Chapter Text
Mirit did not look at ease in sêr prayers. Sê knelt before sêr offering burning away in the bowl, skirt clutched so tight in sêr hands sêr knuckles were pale. Sêr whispering was too quiet for me to understand, but even so I could make out the quiver in sêr voice.
I glanced towards the two attendants carrying the heavy bundles I'd brought, trying to catch in their faces a hint of the same awkwardness I was feeling. I did not find it. They must have been used to this. It was common practice here for families to visit the temple together and wait on each other while going about their business. I suppose being a guest of Mirit's household counted as close enough to being sêr family.
We now were on the second tier of the temple, the walls lined with dull gold bricks. My own destination lay at the very bottom, where a priest had directed us after I’d managed to get across that I wished to leave an offering for the dead. I had suggested we go there first, so the two attendants would not have to carry all the swords for too long.
“There is an order that must be observed.”, Mirit had said curtly, though, and that was that.
Sê had not told me the purpose of sêr supplication, but I thought I had a good idea. The goddess - god? - in the alcove before sêr strongly resembled the statue of Magna Mater herself in the entry hall. A pregnant elven omega enthroned on a low seat strewn with red and purple petals. Mirit's offering had been the contents of a small vial, spilled into the fire burning within a silver bowl. Rather than dousing them, the liquid had fanned the flames even further. The vial itself sê had then placed at the goddess’ feet, in a neat row alongside a dozen similar ones.
Sê did not take too long, at least. The tension was still on sêr face when sê rose and joined me to continue our descent. Sê was unusually quiet.
“En-Mirit, are you alright?”, I finally asked. “This is about your… um, your consort-to-be, is it not?”
Sê did not turn to look at me. Sê was walking quickly enough I had trouble keeping up without hurrying after sêr.
“And so?”, sê said. “I can be nervous, can't I? It's only natural.”
Sêr tone almost made me flinch. I glanced over at the attendants again. Mirit acted like they weren't there at all. I supposed they were also used to scenes like this.
I looked back at the goddess Mirit had prayed to, the offering bowl still burning at sêr feet.
“In Numantia, we say Neni-nen has a consort,” I told Mirit. “Ulkos, we call sér. Sé is a wolf and warrior. Does sê have one like that here too?”
Mirit snorted.
“Neni-nen has dozens of consorts,” sê said.
I rolled my eyes. Sê knew what I meant.
“Yes, but does sê have a First Consort?” I pressed.
“Why are you asking me? Do I look like a priest to you?”
“This is something any child could tell me, en,” I said. “If you don't wish to talk now, just say so.”
Mirit sighed, and slowed sêr pace so I could catch up with sêr.
“I'm sorry, dumpling. I see what you're trying to do. I did not mean to be rude,” sê said. “Yes, sê has a First Consort. Nuret. Sé is a bull, here.”
I blinked, thinking of the icon of Magna Mater in the temple’s entry hall.
“Like the one on the statue?”, I said. Mirit nodded, and I had to hold back a laugh. Clearly, this could not be the same deity as Ulkos. “The one sê’s holding by a leash? The one with the blinders?”
Mirit smiled.
“Yes, that one. Sé is strong and loyal, but not very clever. Sé used to be ruler of all the gods, you know?” sê said. Sê already was looking a little less tense.
“There’s a story there,” I said. “Tell me.”
“When the world was being built, Nuret decided it was done too early and would not listen to reason. Neni-nen tricked sér into putting on the blinders, saying they were a crown, then finished making the world in the places sé could not see. Sé still thinks that what sé sees is all there is, and that sé is queen of all.”
I looked about, eyeing the many-coloured gods along the walls of the temple. Magna-Mater’s children, all of them. The same mother, and a dozen fathers.
“It does not sound like Neni-nen cares much for sér,” I said.
Mirit shook sêr head.
“No, sê loves sér very much. Nuret is a good protector, and cares well for sêr and their children. It is simply that sé does not always know what is best for sér.”
That made some sort of sense, I suppose. Still… If you love someone, you don’t bind them. You shouldn’t have to. It’s not like I had felt very loved when given that belt to wear.
