Vassal Sterling D'Este (top 10 books of all time .TXT) 📖

companions. She was supposed to be fostering goodwill and— and comradery.

“Hmmmm, is it the first one?” Delyth asked. “Three years of age seems terribly early to cast a spell.”

Perhaps Etienne had not meant to give two lies. Something about the childhood game must have brought him back to childhood answers. He had not broken any bones before he met Enyo.

“I think you’ve only three siblings,” she offered, giving Delyth an apologetic smile.

Etienne nodded, relief plain in his face.“That makes it your turn, Allee.” He was smiling at her more freely than he had in days, his face open and uncreased. Likely because she had not called out his mistake.

Alphonse glanced up at the sun, still high enough overhead. They’d walk another hour or two more. “Alright. My family wanted me to devote my life to Mother Agathi—she’s a Goddess in Ingola. She attests that gentleness and piety are the best paths to happiness and a full life.” Alphonse added, uncertain if Delyth had heard of the Goddess before, amber eyes flickering her way with the unspoken question. Mother Agathi must seem rather pathetic to a warrior like Delyth.

Alphonse actually found herself blushing.

“I have a betrothed back home, a farmer named Henri. His family owns the farm next to ours. They grow very lovely peaches.” Alphonse swallowed hard, remembering how sweet the peaches back home had been.

“And… when I was quite small, perhaps five or six years of age, my father had to give me seven lashings with the switch for disobeying his order to kill a chicken from our coop and bring it in for supper. Mother Agathi teaches us that disobedience to one's parents is disobedience to her, since she is the Mother of all. It was my father’s duty to teach me quickly and surely that such behavior would only lead me down the wrong path. Loyalty and obedience—” She cut herself off. They understood, and she didn’t want to preach.

Alphonse had deliberately picked things about her childhood and past that Etienne might not know about her. They often did not speak of her family, and she wanted the game to be fair after all.

༄

Delyth had never heard of Mother Agathi before, but she thought that it might explain Alphonse’s conservative dress. Though perhaps not her gentleness. The warrior thought that was something of her own.

She wasn’t sure why Alphonse blushed about the Goddess. It's not like she could help the faith she was raised in. Delyth blinked. That… was true. You could not choose the people you were born—or given to. She shook her head and kept listening.

The warrior did not know Alphonse well enough to know which of the three statements was false, but she did know which she hoped was false.

“Is it the second one?” she asked. Something in Delyth didn’t like the idea of Alphonse betrothed.

Etienne had pressed his brows together, as though this one was a difficult one for him as well. “I’m going to go with the third,” he said

She snorted, or rather as close as Alphonse came to snorting. More like an exhale through her nose loudly. “I’m very good at this game, as I have just stumped you both. My sister, Sephonse, was destined for Mother Agathi. I was never good enough to be considered.” She did seem a bit forlorn about that.  “As winner, I declare you must each make dinner one night this week.”

Delyth blinked at Alphonse in some surprise. That meant that she was betrothed. To some peach farmer in the soft country of Ingola no less.

Gods, why was that annoying? It wouldn’t change their quest.

“Alphonse, you never told me you were engaged.” Etienne was clearly startled, something that Delyth found satisfying. She wasn’t the only one taken aback.

“It’s not a love match, obviously,” she said offhandedly. “My parents sent me to become a healer from Moxous, our town will need one when Healer Rone passes, and Henri’s parents own the largest farm in the area. They produce crops for most of the neighboring villages, as well as our own. It was decided before I left for Moxous that when I came back, we’d be married. To strengthen the community.

“I haven’t seen or spoken to Henri since I was eleven… He can’t write so…” She shrugged. “No love letters.  It’s common practice, Etienne, don’t look so shocked.”

Delyth snorted. “You Ingolans claim that the people of Thloegr are barbarians, but even I can write,” she said, just a bit too chipper. “Besides, I won a round too. Only Etienne should have to make dinner.”

❀

Alphonse made no comment on Henri’s ability to write. Her village was poor. His family needed him to work. Had she not been chosen for Moxous, she could have very well been much the same as Henri.

Instead, she shook her head.

“Enyo doesn’t like Etienne’s cooking,” she proclaimed, a smile lighting her eyes even though she tried her best to keep her face solemn.

“Are you sure it's Enyo that doesn’t like his cooking?” Delyth’s voice was lowered slightly, conspiratorial as she smiled down at Alphonse

Behind her, Etienne protested good-naturedly. “My cooking is incredibly nutritional!”

The warrior rolled her eyes. “Not to worry, Alphonse. I’ll make something for you.”

Alphonse was wheezing as she suppressed her giggles, not wanting to hurt Etienne’s feelings but definitely knowing he was… a basic cook at most.

Sometimes he burnt their meals.

Sometimes he undercooked them.

But to be fair, Etienne had never needed to learn how to cook or camp. He had grown up in the city, then immediately entered Moxous, where all chores were attended to by the staff of the school. This journey was like nothing he would have ever experienced before.

“I would never say such things about my friend,” she defended him, choking on her laughter. “It is most definitely Enyo who doesn’t like the cooking. I love it. I think the bits of bone remaining are… ah… additional fiber.” She winced and then clamped a hand over her mouth to keep the giggles at bay.

Etienne pretended to be offended. “Fine!” he