ego, she said.  Would that be an invasion of her privacy?  Would she mind?  I mean, she did come right up and listen to my prayers and smell my perfume.


    Marble was still pondering and praying, both to the Virtue of the Jester, and a little to her grandmother—who while she wasn’t made a saint, sarx well should have been—when Vaterin walked into the dormitory.  Marble put aside her lap desk, left off her prayers, and decided to be bold and pat the spot next to her on the bunk.  When Vaterin didn’t hesitate at all to sit down very close to her, Marble thought, well that’s an encouraging sign.  I think… I will just ask if she likes me.  I could see using sorcery on Brother Pitch—okay, so no I would never disrespect a clergyman like that—but not on Vaterin.


    “So Vaterin.  Do you have anyone… waiting for you, back home?  Who would regret your taking a patron?”


    Vaterin laughed, but it was not an entirely joyous sound.  “I have an arranged marriage to a woman my family wants ties to.  Who would carry the nephilim child, I have no idea.  I imagine my parents are hoping I will.”  Well sarx.  There goes the idea of her patronizing me if she can’t get a patron.


    “What happens to that if you secure a patron?”


    “The engagement dissolves and my parents cut me off, probably.”


    “That’s horrible!”


    “They’re quite certain I should carry on the family business, in the family name.  They have enough authority that the terms of the engagement include my ‘bride’ taking on my family’s name as opposed to the other way around.  Eugh… I think that does mean they want me to carry the nephilim child.”  And here I thought nobles were the only ones obsessed with dynasties and lineage.  “What about you, Marble?” She swallowed before she said that.  I… am probably reading too much into things.  “Do you have anyone waiting for you?”


    Marble shook her head.  I’m answering her question and then I’m asking her.  “I had a political marriage arranged, but it was amicably dissolved.  I still write to him now and again. Vaterin—”The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    “What broke it off?”


    What broke which—who cares?!  “Oh, uhm… I’m a lesbian and he’s completely asexual.  I was hurt, honestly, until he told me that it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the thought of consummating a marriage. He was considering taking holy orders until they said an effortless vow of chastity was meaningless, so he’s a pastor somewhere.  Vaterin—”


    “Huh.  Didn’t know you had to take that kind of vow to be a monk.”


    “Vaterin, I am trying to ask you a question.”


    “Go for it.”


    “Do you like me?”


    “I like you quite a bit!  You’re the only friend I’ve made on this island, with the possible exception of Father Sauer?”


    “No, I mean—Spirit, give me strength—do you have a crush on me?!”


    Vaterin looked taken aback at the question.  That’s either a very good sign or a very bad one.  The silence stretched for interminable moments which were likely only a second apiece.  Eventually, Vaterin scratched the back of her head and said softly, “What gave me away?”  Oh thank the One God.


    “Believe it or not, I couldn’t read you at all.  I was asking because—well, for obvious reasons.”


    “Hey now, if I have to say it in as many words—”


    “You didn’t say it in as many words, you asked what gave you away.”


    “Marble Bitumen, I treasure our friendship too much to throw it away, but I guess the secret is out—yes, I have a crush on you.”


    “Oh.  Good.  I’m glad.”


    “That makes it your turn, Marble.  Also, glad?!”


    “I am!  I’m happy that my feelings are reciprocated!”


    “That’s still not so many words.”


    “You’re enjoying this.  Fine.  Vaterin Lime, I, Marble Bitumen, heir to the Clearwater duchy—” Vaterin let out a low whistle.  What, my title impresses you?  Have I not mentioned my mom’s a duchess?  “—have a crush on you.”


    “Kiss now!” Writing Slate called from across the room.  Marble worked on summoning the nerve but Vaterin turned a bright shade of red Marble was glad wouldn’t show on her own skin and the both of them looked away from each other.


    “Go back to your dorm room!” Vaterin called, to a laughing Write.


    “You mean my closet?  Oh, no, nobles ladies, don’t banish poor Writing Slate to their closet again!  They’ll be good!”


    “I’m, ah… I’m glad we had this conversation,” Vaterin said, ignoring Write, who was even then mock weeping and bowing on the floor.