We walked in silence for a bit, until we were close to the next set of stairways leading downwards. The many-formed and colourful elven gods were still an endless source of fascination for me. On this tier, they were still quite normal-looking, but I only had to look up a little to see a wide array of shapes and forms. There was a bright green bird with feathers like eyes and the head of a beautiful elf. A wasp-like being whose faceted eyes were made of a thousand tiny mirrors. A lean elf beta playing a harp with the clear wings of a dragonfly. My eyes lingered on that last one. Se was quite pretty, ser full lips carved in a playful smile that reminded me of Thek during one of our word games.
I turned to Mirit once more.
“So, Neni-nen, does sê…” I said, not quite sure how to phrase it. There were plenty of stories about suitors to Magna Mater who sought to seduce her and often nearly succeeded, only for Ulkos to learn of it and prove his love for her in some spectacular manner that left her no choice but remain alongside him. I did not know the myrmid words for ‘suitor’ or ‘lover’, though.
“Does sê love anyone else?” I asked eventually. “Someone not sêr consort?”
Mirit looked quite puzzled at that.
“Whatever do you mean?” sê said. “Sêr children?”
“No, no, not that sort of love. Um… The sort you feel for your consorts, but for someone you maybe are not supposed to.”
“Dumpling, I have no idea what you are talking about,” sê said. “Neni-nen is queen of queens. Should sê desire anyone not yet bound to sêr, sê can simply take them.”
From above, the bottom tier of the temple had seemed dour and lifeless. To some degree that impression was correct. It lacked any plants at all. The walls were of deep black stone, the pool of water in the middle so deep I could not see the bottom. There were no gods lining the walls, and only a single doorway guarded by many-armed skeletal demons.
Now that I was here, though, I realized it might be the most opulent level of them all. The winding roots that I had thought were painted onto the walls were in fact made of leaf-thin gold sheets affixed to the stone by some invisible means. The sparkling stones inlaid between the swirling gold bands were real sapphires and amethyst and jade, not just coloured glass like I had thought they must be. These walls alone looked like they held more wealth than all the kings and queens of Numantia combined.
These riches did little to make the gate before us any less forbidding. The skeletal, brass-boned guardians wielded a whole armoury each in their dozen arms, a forest of blades pointed right at us. Strings of jade carved into the shape of human hearts hung draped over their spines and ribs. I halted before the gates and glanced over at Mirit. Sêr bearing was more composed than usual, sêr back straighter. I saw no fear in it, though, only a quiet reverence.
My eyes must have lingered a little too long. Sê smiled at me and took me by the arm. I couldn't help but press up closer against sêr while passing the guardian sculptures. The way their empty eye-sockets seemed to follow me made me shudder. Those things were worse than the guardians on the other levels. Not simply grotesque, but genuinely terrifying. Whatever they guarded must have been of great value.
We reached the heavy, copper-plated gates. It would not have been out of place for them to be covered in reliefs of dancing demons and skeletons like the guardians. Instead, they were carved with an intricate grid-like motif that reminded me of a massive ral board. Mirit turned to one of the attendants, who gave a nod. Sê pushed, and the gate slid open. It looked too heavy to budge at the efforts of a single person, but opened easily without any sound.
There were three such gates we passed, with only small, empty chambers in-between. The air within was cool and very dry. I started shivering, having left behind my cloak and scarf when entering the temple. This was the first time since arriving in Epimyra that I felt too cold rather than too hot.
We entered a low-ceilinged hall, only dimly lit. Flowers folded from gold leaf lined the walls, connected with strings of pearls. Half a dozen doorways led out into dark halls burrowing deeper into the earth. More terrible skull-faced apparitions stood guard in alcoves along the walls. Worst of all was a wooden sculpture atop a shrine facing the entrance at the end of the hall. It sat in some sort of glass box lined with golden bars like a cage. Strings of pearls and jewels hung about its form, and it wore a crown of gold and silver leaves. Where all the other figures were stood in threatening poses, this one was sitting hunched over, bony arms wrapped about its knees. If anything, that was more unsettling. Like it could jump up and rattle at its cage any moment. I hugged myself more tightly, and stepped forward.
There was no-one to greet us. I heard footsteps echo from one of the hallways, but they did not come closer. I paused in the middle of the hall, looking about. One of the attendants who had accompanied us met my eyes.
“You have no family here, right?” sê asked. I nodded, and sê cocked sêr head towards the shrine with that horrible wooden statue. “Then there is where you leave your offerings. Neni-tiel stands for the dead.”
