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

said with mock severity. “I can see that my abilities are not appreciated by the present company. Why don’t you just have Delyth cook all your meals then?”

The warrior quieted a bit at that but didn’t seem ready to give up the joke. “At least then, the meals would always be cooked!”

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At camp that night, Delyth insisted on cooking dinner, just to prove that her version of their simple fair would be more edible than Etienne’s. She was rather proud of the result too. It certainly hadn’t been extravagant food, but it had been enjoyable.

She was full and content. It had been a thoroughly pleasant day overall, with only the briefest appearance of Enyo, and the warrior was genuinely beginning to enjoy the company of her companions.

Now, she waited patiently beneath softly whispering boughs for the water Alphonse was boiling for tea. It had only been a couple weeks since Delyth had first tried the strange blend of spices and herbs Alphonse had brought with her, and already she had decided it was one of her favorite times of day, especially when Enyo was not making an appearance.

Delyth took a deep breath of cool night air. Etienne had already slipped into his tent, claiming that the evening was too cold for his tastes even with the steady roar of the fire in their camp’s center and the promise of a hot drink to chase away the chill.

The warrior didn’t mind, for all she was starting to get accustomed to his company.

“Is it ready yet?” she asked companionably, eyeing the pot in the center of the flames.

“Is patience not a virtue the Temple of Enyo teaches?” Alphonse’s lips quirked upwards teasingly.

Delyth cracked a smile at Alphonse’s light-hearted scolding and tugged her thoughts back to the healer’s question. “Would you believe it if I told you it was?”

The priests at Glynfford believed that winter was an example of Enyo’s patience for spring, that the slow unfurling of every leaf and the long build-up of a thunderstorm showed that Enyo was patient in her dealings with the earth.

Obviously, none of them had actually met her.

Alphonse’s eyes twinkled in the firelight as she leaned forward to peer into the pot. The water was indeed boiling. She gathered up her skirts as a pad to protect her hand and reached for the pot handle, steadily transferring the contents into two mugs, which already had the herb blend waiting.

Setting the pot back down, she scooted closer to Delyth.

“There. Now we just wait until it steeps. Do you think you can manage that, mighty warrior?” She teased, leaning back into the shadow of warmth Delyth’s wings created, surprising the warrior—not for the first time— just how comfortable Alphonse seemed to be near her. It wasn’t that many days ago when she had woken up to find the healer pressed against the curve of one of her wings as Alphonse slept.

“I can be patient,” Delyth teased. “It’s only that you make such good tea.”

Carefully, as though Alphonse might startle or move away if she made any sudden motions, Delyth extended a wing so that it curled loosely around the space where Alphonse sat, a living tent of sorts to break the wind.

Alphonse heaved a sigh in gratitude and glanced at the wing protecting her, arching a brow at Delyth.

“Don’t you ever feel cold?” she asked, reaching up to readjust the veil over her hair modestly. “I wake up sometimes, in the night. Or maybe Enyo wakes me up. But it’s so terribly cold and I have all those blankets, and there you are. Snoozing. Not shivering. It’s amazing, really.” Her eyes on the teacups, Alphonse leaned forward, picked them up, and handed one to Delyth.

The priestess wrapped her hands around the cup gratefully and inhaled some of the fragrant steam. It had become familiar so quickly.

“I do get cold,” she admitted. “I’ve flown through storms to reach the air above the clouds where it's so frigid that my breaths come in little puffs of steam. Down here, though, it is warm to me.” Delyth took an experimental sip from her cup to see if it had cooled enough to drink, then a larger mouthful when she found that it had.

“You could have told me that you’ve been waking up cold,” she said, a touch self-conscious. “It is a small tent, and my wingspan is quite large. If—if you needed another cover.”

Delyth felt her face grow a bit warm and hoped that the light from the fire was too poor to make it visible.

❀

Alphonse took her time sipping her tea as well, both hands wrapped around the mug, sapping the warmth there. If it was this chilly in the lowlands, then surely the mountain ranges would be terrible. “I… I’m already such a burden. To you and Etienne, both,” she started finally. “I know it’s difficult, being near me.” She sighed and looked over at Delyth, the pain and guilt evident on her face. “I didn’t think it right to burden you further. You’ve already done so much for me.”

The priestess brushed Alphonse’s arm with her own. “I’m here to protect you,” she said, holding Alphonse’s gaze steadily. “You aren’t a burden. Besides, it wouldn’t exactly be a sacrifice to stretch out a bit.”

It was the last comment that finally convinced Alphonse, and she nodded slowly in agreement. “If it helps you,” she murmured, though she knew it was for her own wellbeing that Delyth had offered. Some sense of obligation to the vassal.

Glancing at the wing near her, Alphonse let one finger brush along the edge. It was soft to the touch.

Realizing she hadn’t asked for permission, Alphonse withdrew her finger and grimaced.  “I apologize. I’m a healer, I should know better… I just… I’ve never met anyone with wings. And your wings are very, very beautiful. Interesting.” She’d been itching to examine them for a while now, truth be told.

But it hadn’t ever seemed like