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

freely over her new toy, Tristan, and eye Etienne with coy smirks.

All of which Delyth did her best to ignore. She could not imagine being a prisoner in her own mind while some other consciousness used her body to touch some man she had no knowledge of, no interest in. It made her sick just to think of it.

And yet, interceding could put Alphonse in even more danger. Enyo had proven that she wasn’t above hurting her vassal.

It wasn’t until nightfall that Delyth was startled out of this grim mood. Enyo tossed a freshly slaughtered opossum into her arms with a snide remark about ruining a perfectly good kill before sauntering off to ‘commune with the forest.’ She was useless while the others made her food, set up her tent, and dug the latrine, but when supper was ready, Enyo obediently held out her hands for her bowl of stew. She’d eat at least.

But there was no sign of Alphonse.

“Tristan, Crael,” Enyo murmured from Tristan’s lap, her tone practically affectionate. “I always share a tent. Delyth has been my companion mostly, but perhaps you’d prefer the honor?”

It was only with the greatest restraint that Delyth didn’t scream her objections.

Thankfully, Etienne seemed to have figured out that telling Enyo ‘no’ was generally a bad idea. Instead, he went for a more diplomatic approach. “Our current sleeping arrangements worked well for all parties involved.”

Whatever. Delyth was seriously considering just castrating Tristan then and there. See how Enyo would like him after that.

Enyo just sniffed in distaste.

⚄

Tristan leaned back, his empty stew bowl on the ground, watching Enyo gaze up towards the night sky. His eyes didn’t follow hers, instead trailing down the length of her back towards his lap.

The others would not really be able to stop her from sharing his tent. He’d brought his own, after all, and who was to say no to a Goddess? It had been a supremely excellent day and one that would only be that much better when they retired for the night.

Or so he hoped until Enyo stiffened against his thighs and her bowl went clattering to the ground.

“Hey,” he started, checking to ensure that none of the hot soup was near his lap. He began to relax when he realized the bowl was empty, only for Enyo to give a cry so out of character that Tristan jumped. What in the Cursed Realms?

“Etienne?” she squeaked, reaching out a hand towards the mage.

Both companions leaped to their feet, Delyth holding out a hand to bodily haul Enyo away from him. Etienne was there only a second later, both of them equal parts relief and guilt.

And where the hell had Enyo gone?

The girl cowered behind Etienne, clinging to the boy’s arm, who, in turn, was partially behind Delyth. “Who is that? Where are we?” She looked around a second after, clearly confused and disoriented. “What day is it?!” Hysteria turned her musical voice into something wretched and weak—the bleating of a rabbit about to be slaughtered.

✶

Etienne turned to Alphonse, his face tight with concern. It had been a long day for all of them and Alphonse—well, who knew what sort of struggle she had been stuck in while he and Delyth tried to please Enyo.

For a second, an image from that morning flashed through Etienne’s mind: Enyo, her hand clamped around Alphonse’s neck, slowly squeezing tighter while Delyth frantically tried to get her to stop.

Etienne ran a hand back through his hair.

“It's been one day. We woke up to Enyo,” he said. “She was irate and very… persuasive. She wanted to go into town, and we needed supplies, so we went.” —Any more detail and Enyo might figure out that he had restocked a few of his more common magic supplies.

The trip into the clan and the hasty retreat that followed had left Etienne angry. He had heard Delyth’s explanation for not fighting harder to rid them of Tristan, but he disagreed. Surely, between the two of them, they could protect Alphonse.

Did she really see him as that weak? It was only thanks to him that she could even enter the settlement!

“As for him, ask Delyth,” he said and glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the warrior wince. Nevermind. He refused to feel guilty. She could have stopped him.

“I—He—” Delyth didn’t seem to know how to explain it. “There was a fight in town, and he helped me save you. We wouldn’t have let him or Enyo do anything, I swear it.”

❀

Alphonse eyed the man warily as he seemed to watch her as well. He appeared baffled by her behavior, and some part of the healer relaxed at that. He hadn’t known Alphonse was in there. He had assumed Enyo was the only soul within the body.

That made Alphonse’s grip loosen the slightest on Etienne’s arm.

She swallowed and winced. Her throat was dry and sore.

“Delyth?” Amber eyes swiveled towards the priestess. How did she know this man? Besides his helping them randomly in the settlement. It seemed like an odd reason to allow him to continue on this journey…

Wouldn’t Enyo just be as much a threat to him as she was the others? Another body to feed and protect?

Well.

Perhaps not protect if he was handy in a fight.

“That’s Tristan. We met him in the settlement, and Enyo… liked him. He knew who she was and where we’re headed,” Delyth said, trying to explain.

Alphonse flinched as Tristan stood. Not because she feared him, she didn’t think he’d suddenly attack. It was just that she could still feel his arm about her waist, her rear perched so comfortably against his pelvis.

She was a healer, not unused to the various human conditions and forms but… Alphonse had always experienced them in sterile, clinical settings.

Lounging about the fire, snuggled up… It was entirely new. And foreign.

Tristan examined her closely, leaving the healer feeling exposed even with the greater distance between them. She reached up to straighten her veil, only to realize too late it was gone. Whatever