He nodded into her neck and she laughed at herself. “But seriously, we’re partners now, which means we’re equal, alright?”
“Alright,” he said before whispering into her shoulder, “but I can still be very grateful I got to save yeh, out of anyone else in the world. I have it on very good authority yeh are smart, talented, and kind.”
“Hey!” She laughed. “And gorgeous and sexy and…something else!”
“Oh no, love,” he whispered against her ear. “I don’t need to know those things second hand. I trust my own judgment that you'rethe mostgorgeous and sexy far more than yours.”
Tears stung her eyes as Berne pushed himself off of her and cupped his cock in his hand before lunging for his shirt. He wadded it up and shoved it between her legs. “Hold that, I will be right back.” Once his pants were back on, he kissed her lightly and moved toward the door.
“Where are you going?” she called after him, bewildered.
“I’m getting yeh a chamberpot from somewhere so yeh can pee inside!”1He winked at her and shut the door. Sirin burst out laughing, marveling at her fortune. This morning, she’d been convinced she was getting close to finding something she’d looked for her entire life. She’d had no idea she would find it and something far more precious than she’d ever imagined.
1.I am happy to report we installed a flush toilet shortly thereafter.
Chapter twelve
Berne
IN WHICH NEW ACQUAINTANCES ARE MADE, BERNE’S TRAINING BEGINS IN EARNEST—PROVING A STIFF PUPIL—AND EQUIPMENT IS ORDERED
Sirinwas…amarvel.
The following morning, she flitted about the town, notebook in hand, interviewing people and taking notes on each people’s preferences and customs. She carefully recorded which groups had specific greetings and food requirements, and noted which people showed a specific interest or aptitude she wanted to explore. He’d trailed behind her, arms steadily filling with welcome gifts from her growing pack of admirers. He knew he looked a love-sick fool, but he hadn’t ever felt so happy.
She’d left her vest at home and carefully dressed similar to other women in the village, rolling her sleeves up past her elbows and allowing the top buttons of her shirt to remain open. Upon seeing many of the women didn’t fret about tying their hair back, Sirin had gleefully freed hers from her braid.
“Where I was born, on an island off the coast of the mainland, we only wore our hair loose when we were young but all of our bodices had big, poofy shorter sleeves which would let the air in to cool us,” she said. “This reminds me of that.” She smiled at him wistfully, like it was a secret between them. “Makes me feel like this is really my home.”
Berne cupped her cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. “I’m glad,” he whispered. “I want yeh to feel like this is your home as much as mine. When we get your new clothes made, yeh should tell them to make some with big sleeves like that.”1
“I’d like that. I have a few dresses that might—“ She gasped when a young centaur girl walked by them. Sirin held up a finger and went running off to meet her. On the way, she tripped, grinding her knees and skirt into the grass. Berne’s heart skipped in panic as he leaped to catch her, but she was too far. She stood up, wincing, before Berne could even arrive. He realized then, how vulnerable he was to her, how much he was already beginning to care. His feelings were quickly solidifying into something like love, and he liked how Sirin seemed to need him.
Sirin was asking the young centaur—Maerin—for a drawing when Berne joined them. The young girl agreed, she’d only been off to see a friend and didn’t mind the delay, and Sirin sat on the grass, motioning for Berne to sit too.
Her remarkably lifelike sketches made him notice things about people he had never even thought to pay attention to. Before her sketch of the young centaur, he hadn’t given a second thought to the fact that the hair on their heads did not match that of their bodies. Like everyone in Sanctuary, they had white hair on their heads, but their bodies had any number of equine colorings.
As Sirin sketched, he leaned close and whispered in her ear, gratified to see her shiver at his closeness. “I’d like yeh to try to be more careful with yourself. Rushing about like that all the time is going to get yeh hurt.”
“Oh hush,” she whispered back, entirely focused on her notebook. “My hastiness doesn’t hurt anyone but myself. If I get injured it’s not like it would affect anyone but me.”
Berne put a hand under her chin. “When yeh were hurt was one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced and yeh weren’t even properly mine yet. I only have the one wife yeh see, and I’ll not respond well to her being injured.”
She turned her face to his, and he was drunk on those big, deep eyes. She blinked several times, and he thought there might have been liquid pooling along her lower lid as she nodded. He tucked some of her hair behind her ear as she whispered, “Alright.”
He was pleased to see other people were as taken with her as he’d been. That others were also swept up in her special brand of excitement, pulled along by the current of her enthusiasm.
Shortly after the sketch was finished, one of the young finfolk boys, Sigfinn, Berne thought, leaped out of the water and introduced himself to her, ignoring Berne entirely. Berne walked behind them, chuckling at Sirin as she tried to downplay her surprise. Her dark eyes flitted all over the boy’s blue-scaled skin, webbed hands and feet, and large eyes. She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips. Was she trying to determine if Sig had gills? She raised her eyebrows, a gleeful look crossing her face before she turned her attention back to what the boy was saying. Without looking down, she scribbled something in her notebook and snapped it shut.
“...and yeh know, I live in the river and the canals, so I can get as much lunula as yeh need. We could get special dispensation if we needed samples from the Lady’s lake!” Sigfinn was bouncing on his toes, his eye ridges raised with hope.
Sirin smiled at the boy. Good Lady, she was beautiful when she smiled. “I would love to have help—if you think you can get away from your studies…” She trailed off, her eyes questioning.
“Oh, um, actually,” Sigfinn said, his face blushing purple. “I am at the point where I’m ready to apprentice, and I know it’s sudden, but I thought I might ask you. I’ve been trying to figure out where I could apprentice for weeks now and nothing has felt right, yeh know?”
Sirin nodded. “I do. I could certainly use an assistant, but I don’t know if I will have the funds to pay for an apprenticeship. I haven’t nearly gotten that far yet.” Sigfinn’s face fell and his eyes dropped to the ground. Sirin grabbed his arm and continued. “But if we can get that worked out, then I would be happy to entertain your bid. For reference, do you have any school work you could show me that demonstrates your writing ability, scientific knowledge, especially chemistry and biology, and perhaps your artistic aptitude?”
Sigfinn’s smiled broadly, his pointed teeth taking up half of his face. “Oh yes, those were my favorites!” he said. “I have a paper on the hybridization of the winged lynx that might work!”
