Which left Aelfeva and Josceran alone in the suddenly-silent garden.

“I needed that workout,” Aelfeva said. “And the company and the drink felt good. But I don’t think I can figure anything out while I’m focused on other things.”

“Should I go away?” Josceran asked.

Aelfeva shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to be alone, either. Which is ridiculous.” She shifted position, and muttered a curse. “Dammit. Look away, or don’t, I don’t care.” She untied her belt, hiked up her shirt, and unwound the lengths of linen from around her ribcage. “Ugh. That was starting to hurt, but not having it was worse, but taking it off is unpleasant. Unless there’s a solution I don’t know about, I’m sticking with girl clothes.” She let her shirt fall. With her belt undone, her trousers threatened to slide down, at least to the widest point of her hips. “This is close enough to private and right now, I don’t care. The clothes I rode here in yesterday do not fit and they are driving me mad.” She skinned the trousers down as far as she could, then raised her hips so she could clear them, and pushed them down her legs, pulling her feet out. “Yes, only wearing a shirt, oh no the scandal.” She did fold the trousers so she could use them under her backside, even though the shirt fell to mid-thigh. Her belt, much lighter with the small everyday knife and her purse with its semicircular ornate top and her new chatelaine all stripped off, she tied back in place.

“I’d rather have you comfortable than proper,” Josceran said. “Besides, I like the view.”

“Oh, don’t start that again.”

Josceran just chuckled. “Besides, not only a shirt.”

Aelfeva closed her hand around the glass necklace that rested just below the hollow of her throat. The gift had only made the feelings inside more tumultuous. She liked it—more than any jewellery she’d ever owned. She could have bought it for herself if she’d thought to—but it was in effect a courting gift. He’d chosen colours that matched Dragon—and that he knew it would matter to her made her feel odd. It shouldn’t. Josceran knew her extremely well. Or was it that he’d taken the time to choose one that would have that extra bit of meaning for her? Was that why she liked it so much?

Why did any of it matter? Why did she feel like this?

“I should be going to bed so I’m awake tomorrow. I still have no idea what to say to Leo. I don’t think I could forgive myself for using emotional blackmail to pull her out of the cloister for anything less than a truly dire, absolutely cannot possibly cope with this, outright miserable future. In the first few hours I probably would have without a second thought, but every hour that goes by is making me less sure about anything. The only thing I’m certain of right now is that I’ve never been more confused.”

“Want to tell me?” Josceran asked quietly.

“I don’t know if you’re the best one to tell or the worst one. There’s probably a lot in it that you could use to tease absolutely mercilessly.”

“I won’t. I promise. Well, not mercilessly. Is a little bit okay if I just forget once in a while?”

“You wouldn’t be you otherwise.” She sighed. “I do not understand anything that’s happening in my head right now.”

“Mmhmm?”

“I am scared to death of spending the rest of my life as a woman. I literally do not know how, I don’t know what to expect, I don’t know whether I’d hate it, I don’t know whether I’d just... stop being me, eventually, whoever that is. I am also scared to death of dragging Leofeva out of the sanctuary, watching you marry her, and realizing around the time the spell breaks, or a week or a year later, doesn’t matter, that it was a mistake and I should have married you and stayed a woman, and I don’t know why that scares me just as badly when there aren’t many surprises.”

“Sadrilde told you how magic works on people.”

“Which just confirms that there are two sides of me fighting over it.”

“I don’t think that’s all. What else?”

“I really don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Please?”

Aelfeva rubbed her palms and the pads of her fingers. With the calluses gone, they were tender after the workout, but she didn’t think there’d be any blisters.

“I... like how I look. How my skin feels. How everything feels. I’m even getting used to all this hair, although that doesn’t mean I have any idea what to do with it without help. And it’s only been a little over a full day. By the end of the sennight, it might feel so normal that the spell breaking would be just as bad.”

“That would definitely be unsettling.”

“How can that even happen? How can someone change me that much but it feels so natural so quickly? That isn’t the same thing as just trying to find something positive in this mess that I can live with. Is that something in the spell?”

“I doubt it. From what I understand about it, which admittedly is a lot less than Sadrilde knows, it’s extremely difficult to affect feelings and thoughts. Behaviour, sure, or messing with what you see or hear, and they can do things like make someone disoriented and confused and unable to reach memories easily, but they can’t rebuild a new set of memories or make you think or feel anything you don’t.”

“So it’s all me. Something in me is embracing this spell so thoroughly that it’s downright eager to make it feel like the way things should be. Even...” She stopped and bit her lip.

“Even what?”

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It was, she’d discovered, a surprisingly comfortable position, and it made her feel better somehow. She did free one hand to wrap it around the glass necklace.

She was in this far. She might as well tell him. And she trusted him—he would inevitably tease, that was who he was, but he wouldn’t use it to hurt. She could handle some teasing.

