At daybreak, Julie woke to an almost ticklish sensation on the back of her neck. As she stirred, a hand gently stroked her head, the light kisses climbing to her ears, a warm breath sending a shiver down her spine.

“Good morning, my love,” Sammy whispered.

For the first time in a while, Julie hadn’t been the first to wake up and so showed a sleepy face when she turned around. Such softness in her gaze, sweetness to her smile—Sammy could barely keep herself from indulging.

“G’morning,” Julie mumbled.

“How do you feel?” Sammy asked, at the same time bringing her fingertips between them to rub circles on Julie’s abdomen.

Julie answered with a lingering kiss. In fact, it was all Sammy could do to break it, leaving her light laughter on Julie’s lips.

“I need to pee and I dare say you need to change. After that, I shall pamper ma sherie as much as she desires.”

Though awake by now, Julie didn’t want to act it and quietly asked, “Promise?”

Sammy tilted her head back and stretched up to give Julie’s forehead a peck. “I promise.”

And Sammy stayed true to her word, the time Julie usually spent training replaced with cuddling, comforted by Sammy’s warmth until breakfast. But she said she was fine to travel and so travelling they went.

“We can take it slow. Whether we get to sea early or not, we’re better off waiting until tomorrow to board a boat,” Sammy said.

Julie had no reason to disagree.

Going on a highway with many villages and towns along it had certainly been convenient the last couple of weeks, but Julie didn’t realise how much so until now. It was nice to have that bit of privacy when washing cloths, not having to draw water from a river, and Sammy’s godsent talent helped dry them quickly with nothing more than a bowl of water.

The road meandered, flowing around the hills, so it was that, even when they approached the sea, there was only city to see. However, before they reached the stench common to all cities, the sea breeze did drift by, different to the scent of the ocean, but still refreshing.

Once they had lodgings for the night, Sammy navigated through the maze of streets as if a fish swimming upstream, Julie her dutiful tail that held on tight. Eventually, they broke out onto the harbour.

It reminded Julie of Schtat. In Battoh, they had been in a hurry to leave the ship, so she hadn’t looked around. Now, they idly strolled, Sammy speaking to some sailors and whoever else looked like they were involved in sailing, giving Julie plenty of time to look.

There was just something Schtish about huge warehouses along the water’s edge to Julie. She didn’t know much about the world, but she knew Schtat was famous for its grand canals, like veins that brought everything to Hopschtat, while the trunk roads and all its offshoots were the arteries, pumping out the factory-made clothes and furniture and refined metals.

But the sea was larger than any canal. As Sammy spoke, Julie watched. Calmer than the ocean, yet wilder than lakes, boats bobbing, waves cresting and crashing, that pleasant sound lurking beneath the shouts. The later it got, the more beautiful the sight as the falling sun lingered on the waves, glittering and shimmering. It reminded her of their stay at the priory where they watched the sunset.

Once Sammy secured a place for them aboard a boat, they sought a place for dinner, no shortage of options in such a bustling place. But, as Sammy had mentioned, there really wasn’t much fish or meat on offer.

Honestly, Julie couldn’t have imagined a diet without any meat or fish before coming to Formadgo. There just didn’t seem to be enough kinds of food. But, going from store to store, passing by inns, it really was her imagination that was lacking. Wheat wasn’t as simple as bread or porridge, made into pastas, and each pasta was like another foodstuff entirely—she could easily have had a different kind of pasta every day of the week.

That wasn’t because the pasta just looked different. No, each type seemed to have its own purpose, its own sauces, different foods put alongside them. Creamy sauces, cheesy sauces, tomato sauces, or even just a drizzle of olive oil and herbs and ground pepper.

Julie’s opinion may or may not have been influenced by her hunger.

Sammy didn’t mean to tease Julie, but she had something in mind and it took a while to find a place serving it. Fortunately, it wasn’t a long wait before the plates came out, piled high in sauce-covered pasta.

Seeing how hungrily Julie look at it, Sammy smiled and let her lover eat before acting the tour guide. And oh did Julie eat. Not knowing much about pasta, she didn’t find anything strange about how it was like tiny toasted loaves, a slightly crunchy outside and somewhat fluffy inside. She did find it delicious with the sauce poured over, a mild cheese mixed with herbs and sliced mushrooms.