That must be the name of whatever deity this was an effigy of. Magna Mater’s jealous older sister, most likely, who held domain over all things not alive. Who had her withered claws wrapped about my brother's soul after he had been denied proper rites of death.
I gave the attendant a nod and breathed in deep. Gods, this place was getting to me. When I had come of age, a holy woman had taken me to a sacred cave near Dunmaris. The cavern walls had been painted with a dozen sorts of animals, bears and wolves and deer with massive antlers. They were terribly lifelike. In the dancing torchlight they looked like they were moving, running about in herds or snapping at each other. Everywhere in that cave had been animal bones, piled up in pyramids or placed in little alcoves and ledges. Some had dusty traces of red paint on them, some still had stone arrowheads buried inside them. The holy woman accompanying me had told me some of those bones and accompanying paintings were of animals that no-one had ever seen alive, beasts like giant, shaggy unicorns or wildcats with sword-length fangs. My skin had stood on edge the whole time, and I imagined that the dancing pictures along the walls were the restless spirits of the creatures who could not find their way out of that cave. Now, half a world away in the deep halls of Magna Mater's elven temple, I was feeling very similar.
I went up to the shrine. The effigy was no less unsettling up close. I could see its face now, hollow-cheeked with closed eyes and a mouth stretched thin as a line. There was something leathery to it, as if it was wearing a mask that didn’t quite fit. Why encase the thing in glass, I wondered? For all my fantasies of the spiteful goddess coming to life, it was most likely a mundane reason, like keeping the wood from rotting away.
The shrine it stood on was strewn with preserved flowers of a dozen colours, coated in some glossy shell that kept them fresh as the day they were picked. There was a low altar in the front, incense burning at the corners. I motioned the attendants to place down the bundles on the floor beside it. I knelt down and unrolled them, revealing the dozen blades, each wrapped in a cloth to protect the metal.
Once I had removed those coverings, I got to work placing down the swords upon the altar, one by one. First was my brother's. I hesitated for a few breaths, running a finger over the cold steel. He'd had it forged after returning from his time as a mercenary. The blue eyes on the wolf-head pommel were beads of coloured Epimyran glass. For something purchased with the spoils of his exploits, he had not seemed very proud of it, only rarely wearing it.
With care, I set it down on the altar, whispering his name to the withered goddess so she knew whose soul I was buying with this. I took a step back, struck by how light I suddenly felt, Tasco’s spirit no longer lingering over my shoulder. Mirit, who had been watching silently up until now, stepped to my side and placed a hand on my arm. Sê looked at me with worry.
“Is everything alright, dumpling?” sê whispered.
“Yes,” I told sêr, and could not help but smile a little. “Thank you.”
I continued with the remaining swords. I did not know the names of all my brother's companions, and would have to hope that their blades were enough to identify them to the goddess. There only were two left when I looked over the effigy once more, took in the matted hair and wrinkled skin about the eyes, and finally realized that this was no statue at all.
“Better now?”, Mirit asked, arm about my shoulders.
I nodded, though my breath still hadn’t returned to its normal pace. It had taken all I had to not flee the hall upon realizing that the ‘effigy’ before me was really a preserved corpse, like those that turned up in bogs from time to time in Numantia. The whole temple must have heard the clattering when I dropped the sword I was holding in shock. I’d cut myself, a shallow gash along my palm. Mirit had shooed away the attendants and helped me place the last two blades on the altar, then quickly led me out of the temple. We were in the palanquin now, on our way back to the Sa complex. Sê’d wanted to have my hand tended to at the temple, but I’d refused to stay a moment longer. I’d not even bothered retrieving my scarf and cloak. I could still feel the deathly cold air on my bare neck, like the whispering of restless spirits.
Everyone we’d passed at the temple had looked at me like I had gone insane. Even Mirit did not quite know what to make of my reaction. It had all just been so sudden. Why had no one warned me?
I pressed up closer against Mirit, taking comfort in the living warmth of ser skin. For once I was glad sê was so much larger than me, letting me ensconce myself within sêr arms as if they were a burrow. Fortunately, sê seemed to have no issue with that. Sê was busy fussing over my palm, holding a cloth kerchief against it to soak up the blood. For me, it was the least of my worries. It barely bled anymore , and I’d already experienced enough of myrmid medicine to know that in a few days there would be no trace of it left.
