A dozen small towns dotted the fords and lakes along the Raena River. Mostly, they were built as trading posts near various jungle tribes, or as daily rest stops at predictable distances from High Raena or Ith. Because of those two cities, this was one of the most travelled water ways in the known world. The Sea’s Sword—out of her element—was passed frequently by riverboats heading in either direction. Her crew found the streets and inns of the waterfront towns full of travellers and merchants.
In Nellehem—well past halfway to High Raena—Farek and his comrades stayed at the village inn. The place had no name, save the Nellehem Inn, for the town was smaller than most. Despite the lack of competition—or perhaps due to it—the inn was enormous. Its two storeys seemed to span an entire block of the town.
While much of the crew and most of the guards slept on the ship, Farek, Sievus, Enora Roek, Ambassador Tolia, and Lord Sha sought accommodations this time. Farek and Sievus shared a room, while the others each had a room to themselves or to share with their servants. Before retiring, they shared a toast to smooth waters, in the common room. A few stayed drinking longer, but Farek paced himself. It was hard for him to feel entertained these days.
Not long after Sievus had dimmed their lantern, Farek heard a gentle tap on the door. By the time he sat up, Sievus was already on his feet. The guard held out his hand—he would check if it was safe. He peeked out the door, then chuckled quietly and walked back to his bed. He jabbed his thumb toward the hallway and smirked at Farek.
Curious, Farek went to the door. He opened it enough to look out and found Enora Roek standing there, smiling and blushing. She was wearing her nightclothes instead of her dress, but was modestly covered. “Enora?” Farek asked. “Can I help you?”
The beautiful young woman smiled. “I couldn’t get to sleep. Would you care to join me?”
“Enora—” Farek began.
“Listen,” Enora said. She took a deep, shaky breath. Farek politely stepped into the hall, where they could have more privacy. The cartographer pushed her hair back and explained, “When I first heard I was to journey alongside you, I knew only the Lord Gallendris of Soros—the infamous Noressi bachelor. I worried you would try getting under my dress and then move on to the next romp, or whatever…but that’s not what happened. You’re nothing like that Farek. You’re well-meaning, responsible, and sensitive. I mean, you have the charm and looks I had heard about, but you’re so much more than that.” Then she laughed nervously and went on, “I don’t know where I’m going with this. I’m not asking you for one night, but I’m also not asking you for every night to come. I’m just asking—would you consider it?”
Farek chuckled. He was caught totally off-guard. He turned halfway back to his door, just to pause and think about what she had said. Of course, they had been flirty, but Farek had tried to accomplish the opposite. With a war looming over his homeland—likely due to his own actions—and the sovereign order to wed someone of influence in Lo Mallago, Farek had already decided not to pursue intimacy with Enora.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stepped backward from him toward the door opposite his, even though it was not her own. “I—”
“I’d like that,” Farek said, surprising them both. He turned back to her smiling. “What’s there to lose, right? I like you, Enora, and I’d love to join you.”
“Oh.” Then she smiled, nodded, and led the way to the door next to Farek’s.
They shared a drink from a flask she had paid the innkeeper to fill, while they chatted nervously. They had spent weeks together recently—without any nerves—but now their words had another meaning. Their curious glances spoke more than their vocabulary. They shared a kiss after the flask, and then they shared the bed.
After, Farek lay in the moonlight cast through the windows they had opened to let in the breeze. Enora lay on her chest, half-tangled in the sheets, while Farek traced patterns across her skin. It’s been so long, he thought. He absently wondered where Silea had gone, after leaving Soros. Here, with Enora, serving his land…Farek wouldn’t change a thing. His finger settled on a bumpy spot and he noticed a cluster of scars on the back of her shoulder.
Enora tensed immediately and Farek withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, unsure what else he could say.
“It’s no matter,” Enora said, quietly, but it was evident Farek should not touch those scars.
After a few moments, Farek paused his hand once more, gently resting it on her warm back. “May I ask?”
Enora sighed and rolled over so she could face him. She pulled the sheets up against herself.
“Like you said—it’s no matter. You don’t have to share if you don’t want,” Farek assured her.
“My father was a drunk,” Enora said. “You know the sort. They hide behind the Noressi elitism—from the outside, they’re all noble and nationalist, but behind closed doors…”
“He did that to you?” Farek asked, horrified.
“It was an accident. Well—an accident of sorts,” Enora assured him. She pushed her hair back over her shoulders and smiled weakly. “He broke a pane of glass in the window. I was barely more than a child and I wanted to help him. He shoved me off him, cursing, and I fell in the glass. I have a few others….” She showed him similar marks on one knee and a few at the back of her left palm that he had not noticed before.
“I’m sorry,” Farek said again, more earnestly than before. “It sounds like an unpleasant life.”
Enora shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad,” she said. “There are not many more stories like that one. Some, I suppose.”
“Come here,” Farek said, and pulled her close to him again. Together they watched the square of moonlight move across the floor, until sleep came knocking.