Despite how happily Julie ate, Sammy still finished first, part of her worrying that Julie might well lick the plate clean. Fortunately, Julie seemed satisfied by scooping up some of the leftover sauce with a spoon.

“Did you see how the pasta was like a large bean with notches in it?” Sammy asked.

Julie hadn’t expected to be quizzed, but the shape was fresh in her mind, so she nodded.

“This isn’t where it’s name comes from, but it sounds the same as notchy. While most pasta is made of wheat, this one is half potato and, as we well know, potato is rather delicious when fried. Alas, few places dare due to tradition.”

So delicious that, understanding she might not have it again any time soon, Julie visibly wilted. Sammy’s heart ached seeing that, a pitiful smile coming to her.

“We are going to be staying in larger towns and cities, though, so there is certainly opportunity to have it again.”

As if watered by those words, Julie perked right back up. Sammy could have laughed.

They walked around, hand in hand, until sunset, then retired for the night. A peaceful and pampering evening.

In the morning, they rose early and set off for the particular wharf where they’d booked a boat. The whole harbour was already bustling. Although there weren’t many fishing boats, there were still many boats and most had slots for oars along their hulls, huge crews working on the deck until it came time to row.

Their boat was no different. Horses an ever-in-demand good, this boat looked to ship some down the coast, fresh from the fields of Sonlettier. But they could only ship as many as they had and there were a few empty stalls.

“So you lasses made it—board up, winds good,” the captain said, gesturing for them to hurry.

That said, he still stopped Sammy for the promised coins.

This their third trip over water, neither Sammy, Julie, nor the horses had any problems, just that Sammy continued to clutch onto Julie for support, which Julie now realised was definitely not necessary. Never mind that she knew how quickly Sammy learned, but the boat didn’t go far out at all and so the waves were mostly gentle.

Julie didn’t say anything.

After a while at sea, Julie couldn’t help but frown, staring at the slowly changing landscape. “Are we… going kind of slow?” she asked.

“Yes, we are. However, these rowers can keep this speed for hours and, once we arrive at port, our horses will still be rested up. If there’s a good wind, we can make even better time.”

The wind wasn’t something often clear amongst hills and trees and buildings, but, out here, Julie could certainly feel it often pushing them towards the shore. Not knowing much about sailing, she wasn’t sure how this kind of wind could push them forward. So she asked and Sammy did her best to explain with the angled sail of the boat as reference.

Once that explanation finished, Julie perhaps more wise but twice as confused, Sammy began another lesson. Far from the city by now, there were no rolling fields of farmland. Dry, rocky, somewhat mountainous terrain covered the landscape in browns and patches of dark green; olive trees, according to Sammy.

As for Sammy’s lesson: “Cattle for slaughter actually require a lot of land. So goats are rather popular, at home in these less hospitable parts while giving milk. Otherwise, most of the cattle are dairy cows, some sheep for wool. Wool is better for sailors than linen and such with all the water in the air.”

Late morning, they arrived at another large port. Not as large as the one they’d left, but it was made of multiple wharves, busy.

“Be back a bit after midday, you hear?” the captain said to them.

While the other horses were fed aboard the boat, Sammy and Julie led theirs off, heading to the grass at the edge of the town to graze. It was unusually meadowy, full of flowers. There were even some fallen trunks that served as benches, bark worn down, giving it all the feel of a garden.

Sammy and Julie sat under a tree to keep near their horses. Some fresh food still in their packs, they had a little picnic. Neither had a particularly large appetite anyway, sailing as a guest less of a work out than riding, especially on calm waters.

Just that, Sammy soon noticed someone. Over on a bench, a woman was glancing at them from time to time, otherwise scribbling in her book. “Subtly look towards the town,” she whispered.

Though curious, Julie didn’t ask and did as asked, noticing the woman too. “Why’s she looking at us?”

Sammy smiled and it was the teasing kind of smile that let Julie know to prepare herself. “Perhaps she is like us,” she said.

There was a twinge in Julie’s mind, but she ignored it, knowing what Sammy meant. “You think so?”

