Chapter 30 – Sweet Victory

Wherein Bosra and Rose talk about what happened, and Valentina enjoys herself at the party.

Rose glanced at the knight, Ilyas. He was held upright by two of his friends as a third muttered under his breath. Rose saw this man’s hands gain a golden glow. He gently brushed them over the spots that Bosra had hit. First his cheekbone, then his shoulder and hip. While she watched, the swelling went down. She saw Ilyas face go lax, saw him heave a sigh and place a hand on his friend’s shoulder in gratitude.

Ilyas slid his arms into his jacket and retied his cravat. He touched his cheek and wiggled his jawbone. The discolouration was still there, marring his otherwise pretty face. That would have to fade in its own time.

With a few pats on the back by his friends, Ilyas went back inside, throwing a look over his shoulder at Bosra.

Silent and glowering Bosra, whose own jaw was gaining a darker tinge. Violence was seeping from her in waves. Rose guessed that was why none of the onlookers approached them for a chat.

She understood. She never before considered the highlander woman to be dangerous. Right now, however, Rose was thoroughly grateful not to have Bosra as an opponent.

They found a ladies’ room that offered a modicum of privacy. Bosra’s scowl chased away whomever did not flee outright.

"Brittany is going to come at you now too," Rose said quietly, as Bosra’s make-up was touched up by an attending maid. "She's like that."

"Let her come," Bosra replied, staring at Rose via the silvered looking glass. "I'll behead the viper before it strikes again." 

Rose looked at the tips of her shoes, peeking out from under the hem of her skirt. She had to admire the highlander’s relentlessness. It reminded her of her father, and of the holy warrior that would visit sometimes. Maybe that was a characteristic found in all adventurers. Besides a lust for gold, and the lack of scruples over wanton killing, and the general penchant for destruction. 

She wondered if she herself could bring those traits to bear. 

Thinking of Brittany... of all the mistreatment and mismanagement taking place at school... The honest answer was that she probably could, if she got pissed off enough.

As they waited for the maid to finish with Bosra’s make-up, Rose and Bosra both snacked on some saltine crackers, ate a bonbon filled with cherry-liqueur, and drank a glass of fortifying sherry.

"It's not a healer, but this should help with the tension in your neck," the maid said, offering a healing potion she dug up from a mending basket.  

Bosra downed it in one gulp with the experience of one who had done this countless times before. She closed her eyes and sighed. 

"Better indeed." It took the edge off the pain.

"Thank you, for stepping up like that," Rose said. The maid was done and stepped away.

Bosra stood. "Friends are friends."

"Yeah. And you're the best." Rose hugged the taller woman, smacked a kiss onto her cheek by pulling her head down by the braids. "Your bruises are still showing," she continued, seeing the dark bluish-grey discolouration on the clanswoman's cheek. 

"Hmm." 

Rose had to laugh. "You don't care, do you? Good for you." 

"Ain't gonna change nothing." 

"More sherry?"

Bosra held out the fragile carved glass in response. It looked miniscule in her big paw.

"I should've expected Brittany’s presence. I know she comes from money, and that her father is titled."

A huff from Bosra. 

"I shouldn’t have been shocked by her calling me out like that. I don’t know why I was," Rose pondered aloud, sharp wrinkles lining her brow as she frowned. "Maybe because I expected better manners in a place like this."  

"She’s a bad lot. Bad breeding. Worse raising." 

It was Rose's turn to snort. She never wanted to say that out loud, but she had thought it.  

"Didn’t scare you, did it, me smacking the knight?"

Rose shook her head. She had two older brothers and one younger one. They fought. Her father let them. They had to learn their limits in some place. Better it be at home where they could do so in safety. So no, the violence hadn’t shocked her.

"She has the world at her feet," Rose mused, "yet she chooses to be mean."

"Ain't no reason for it, Pupper." Not one Rose was going to discover, anyway. "Gotta accept that she’s nasty and work from there. Gotta confront her and keep your boundaries clear. You're the farmer, she's the wolf that comes to steal your flock. Can't let her do this."

It was a veritable waterfall of words for the otherwise silent woman.

"Yeah..." Rose sighed. The metaphor made sense. "I hadn't looked at it like that."

"Nah. You were trying to be civil out in the wild. Ain't no such thing there." 

Rose straightened and smiled, taking Bosra’s words as a compliment, as well as advice.

"Shall we go for dinner?" 

"Hmm. If there's only scraps left, I'm going home."

"In that case, I’ll join you." Rose could barely keep a laugh from erupting. 

Valentina intercepted her friends as they entered the dining room.

"Here you are," she panted. "I found a healer. He'll take a look at you after dinner."

"Good. Cause I ain't going nowhere before." 

"There will be plenty of food throughout the night, you know," Valentina told Bosra. "Service will continue until dawn. The dessert buffet will be opened around three o’clock." At night. This night.

Valentina caught Rose and Bosra sharing a disbelieving look. She rolled her eyes. "Come on, girlfriends..." She forgot her friends had no experience with parties that started after ten o’clock at night and then ran until five or six in the morning.

The dinner line had dissolved into couples and groups eating, and into dancers twirling in time with the music. The garden paths were well trodden, as people went outside for some air.

Approaching the buffet, they were directly behind the healer Valentina had convinced to take a look at Bosra.

"Young Lady Effyne," he nodded to her, glancing up, and up, at the clanswoman.

"You couldn’t, by any chance, heal her right now, could you?" Valentina entreated, fluttering her lashes.

The man, wearing a suit that had seen a few seasons, resigned himself to his fate with a sigh. "Why not."

He rubbed his palms. Laying them on Bosra’s arm, he closed his eyes. Barely discernible light flickered where he touched her. A tingling sensation travelled up her arm to the spots that hurt most. Looking down at herself, Bosra was convinced she saw light moving under her skin.

It would have scared the shit out of her, if it had been the first time that had happened. But it wasn’t, and it didn’t. Healing magic was often visible. That was how you knew you had a healer touching you, and not just some charlatan.

"There. All done." He removed his hands. "Now if you’ll let me have my-"

Rose handed him a plate of delicacies. "Here you are, and thank you."

With a neutral face that turned into a little frown, he accepted the plate, picking out one caviar topped canapé and setting it aside. "Thank you. Enjoy your evening." He nodded to the ladies and walked away.  

The rest of the night was not nearly as enervating. While Bosra cut attempts at conversation about her heroic deeds short, Valentina danced with various gentlemen. She enjoyed the little morsels servers presented on silvered trays; bits of food that challenged her taste buds. She drank champagne. She took a stroll through the garden with the Baroness and complimented the woman on finding the right balance between subversive and overdone.

By the time the clocks struck seven, she was floating on air, feeling powerful, feeling seen, feeling loved. 

The world was lit with the predawn grey that gave it the impression of being an illustration as they made their way to the carriage. Valentina sat back and let the gentle sway of movement lull her into a deep sense of contentment.

She watched houses and streets go by. For a moment, she was disoriented when the carriage turned to go downhill, instead of up to Effyne Palace. 

Suddenly aware that she could hear her companions breathing, she settled. She was going home with Bosra and Rose. To their house. To their home. 

Fatigue assaulted her, causing a certain sense of vertigo. She was determined to resist falling asleep. Napping in the carriage would only cause her disorientation. A smile tugged at her mouth as Rose's hand found hers. She squeezed gently. Rose squeezed back.  

Looking at the signs of a radiant dawn fast approaching, Valentina thanked Nightsoul for bringing these two women into her life. This feeling of belonging, right in this moment, must be an approximation of the divine. 

~

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