“It... feels... I don’t understand why it feels so good... every time you touch me, and when you kissed me. It... I don’t... I don’t even know how to explain that. Just... good... and it keeps making me want more. But I don’t know why.”

Josceran said nothing at all for five fast heartbeats—Aelf counted.

“You know all that romantic stuff that’s been eluding you since forever?” he said finally. “Not being able to figure out the drive towards holding hands and kissing and just being in contact? I think what you’re describing is the feeling that makes all that happen.” There was no mockery in his tone at all, no hint of humour.

“What, seriously?” She thought about that. It made some sense, as far as motivation for behaviour she’d seen. “But I don’t... I don’t do that.”

“Can we try something?”

She looked at him warily.

“Just imagining something. That’s all.”

“All right.” That sounded safe enough.

“Close your eyes and just go along with it, please? Try to imagine it as clearly as you can.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Imagine a traditional couple, one man, one woman. Try not to make them anyone you know, more like the dolls the girls used to play with. Let’s say he has a skilled trade of some sort, and his family bought a small farmstead a few years ago as his marriage inheritance, and she’s bringing a good bed and some household essentials, a few head of livestock and poultry, and whatever she needs for her own best craft. So getting married is quite realistic, both families would consider it a good match and consent, and they’re considering it. Are you with me?”

“Yes.”

“Imagine he’s dropping by her house with little gifts—a bunch of flowers that he knows she likes, a basket of wild strawberries from a patch he found while he was out walking his dog, ribbons or pins from a peddler, a catnip-filled leather toy he made for her pet cat. And she’s responding by making sure she wears one of the flowers or ribbons when he’ll see it, using the berries to bake tarts that she shares with him, tells him how much her cat made her laugh. All of which tells him that she’s also interested and this might work out. When he gets the chance, he helps her out with whatever she needs to do, not because she can’t do it, just to spend a little time with her and make her day a little easier. Help her carry water for the livestock, help with weeding the vegetable garden, help mend the fence keeping the rabbits out of the herb garden, even just keep her company while she’s doing something repetitive like spinning.”

“Why doesn’t she help him?”

“Because the laws are better now but they’ve always been unfair to women and still are, and if you want someone to consent to putting her safety and future substantially in your hands, it would be nice for her to feel like she’s going to be respected and valued.”

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess.”

“The next holiday comes around, and everyone dresses in their best and gets together in the square, with lots of treats around the edges and the local musicians playing and everyone dancing in the centre. These two spend most of their time together, maybe separating just for an occasional dance with someone else, and when they take a break, they find somewhere together. Maybe where they can watch the others, but maybe a quieter corner. Somewhere they can hold hands and steal a few kisses and talk. There are lots of things that can go wrong that would make either one end this at any time—she gets the sense that he’d be domineering and possibly even abusive, he sees her watching too many other men and feels like she’d be cheating as soon as his back is turned, there’s no end of possibilities. Some of them might be things they can negotiate. Some of them won’t be. But let’s say this couple doesn’t see any major problems. They can agree on doing their best not to have more than three or four children, they can agree that while he plies his trade she’ll look after the farmstead he’s inheriting and that her preferred skills in... I don’t know, maybe she makes a great ale, or she’s a talented weaver... are valuable and should be put to use even if she needs to hire a maid to help her. It all leads up to him asking her to marry him, and her saying yes. Still with me?”

“Yes.” It was a little tricky to visualize, but Josceran’s descriptions made it possible, at least. How many times had she overlooked this kind of behaviour around her? How often had she completely failed to understand the subtext of young women hinting that they’d love to have those ribbons or that embroidered handkerchief?

“Imagine yourself in the place of that woman. A man that you like is visiting your house to bring you small things to make you smile, and it makes him smile when you accept and use them. Sometimes he shows up to be extra hands for you, even if it’s just cheering you on while you’re sparring with Guillen or handing you treats or gear while you’re training a horse. At the next holiday you go there together, and you partner with him dancing, so you have him across from you and, say, Teoda beside you and Rich across from her.”

Those were actually not hard at all to visualize. Tonight had been unusual only because Josceran hadn’t been actively cheering for her, and Ferrand for Guillen, while they were sparring. She remembered encouraging their friends to practice dancing, and letting Josceran lead consistently so it was completely clear with no one getting confused over which was leading this time. Eyes still closed, she rubbed her glass necklace.

Even the extended parts about being alone and sharing a few kisses were easy to extrapolate from recent events, as disquieting as that was. All in all, though, it felt oddly easy and comfortable, even edging towards enjoyable.

“Got that clear in your head?”

“Yes.”

“Flip it. Imagine yourself in his place instead.”