“May I try to find out?” Sammy asked, and her tone—a familiar tone from their more intimate moments—told Julie how Sammy planned to do it.

After a deep breath to settle her spike of anxiety, Julie nodded.

But Sammy didn’t draw her into a kiss, not right away, instead simply moving her hand over, covering Julie’s hand, gently squeezing, then caressing. Julie near enough forgot about the woman, Sammy’s small gesture so… warming. Her cheeks heated up, that hand felt a little hotter than the other.

Then Sammy leant in closer and said, “She’s staring at us now,” the smile on her lips as if she was whispering sweet nothings.

Reminded, Julie glanced over and yes, the woman was staring—or at least, wasn’t looking down at her book, hard for Julie to actually tell where the woman was looking from this far away.

“Shall we give her something to truly remember?” Sammy whispered.

And that voice was so heated, sultry, deeper than usual and a little rough, reminding Julie of the words spoken between their intimate kisses. A moment of clarity, she realised Sammy wanted this—wanted to be seen kissing another woman.

Julie was already going to agree, their countless kisses having reduced the immodest act to something normal, but, knowing what Sammy wanted, she couldn’t help but indulge her lover. So she was the one to lean in, her hand coming up to rest against the back of Sammy’s head, gently wrapping the hair around her fingers.

As far as their kisses went, it was neither long nor brief, a comfortable length. Sammy was the one who broke it and she pulled Julie down into her embrace, resting her chin atop Julie’s head. This gave her the perfect view of the woman on the bench. Their eyes met, Sammy’s smile revealing that these lovers had known they were being watched.

After a second, the woman ran—as fast as her long dress would let her—satchel swinging wildly, and she even dropped a book as she did, seemingly not noticing.

Once Sammy was sure there was no one else around to see her precious jewel’s cute face, she kissed the top of Julie’s head and then relaxed her arms. “Our friend looked to be suitably entertained,” Sammy said, stroking Julie’s back.

Julie’s face was hot with embarrassment. It turned out that such acts may have felt normal before she did them, but still felt immodest after. Yet, hiding in Sammy’s embrace, she didn’t hate this feeling. Helped by Sammy’s gentle stroking, she calmed down and pulled away.

Then Sammy went over to see what the woman had dropped, a rather wicked smile on her lips as she skimmed through the book on her way back to Julie.

“What does it say?” Julie asked, curious what made Sammy look like that.

“It is a story about two men… being intimate.”

Julie opened her mouth, only for no words to come out, which Sammy found rather funny, giggling as she sat down beside Julie.

“I know little of the male anatomy that differs from ours, but it seems that woman knows even less—or her imagination is not at all limited by reality,” Sammy said, her voice full of humour.

Inside Julie’s head, there was an incredible struggle between her curiosity and her self-control. Because, really, she knew she didn’t want to know, didn’t want Sammy to say such things.

For the best, Julie’s self-control won out. “We shouldn’t read other people’s di… books.” She’d almost said diaries, but, if it was a diary, that would have made the story inside it even more incredible.

“You’re correct,” Sammy said… and made no move to close the book. She even turned the page.

“Sammy!”

Giggling, Sammy used her free hand to hold Julie’s. “Forgive me, but it is too interesting,” she said.

Julie pouted, her expression falling. Eventually, she asked, “You really want to read about… men doing those things?”

Some sense seemingly returning to Sammy, she finally closed the book. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would make you jealous,” she said.

“It, it didn’t!” Julie said, suddenly overwhelmed and unsure why.

“While I certainly have no interest in men being intimate, I find it hard to see the people in this story as men. There is also… ah, it is difficult to explain to someone who isn’t an avid reader, but it is a sort of guilty pleasure. Something coherent, but bad in such a way that it is fascinating, not knowing what will happen next. Every sentence extraordinary in its own way and any word can be followed by any other word.”

Sammy’s passion was infectious, chipping away at Julie’s self-control, stoking her curiosity.

As if knowing exactly what she was doing, Sammy then entwined her fingers between Julie’s. “Shall I read it for you?” she whispered, her tone awfully mischievous.

Oh how Sammy wanted to feel Julie squirm in her arms as she read this dirty, dirty book.