“What did sê do?”, I asked sêr quietly.
Mirit looked confused.
“What do you mean?”
“The… the body. Why is sê imprisoned like that?” I said. Given its size and the type of jewellery garlanding the corpse, I was quite sure that ‘sê’ was the right form of address.
“Sê is not imprisoned,” Mirit said slowly. “Sê was a priest, an important one. Now sê continues sêr work, as the bridge between the living and the dead.”
I shook my head.
“No, sê is trapped. Sêr spirit can’t leave.” Breathing was growing difficult again. “En-Mirit, you need to set sêr free, or who knows what sê’ll do.”
Mirit disentangled sêrself from me and looked down at me, lips pursed.
“Dumpling, get a grip on yourself. I understand seeing this was a bit of a shock to you, but you can’t let such superstitions just take hold of you. It’s no different than a kasht, you must be able to see that. I can’t believe your feral kinsfolk just leave their dead out to rot.”
Sê watched my expression, and now it was sêr turn to look horrified.
“No,” sê said in disbelief.
I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly very aware that we had left the temple and I was still uncovered.
“They need to return to the world,” I told sêr. “How else can they be reborn?”
Mirit looked like sê was about to be sick. For a moment, I saw the whole thing from sêr eyes, someone who did not understand such basic truths of life. Someone who thought trapping people’s souls was normal. Gods, we must sound no better than animals to sêr.
So, I did not snap at sêr as had been my first instinct. Instead, I breathed deep and spoke calmly.
“Usually, it is enough to burn the body and scatter the ashes. The soul is released. Only very special people, like queens and priests, are left to the sky or earth.”
Mirit sat back, staring past me. I could see the thoughts flowing behind sêr eyes. The sight of that corpse would not leave my mind. Whatever Mirit said, I couldn't even begin to imagine what it must be like to be trapped in the husk of your own body like that, forced to perform as some sort of chthonic demon for all eternity like a grotesque doll. I looked down at the bloody cloth still grasped in my palm. Eventually, I could not hold myself back.
“En-Mirit?” I said, and sê nodded in acknowledgement. “If anything happens to me here… promise me you won’t let anyone turn me into something like that.”
I could not help but say it, though I knew it was a mistake. Sê looked at me for a moment, mouth half-open. The scolding I had expected never came, though. Sê just gave me a little smile and said;
“Of course.”
I found little sleep. Thoughts of death haunted me deep into the night. I'd talked more with Thek on the subject and learned that the temple was not the only place in Epimyra to hold such terrors. Every household maintained a ‘House of the Dead’, either dug out beneath their tower or in a larger communal necropolis. It was only former Matriarchs and those they held especially dear that were preserved in the manner I had witnessed. Most others were laid to rest - I could barely believe it when Thek used that expression, since there seemed nothing remotely restful about it to me - in wood or stone caskets, interred in the same chambers as their mothers. She told me I was only now learning about this because she'd been hesitant to broach the subject with me, knowing how I might react. It was a fair concern. The whole practice was like something children would whisper with each other about late at night to scare one another. I know it was ridiculous, but it felt like just a finger’s breadth beneath my feet the earth was teeming with corpses, dry and fleshless limbs wound so tight about each other there was no space for even dust.
That was not the only thing keeping me awake, though. With my heat having peaked some days ago and now subsiding, I found myself with far too much space within for worry. My hand still ached, and I couldn’t get myself to stop picking at the bandage. The last blood to stain Tasco's blade had been mine, and before that, his own. That sword had been his death, and for that little while between Nur-Alit burying it in his skull and dropping it to the ground, I had been certain it was to be mine as well. I could not have known the minds of the elves back then, and who was to say I knew them now? The sense of safety that had grown about me was starting to feel very fragile.
In the end, I came to a decision. It was not a very clever one, but I didn't care. I'd been wringing my hands on it for too long already. I rose and threw on a cloak. I don't know how late or early it was, but Thek was fast asleep in her cot when I passed her, clutching her pillow tight to her chest.
Once outside my chambers, I had no idea where I was going. The interior of the Sa tower was a labyrinth, all the hallways pretty much identical to me. I could probably find my way to the terrace or gardens, and possibly the bathhouse, but none of those were my destination. I wandered aimlessly until finally coming across someone. A young-looking beta standing on a stool, busy fiddling with one of the lantern-tubes. Se'd opened it on one end, and was adding some sort of white powder to the glowing liquid within. Se almost fell off ser stool at the sight of me.
