Chapter Text
Days after Helektra’s quiet departure from the pleasure house, Castorice and Hyacinthia were tasked to tend to her chamber. The room felt strangely hollow as if her presence still lingered in the silken sheets and perfume that clung to the air.
As Castorice moved to dust the dressing table, her hand stilled. Tucked neatly beneath a silver comb lay a folded parchment. She picked it up staring at the familiar slant of Helektra’s writing. Her lips was pressed together with her eyes stinging before she could even unfold it. Hyacinthia noticing her pause stepped closer to her.
“What is it you’ve found?”
Castorice glanced at her then wordlessly opened the letter. They read in silence. The words breathed Helektra’s farewell, grateful and full of hope she had never spoken aloud.
To my dearest friends,
If this letter finds you, it means I have already gone. Do not let sorrow weigh on you for I walk now towards a life I never dreamed could be mine. You are my family through the years. I have known warmth, laughter and comfort because of you. Should fate let us meet again as different souls, know that I will still carry you in my heart. May your days be gentle, your nights kind and may we hold each other in memory.
—H.
When the last line was read, Hyacinthia exhaled softly and voiced out lowly.
“So she truly is gone.”
Castorice folded the letter back with trembling care.
“And she is not to return.”
For a long moment, neither spoke. The emptiness in the chamber pressed close. Hyacinthia leaned against the bedpost.
“I’ll miss her soft chuckles the most. The way she also could ease a night’s weight with her vielle.”
Castorice gave a faint smile though her eyes glistened.
“She was gentle but never weak. She . . . she deserved more than these walls.”
Hyacinthia nodded with her gaze far away.
“Let us hope she’s found it. A kinder life.”
Castorice carefully placed the letter back on the table and her hand lingered on the wooden dressing table.
“One day perhaps, we’ll see her again. And when we do . . . may it be when she’s dressed not in silk for others but in joy for herself.”
The two stood in silence as they continued to tend to the chamber, quietly holding hope for their sister who had finally stepped beyond the house’s walls.
The laughter and music from the halls downstairs had thinned to faint murmurs behind the shut doors of Aglaea’s private chamber. With the candles burning low and the shadows playing across the silk and velvet curtains, she sat by the window with one hand curled around a goblet as she stared at the dark street below.
The door creaked open. Cipher stepped inside with her shoulders heavy from service.
“You are late.”
The mistress said without turning. Her voice was smooth but trembling at the edges.
“Duties delayed me.”
Aglaea’s lips curved in a bitter half-smile.
“Of course it did. And here I sit, second to a crown I cannot touch.”
She then turned to face Cipher. Her eyes was bright and unguarded as she continued.
“Tell me, my love. . . do you leave me scraps or do you return to me whole?”
Cipher's eyes softened. She did not immediately answer but closed the space between them, walking across the room to approach her distressed lover. She took Aglaea’s hand, kneeling by the cushioned seat and pressed a kiss into her hand.
“What I bring is never scraps, Aglaea. But my whole heart every moment I return.”
Cipher firmly reassured. Her low voice was steady with conviction. The words unraveled something in Aglaea. Her fingers trembled as they brushed on Cipher’s cheek.
“You do have a way of making it difficult to keep my displeasure.”
Aglaea murmured without breaking her gaze. Cipher rose slightly, leaning close to wrap her lover in a quiet embrace.
"Forgive me . . . if I’ve given you reason to doubt."
She hesitated then pressed on. Her voice was trembling with sincerity.
"My duty may carry me far yet my heart only belongs to you. Will you believe me in this? I pray you do."
Aglaea’s composure faltered and her voice turned rougher.
"Do you recall the first night you came to me, pleading for the maiden?"
Cipher withdrew just enough to meet her eyes, sinking to her knees before her lover. She rested her arms upon Aglaea’s thighs while the other remained in her cushioned chair.
“I do recall. And what about it?”
Aglaea’s fingers threaded through Cipher’s hand with gentleness.
“No matter what crown you serve, you are to return to me.”
Cipher slowly rose from her knees like every movement was meant to reassure.
"Then doubt no more. I will not fail you.”
She finally leaned closer, capturing the mistress' lips in an unhurried kiss. It was less consuming as though to erase the memory of her lover's doubt and bind her heart in certainty once more. Aglaea breathed against her mouth. She finally stood from the cushioned seat and drew Cipher with her. Neither broke the kiss as they moved. Only the soft shuffle of their feet and their mingling breaths filled the chamber. Cipher’s arms firmly circled about Aglaea’s waist to ground her as her lips deepened the kiss. The back of Aglaea’s knees met the bed and let herself sink into it, pulling the other down with her. Cipher followed willingly, bracing herself with one hand against the mattress while the other fell beneath Aglaea’s collarbone.
The mistress arched then her hands found Cipher’s shoulders, sliding down to the curve of her back almost near to her tail's base, clutching as if to tether the cat close. Cipher pressed her mouth to the curve of Aglaea's jaw in return, to the hollow of her throat then down to her shoulder, biting enough to slightly mark on it. Each press was deliberate, slow and savoring. Her hands followed the lines of Aglaea’s body as if to reassure her once more. The mistress tilted her head back with a low sigh escaping her lips. She let herself be consumed. She no longer asked for promises. Cipher’s touch, the weight against her body and the way Cipher whispered her name were enough to banish doubt.
The night deepened around them. Their breaths still came uneven though softer now. Cipher lay nestled against Aglaea with her head resting upon the mistress heart while Aglaea’s arm curved protectively around Cipher with her fingers threading idly through the cat’s light hair. Aglaea finally allowed her eyes to fall shut, not to yield to sleep but to surrender for a little while to the peace of holding her beloved close.
Seasons turned. The laughter and light of the pleasure house dimmed into memory as the world beyond moved forward. The gardens had changed over time with spring blossoms giving way to deep summer green and soon, those too, would pale into autumn.
Beneath the same elm where Helektra once had waited with certain heart, sat again. But life was no longer as it had been. Days had fallen into a gentle rhythm within the home Cerydra had given her, tending to the garden, walking freely through the streets and learning from the books that still lined her shelves. She had even learned to recognize certain noble crests when carriages passed. It was a small skill that made her smile at her own progress.
Cipher was still coming with news though never too much for the heir’s world was one Helektra could never fully step into yet. Cerydra was visiting when she could. Sometimes weeks had been passing without a word but sometimes only days. Every time Cerydra returned, she always brought the same warmth and the same careful touch that made Helektra forget the distance between their worlds.
One late autumn evening, the heir arrived without an escort, slipping through the garden with her cloak dusted in dirt. Helektra rose to meet her, carrying a small white cat.
“You’re early this season."
Helektra smiled as she brushed the dirt from the heir’s shoulders.
“I couldn’t stay away.”
The heir replied. There was a hint of weariness in her eyes but also a relief.
They went inside and over the meal Helektra had kept warm, they talked of small things like the stubborn merchant in the city, a book she had almost finished and how she was now able to ride a horse on her own.
That night as they lay together, they held each other not as a promise of forever but as a quiet vow to keep finding their way back no matter how far the paths between them might run. The thought rested between them, warm and heavy. For now, neither had left. And that was enough.
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