Julie honestly felt like crying, but kept it in, bowing her head to hide from Sammy’s tantalising gaze. “N-not now,” she said. Hopefully, when later came, she would have the self-control to decline properly.

Sammy smiled; she rather liked making promises for another time, stretching out these playful moments and enjoying every second.

In the peace that followed, Julie had time to collect herself and she eventually asked, “How do we… give back her book?”

“I think we simply have to wait,” Sammy said.

So they did and, indeed, a face peeked around a corner after a few minutes. Sammy pointed it out to Julie, then looked that way while holding up the book. The woman trudged over, head down, shoulders hunched. If Sammy didn’t know better, she’d think she had thoroughly bullied the woman.

Well, in a way, she had.

The woman wasn’t as young as them, but still in her early twenties by Sammy’s guess. Once the woman neared, Sammy said to her in Formadgian, “A pleasure to meet a cultured woman of writing.”

The woman cringed, scrunching up to make herself look even smaller. “H-hullo,” she said, her soft voice quivering.

“This is your book?” Sammy asked.

The woman nodded.

Sammy patted the ground next to herself.

The woman shook her head.

Sammy patted again, more eagerly, smile clearly showing in her sparkling eyes.

The woman hesitated, then walked forward. Every step seemed more difficult than the last. Finally in place, she didn’t so much sit as fall, losing her balance. Julie expected Sammy to catch the woman right up until the last moment, but butt met ground and the woman let out a gasp and whimper.

Some people didn’t need a bully to be bullied.

“Does it hurt?” Sammy asked.

“Ah, it, it’s fine,” the woman mumbled.

Sammy waited for the woman to calm down. Well, to not be so close to the verge of tears. “Your book,” she said, offering it up.

The woman took it and clutched it to her chest as a long, shuddery breath of relief slipped out. “Th-thank you.”

Sammy smiled, but it was the kind of smile that prefaced disaster. “Forgive me, but I happened to read a page or three and rather enjoyed it,” she said.

The woman froze, wide-eyed.

Sammy wasn’t finished. “It seemed you rather enjoyed our display too,” she said.

The woman trembled.

“By chance, are you like us and someone who loves… freely?” Sammy whispered.

One second, five, then the woman shook her head, but her lips moved, words eventually catching up. “No, I, I am… even more different, but I, I admire… your violet love greatly.”

Sammy took a moment to translate for Julie, then said to the woman, “Please do tell us about yourself.”

The woman finally found some kind of peace, her tension breaking. “My name is Sofia,” she said, voice still soft, but now level. “I… cannot love. I’ve read many, many books, of hearts beating quick, of flushed cheeks, of stomachs full of flowers, of feeling happy just to see her.”

As the silence stretched on, Sammy translated for Julie and then asked, “But you have never felt that way?”

Sofia smiled. “Actually, I have. Just that… I feel that way when… imagining other people.” Raising her head, she looked between Sammy and Julie. “And when I saw you both, I felt that way too,” she whispered.

Sammy spoke to Julie and then asked Sofia, “Does it have to be men with men and women with women?”

Sofia ducked her head, equally as awkward as ashamed. “At first, it didn’t matter, but now, um, I like it more.”

Showing such a disarming smile, Sammy asked, “What about it do you like?”

So convinced by that smile, Sofia’s shyness melted away under her growing excitement. “Well, it’s the masculinity and femininity, if that makes sense. For men, intimacy is a fight for dominance. And then their affection, gods, one knowing he can do anything but choosing to be gentle, the other knowing he can’t do anything but choosing to submit—I love it.”

That excitement infectious, Sammy tried not to show it lest she looked insincere. “And for women?”

“Well, it’s kind of the opposite. They’re gentle and loving with a sisterhood between them, their intimacy rising and falling like a perpetual tide, never quite ending. More like a conversation than a fight. No, a song. A song they sing with all their heart and body for only each other to hear.”

Although difficult to translate such passion faithfully, Sammy did her best. Then she said to Sofia, “Indeed, the way you describe it does sound beautiful.”

Only now realising how outrageous were the things she’d said, Sofia looked down at her lap. “R-really?” she whispered.

“I cannot speak for what it is like between men, but between my lover and I, our intimate moments are certainly something like that,” Sammy said.