    “I’m glad too.”  Marble laid her hand over Vaterin’s, the both of them having scooted slightly apart at Write’s teasing.  “I’m very glad.”  She likes me!  She likes me!  She likes my title… oh, wait, no, that’s a sad thought.  And she wouldn’t have developed a crush in the fraction of a sandglass since she found out that I have one.  I’ve been plenty brave for one day, I’ll ask another time whether my title matters all that much.  And, I mean, aspersions could be cast upon my own motivations.  The duchy is practically broke, land-poor, and her family is some prestigious merchant clan.  They say nouveau riche and nobles make a poor match but that’s with straight couples where the man marries down, because it ends the title.  If I… I am a femme, I’m thinking out political repercussions of marriage when we just said we have a mutual crush.  I am a noble, I would carry on the family line.  It would be sweet and romantic if Vaterin learned more about spirit magic so that she could be the one to impart the nephilim upon me.


    “Whatcha thinking so hard about?” Vaterin murmured, her breath warm on Marble’s ear.


    Without thinking, Marble turned her head to face Vaterin, and their lips touched for a brief moment.  Marble’s hand flew to her mouth, and she stammered out, “I’m sorry!  That was so very not on purpose!”


    “I was about to say the same thing!”


    “Are you sorry it happened?”


    “You said you were!”


    “I mean, I’m not sorry it happened, I just would have liked to ask first—”


    “I’m not sorry either!”


    “I’m glad!”


    “I told you two you should kiss!”


    “Writing Slate, peanut gallery seats are not available as this is not a performance!  I will put you in your dormitory and block the door with a chair!”  Vaterin’s tone was not as cutting as it could have been, but it was firm.  And loud.  She’s still facing me, not Write.  …could she really forcibly put them in their dorm room?  I know she’s strong, but is she that strong?


    Vaterin cupped Marble’s cheek with her hand.  “Would you like a more intentional kiss?”


    Marble would have bet her second-favorite pair of gloves that her blush showed somehow as she replied, “I think I would, yes.”


    Vaterin leaned in and kissed Marble gently… on the cheek.  “That’s as far as my courage goes today.  But I’ll summon the nerve to be—” she was silenced as Marble pressed her lips to Vaterin’s and gave her a taste of the kiss she wanted.  You’re not getting off that easily.  The Virtue of the Jester encourages the Power of Pleasure.  She’s traditionally paired with the Knight, and I think Vaterin needs to work on invoking the Power of Courage.  Or Daring.  Marble laughed, lips still against Vaterin’s, arms having wrapped around her at some point.


    “What’s so funny?”


    “We’re kissing, and just a couple hours ago I wouldn’t have known I wanted to, but we are and yet what I’m thinking about is prayers you could say to be a little braver.”  Marble laughed again.  They broke off the kiss, but Marble’s lips were warm from touching Vaterin’s.


    “Braver?!  Me?  I’m Vaterin Lime!  I’ve danced with nobles, been table weight—” what does that mean?  “—stood up to parents determined to maintain their bloodline!  I am bravery embodied—”


    “But you didn’t kiss me.”


    “I did so!”


    “You didn’t kiss me right.”


    “Femmes!  All kinds of unwritten rules!  I didn’t kiss you, I didn’t kiss you right, next you’ll say I didn’t kiss you back or some such nonsense!”


    “You did kiss me back.  I liked it.”  I liked it a lot.  She has thin lips compared to me, but they’re not unpleasant.  And she’s so warm.  I wonder if her vest is wool.  My lips have been cold since I left home, but they’re certainly not cold right now.  I should be noticing Vaterin.


    Vaterin was already bright red, but it had spread down her neck and up her ears.  When Marble made eye contact, she rushed out, “I liked it too.  What, ah… what were those prayers, that you were recommending?”


    “Well, we’re both patrons of the Virtue of the Jester.”


    “Well yes.”


    “One of the traditions pairs the Jester with the Knight.  You could pray to the Knight’s Powers of Courage and Daring for the… well, courage and daring—”


    “We’re going to turn into an aquifer if we both keep saying ‘well’.”


    “You’re deflecting.”


    “Alright, so I should pray to the Powers of Courage and Daring.  What are they called?”


    “I’m surprised you don’t know them.”


    “Now you’re deflecting.”


    “I don’t know them.  I just know of them.”


    They both laughed.  “I bet the library has a book of the Powers.”


    “Oh, probably.”


    “We should work on our paintings.”


    “We should.”


    “Are we going to?”


    “Probably not.”


    “Good.”


    “Good?”


    “Good.”


    “Good.”


    Then they kissed again.