“En! How- how can I help you?” se stammered.
“Could you show me to the kitchens, please?” I asked, giving ser my best smile.
I returned to find Thek pacing in the chamber, arms tightly crossed. She paused upon seeing me enter, relief written all over her face.
“Oh, Neni-nen, thank you,” she whispered and stepped up to me, hands raised awkwardly. “I had no idea where you'd gone Abre- my lady.”
“I'm sorry,” I said, and held up the little tray I was carrying. “I did not think you'd be awake yet. Sit with me, please?”
Her eyes met mine for a second, pitch-black in the dim light, then she began inspecting the half-moon shaped little pies I'd brought.
Cooking wasn't ever something I had to do regularly. The fort at Dunmaris was large enough to house servants for that. But there were certain recipes that were passed down the family I was expected to know and be able to prepare on certain special occasions. This was my best attempt at one of those.
“These are for you,” I told her. “Don't tell me that you've eaten already, it’s much too early for that even by your standards.”
Thek was looking increasingly alarmed. I prayed she did not know what this gesture usually meant. She opened her mouth to speak, paused, then nodded. Suddenly I felt very stupid, and quickly moved past her to place down the tray and seat myself - and to hide my burning cheeks.
Thankfully, Thek just followed my example and sat down on the bench across from me. Looking back, it must have been downright intimidating having me sit there staring intently at her, waiting for her to take a bite. I'd wanted to say something - You can just pick them up, they're not too hot or You don't seem to have any mutton here so I made them with beef instead, I hope it's alright - but anything I could come up with seemed too monumentally foolish to actually express. Gods, where was this coming from? I'd been so certain about this, had not even cared a bit for the stares of the servants while I’d made a mess in the kitchens trying to make a familiar meal with unfamiliar ingredients and equipment.
After an agonizing eternity, Thek finally picked one up and bit into it. She chewed, looked thoughtful for a moment, then made to say something. I spoke before she had a chance.
“I know, it's fine at best,” I said, shoulders slumping. “The dough you have here doesn't know how to rise properly.”
Thek put down the half-eaten pie and sat back. She looked like she was about to try and run away.
“I was about to say, my lady, that they are quite good,” she told me without fully meeting my eyes. “It's just… Gods, I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can eat with you just watching me like that.”
I nearly flinched, but then what she'd just said fully registered. I stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing.
“Now imagine how much worse it would be if I was standing there next to you like a statue the whole time instead of sitting with you,” I told her once I had gathered myself.
That got her smiling too. The sight made me feel a little warmer, a little lighter.
“Yes, my lady, I see your point.”, se said.
I sat up, straightening. Talking to her no longer seemed so insurmountable an obstacle as it had moments ago. I took a deep breath.
“Thek, I want to apologize,” I said. “I should not have sent you away like that. I fear I've been very selfish with you.”
Thek leaned forward, that little smile still on her face. She didn't speak, just regarded me with her chin resting on her hands. I kept going. It was hard to stop now that I had started.
“I like you, quite a lot, I think. And I'm still scared here, still alone and with you my world feels so much less fragile but I… I won't remain unmarried for long. I'm not some village girl, I do not have the freedom to choose when and who. It could never be fair to you.”
I paused to catch my breath, heart beating fast. Thek just kept looking at me, tilting her head a little. That smile just would not go away. Finally, she spoke;
“You know, Abrexa, sometimes you are so dense I can't believe it's not on purpose.”
She said it as if it were not a bad thing in the least. I blinked at her, cheeks growing red. Before I could even begin to decode that, she was making her way past the table. She lowered herself and suddenly she was right there sitting in my lap, light as a feather, fingers pulling down my scarf and twining in my hair. Her scent was all around, painting the cool night air in her colours. Her eyes were big and dark and deep and framed by lashes thick as reeds, I could hear her breathing, feel it against my skin, lips close enough to-
I had never been kissed before. Not properly, by someone who knew what she was doing. As it turned out, it was done in Epimyra the same way I had seen it done in Numantia. I lost myself in that contact, drank deep of her taste. She pulled away far too soon, and I found myself wrapping arms about her waist to keep her close. She looked at me with a smile on her parted lips, and I wondered if my taste lingered on her tongue as hers did on mine.