“Really?” Sofia asked, perking up.

Sammy laughed and reached around Julie’s back, pulling her into a side-hug. “Really.”

Eyes sparkling, Sofia grabbed a pencil from her pocket, only to slowly return it.

“Truly a cultured woman of writing,” Sammy said.

Sofia had nothing to say at being caught.

“Speaking of your writing, I only read a little, but did you want, ah, I don’t know the correct word, but some advice? That said, I am but a reader, not a writer myself,” Sammy said.

Sofia nodded, very enthusiastic. “I’ve never had someone read my stories before, so I always wondered,” she said.

Sammy softly smiled. “Well, you certainly can write well and I could read it easily. Two things I noticed, one is that there isn’t always the feeling of… one thing happening because of another. More like a list of things happening with no reason joining them together. The other is that it doesn’t really linger, so it was hard to… enjoy? Like only having a single mouthful of a delicious food.

“However, both of those also make the story interesting because it changes so often. If you do take my… advice to heart, I would suggest being careful not to slow down so much it becomes boring.”

Sofia listened closely and nodded along the whole time. “Thank you, I think I know what you mean,” she said.

Silence fell, Sofia deep in thought. So Sammy waited a bit before asking, “I don’t suppose you have story of two women together I could read now? My lover and I have to leave somewhat soon.”

It took Sofia a second to hear the words, another to understand them. “Oh, um, I do,” she mumbled, reaching into her satchel.

Sammy noticed the book Sofia took out was a different colour to the one from earlier, so not the one Sofia was writing today. A slim book, roughly bound, flowery handwriting simply titling it—

“Purple Four?” Sammy asked.

“Well, stories of women together are called purple stories, and stories of men yellow stories—from their flowers. Violets for women, yellow carnations for men,” Sofia said.

Sammy tapped the “purple” book in Sofia’s hands. “Then this is your fourth?” she asked.

After hesitating, Sofia nodded, no reason to hide things this far in. “I am currently writing my fifth.” As she said that, she handed the book over.

The joy on Sammy’s face was unmistakeable. She eased open the book, so carefully turned the page, immersing herself in the first few pages before Sofia interrupted her reading.

“Do you… want to have it?”

Sammy stilled. “Really?” she asked.

Sofia’s expression wobbled as she tried to keep her smile from looking so awkward. “It would, that is…. I dare not show these books to anyone. And knowing it was in the hands of a violet lady, I, um, would like that. I would be happy that you like the story I wrote about women like you.”

The difficulty Sofia had explaining herself showed clearly on her face, Sammy waiting for her to finish before speaking. “Thank you. We shall cherish it greatly,” she said.

Oh that cheered Sofia right up with her face all scrunched up with her big smile. “No, thank you. I often feel so… alone, but you have shown me such kindness.”

Sammy smiled in reply.

Now that there was no rush to read the book, Sammy put it away in her pack, telling Julie what the last half of the conversation had been about. Then the three talked some more, Sammy translating between the two as, well, it was mostly Sofia asking Julie questions for her writing.

That said, Sammy loved listening to Julie try and describe her “violet feelings”.

Time always ticked, always tocked, the time to part arriving. Sofia accompanied them to the dock. Compared to the timid and stuttering woman they’d met, she was now like a different person entirely, so full of joy and eagerness, shaking both hands of both Sammy and Julie and even leaving a kiss on their cheeks.

Sammy understood cultural differences, but still took out a handkerchief to wipe Julie’s cheek.

“If you pass through again, please do visit,” Sofia said.

“We shall,” Sammy said.

Aboard the boat, it was strangely quiet, noisy but quiet, no more endless questions coming their way.

Yet Sammy said, “That was fun.”

Julie giggled and gave Sammy’s hand a squeeze. “It was,” she said.

Leaning in close, Sammy whispered, “I look forward to reading the book with you tonight.”

Just that, seeing the effect her words had, Sammy had to pull Julie into her embrace, hiding that cute face from the world.

The boat sailed for half the afternoon and arrived at its destination. Some hours of sunlight still left, Sammy and Julie rode along to the next town. Then, in the dim light of their room, Julie snuggled up on Sammy’s lap as a soft voice read and red ears listened.

So another day came to an end.