Wherever that may be

Arc I (2) - 550 AD

"I'm sorry", the tallest girl says finally.

"It's fine", the lady answers, "I can never stay mad at you for too long".

Lizbeth smiles brightly, and her friend mirrors her grin.

-

Jehanne spends the afternoon of her seventeenth birthday surrounded by people that love her title.

She spends the evening of her seventeenth birthday with the person who loves her.

They sit in front of the windows of the tallest vigilance tower – the one that is seldom used in times of peace – shielded by an almost magical mist.

Jehanne is wearing the most frivolous dress her mother could choose for her. Lizbeth is wearing one that once belonged to the lady.

Jehanne thinks that she should be jealous of the fact that it looks better on her friend's tall figure than on herself.

What she's currently feeling is quite different.

She's heard about crushes, about lovers, about romance. Daughters of minor royals have whispered in twisted gardens about their desire to try all of the above. They have mentioned warriors, princes, and even peasants.

Jehanne has felt somehow connected to them; she wants to experience the beauty of passion. But when she thinks about love, all she can think about is Lizbeth. Lizbeth and her expressive eyes, plump lips, deep voice. Jehanne can only think about the curve of her nose, her long fingers caressing her scalp, her fruity scent engulfing her completely.

She thinks that it is not fair. Not fair for herself, to be different, and not fair for Lizbeth, lovely Liz, who is willing to give it all without asking anything in exchange.

Lizbeth deserves the moon, the stars, and the sky, and not this.

"Jenn, you are crying. What's wrong?" the tallest girl asks in concern.

The lady sobs.

"Was it the celebration? Did your mother say anything mean to you? Please, let me know".

The tallest girl wraps her right arm around her best friend's shoulders, an Jehanne feels as her body reacts helplessly at the contact.

"I'm so sorry, Liz. I just cannot help it".

The long-haired girl grasps Jehanne's chin with her hand, turning her soft face lovingly so they can stare at each other.

"What can't you help, Jenn?"

The shortest girl takes a deep breath.

"I love you", she lets out.

Lizbeth stares at the princess for a few seconds. She doesn't pull away. Her mind works out the meaning of what has been said slowly, letting everything in.

She doesn't need any further explanation. She knows her friend like the palm of her hand.

So when she leans in to catch her princess' lips between her own, she does it without hesitating. Jehanne kisses back, instinctually first, and delightfully after two beats. The mist outside reaches their minds and fills them in completely, everything becoming fuzzy, and marvelous, and addictive. The lady lets her hands cup the tallest girl's neck, unwilling to let go. Lizbeth answers by tilting her head experimentally.

Once they pull apart -never too apart- Lizbeth speaks first.

"I know this is not supposed to be. But it feels right".

"It is perfect", Jehanne answers.

They stare at each other as if they were infinite.

"I love you back, Jenn", Lizbeth murmurs, "so much I think it spills out of my heart".