“I know how things are, Abrexa,” she whispered, though we were close enough I heard it clear as a shout. “I can only ever be a game to you, and I don't care.”
She pulled me closer, tightening fingers tugging at my hair. Her eyes were so wide, so hungry. Not even in the wildest dreams of my deepest heat had I ever dreamt of someone looking at me like that. What could I have ever done to earn it?
“Go ahead,” she said. “Play with me.”
It was all I ever wanted to do. I let her kiss me again, tried to match the movements of her lips. It felt hopeless - how could my fumbling self ever keep up with her? I couldn't stop though, could not even imagine stopping. Thek's hands were already pulling at my cloak, drawing it aside. Where she brushed over my bare skin she left it standing on end. This was nothing like how she had treated me before. Her touch was wild and unrestrained, her hands grasping at my back and cupping my breasts. There was a moment when her mouth left mine to catch a breath, and I seized it.
“Thek, you're a good teacher.” I said, voice breathy and urgent. I began running my hands up her thighs, pushing at the hem of her short shift. “Teach me how to touch you, please?”
She was happy to oblige. Her hands came to rest on mine and guided them in pulling away her shift, in caressing her waist and stomach and trailing up to her chest. Oh, it felt good to finally touch her like this, to take part rather than letting it happen. No more fearful half-measures. She guided my lips to her neck, and I breathed deep of her while placing kiss after kiss on her skin. She was so soft all over, every part of her in need of care and exploration.
The bench creaked beneath us as she shifted in my lap. She guided my hand further down to in-between her thighs, past the soft fuzz of her groin. Something in my expression brought a wide smile on her lips, pure and excited.
“No, not like that,” she scolded my first clumsy touches, instead guiding me in gentle, stroking motions in rhythm with her increasingly heavy breath. Her eyes were fixed on mine, a look of deep focus on her face. I couldn’t tear my gaze from her, engrossed in every twitch of her muscles, every minute gasp. It was a wonder to learn I could bring about such lovely sounds with such simple touch.
She took my wrist and pulled away my hand. I feared I had done something wrong, but when she slid off my lap it was only to lower herself to knees before me and unwrap my skirt. My heart thrummed with anticipation at the feel of her hands pushing apart my thighs. A line of kisses bloomed along my thigh, so slowly that in the end I could not take it anymore and threw a leg over her shoulder to drag her in. I kicked against the table in the process, knocking away the tray and scattering the untouched pies all over the floor. I was in no state to care, my world narrowed down to the deft play of Thek's tongue.
Time began to get fuzzy, there. I remember her pulling herself up to kiss me with drenched lips, myself asking in-between deep breaths if Mirit's present to us was still around. She laughed and stood, taking me by the hand to lead me back to my bed. On the way she pulled the toy from the very back of one of the shelves, knocking away a stack of little bronze boxes in her haste.
This time when she was poised above me, tips of her hairs brushing against my chest and shoulders, I did not hesitate to pull her in for another taste of her lovely lips. It was like this that I felt her slide inside, the glass surface of the toy smooth and warm within me. She did so slowly, with care. It was not the monumental sensation I had feared it would be, no eternal promise or loss of innocence. It simply felt good. I moaned deep into the kiss, smiling wide and feeling Thek smile in turn.
This too she was good at. I sought to reciprocate at first, kissing at her neck and playing with her nipples as she’d shown me, moving my hips in concert with hers. It did not last long. I found myself helpless beneath her, not out of worry or hesitation, but out of sheer wondrous sensation. Clutching tight to her I gave up control of this dance entirely, trusting myself to her warmth and skill and passion. She was pure life, her breath and heartbeat all I could hear, the scent of her sweat and lust the only thing in the air around us.
We lay together well into the morning, bouts of passion interrupted by periods of simply resting content, with limbs intertwined. During one such lull I looked down to her and brushed the hair from her face. There was something in her manner I had noticed, shining through at certain times, often when she was sleepy or otherwise at rest around me.
“You know, I won't let you sleep in that cot again for as long as I have you,” I told her, voice low.
She grinned and stretched in my arms, a light flush growing on her cheeks.
“Whatever you wish of me, nen.”