The fantasy ground to a halt like a plough hitting a large buried rock, the moment she tried going back to the beginning and putting herself in the opposite role.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t imagine yourself doing small nice things for a woman?”

“Of course I can. But not... not with any intentions of anything but being kind. It just... it doesn’t work. It never has. I have never been able to visualize myself marrying a woman. Or doing anything with that in mind.”

“I have a question about that.”

“Yes?”

“Can you visualize yourself, as you are right now, kissing a woman who would kiss you right back? Sadrilde, say? Just a kiss.”

“Um...” Aelfeva frowned, testing that out in her head. “I... I can do that one. Sort of. I don’t know how it would feel, exactly, but I can imagine it, at least.”

“So... I am absolutely not making fun of you, I’m just trying to figure this out. It’s not so much, can’t visualize yourself with a woman, as it is, can’t visualize yourself as anyone’s husband?”

“I... oh hells.” She tightened her arms around her knees, eyes scrunched tightly shut. “Why is that making me want to cry all of a sudden?”

“I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

“It’s all right.” She rested her forehead on her raised knees—not something she’d been flexible enough to do before. “I think that’s inevitable right now.”

“I really wish I could make it easier.”

“I know. You are.” Aelfeva raised her head and took a deep breath. “When it comes right down to it, none of it matters.”

“It matters a lot.”

“Not in practical terms. If I can’t convince myself that it’s so unspeakably terrible that it’s worth tearing my little sister away from the thing she wants so badly, then the only other option is that on Sunna’s Day you and I get married. I think we’ve managed to establish rather clearly that I am too conflicted to be able to convince myself of any such thing. Which means that in a few days I’m going to be marrying one of my best friends and spending the rest of my life as a woman and I have absolutely no idea how to get my head around that fact but the only difference any of this makes is how well I can manage to make the best of it.”

“We.”

“What?”

“How well we can make the best of it. One advantage to it being one of your best friends is that you’re marrying someone who already understands you and wants this to work out for both of us. You are not allowed to pull any stupid Aelf nonsense and try to do this by yourself. You are not alone, and this time, I’m going to make absolutely sure that you don’t forget that.”

“Don’t get any ideas. You can’t make me do anything.”

Josceran grinned at her. “But isn’t a good wife supposed to ob...” He didn’t get to finish the word: Aelfeva rolled forward so she was on her knees, and slapped her hand over his mouth.

“Don’t you dare say that!”

Josceran chuckled, and seized her wrist, then the other before she could pry his fingers free. “Or what?”

She squirmed, trying to get loose, but his hands could wrap entirely around her wrists, leaving her no opening to exploit. She managed to wedge the fingers of one hand underneath the end of his on her other wrist, but somehow in the struggle, she lost her balance and fell over sideways.

Josceran couldn’t untangle himself quickly enough, and her weight pulled him down on her.

They’d grown up rough-housing, neither able to win consistently.

This time, the scales had tipped: while he didn’t seem to have much of an edge in sheer mass, she lacked her old strength, he was stronger than he had been, and she hadn’t yet learned how to use her improved flexibility and altered centre of gravity. It was absolutely maddening—no matter how much she writhed, he was still winning, which didn’t keep both of them from laughing while she tried. She knew, from wrestling with Leofeva, that her sister could hold her own somehow, even when Leofeva had been smaller than her, but she couldn’t immediately bring to mind how.

Impulsively, because she could reach and because it would probably work, she arched upwards and kissed him.

He made a startled sound, but he didn’t pull away; after a heartbeat, he released her wrists so he could brace himself and return it.

She could use that distraction to her advantage.

Well, she could have, but it turned out to be just as distracting for her. It wasn’t just the kiss itself: she could feel the heat of his body, not his full weight but enough of it that she could feel his chest rise and fall with every breath. Hesitantly, she slid a hand around his side to his back to keep him there, even draw him closer. She wanted... she didn’t know, it was just a formless want that she couldn’t put a name to, bewildering and big enough to drown in but at the same time it felt too good for her to wish that it wasn’t there.

It was only when he freed one hand and let it rest on her hip that she remembered that she was wearing only a shirt that was too big for her and she was incredibly vulnerable right now—to say nothing of the utter horror of most people if they saw them like this. But her mind blanketed that with a flood of unexpected fantasies about Josceran’s hand wandering and where it could touch and what that would feel like, and she could feel her heart speeding up.

“Hey,” Josceran murmured in her ear.

“Hmm?”

“We need to stop.” His breath tickled her cheek and the joint of her jaw. “Otherwise I am going to be tempted to just keep going. Because maybe that would resolve any questions. Or maybe just in case I never get another chance. And I don’t like that idea. Not until you decide what you want.”

“I... what? Oh.” Actually, he had a hard-on, unsurprisingly, and she could feel it through his trousers against her bare thigh. She might not have cared much either way about her previous anatomy, but she did know how it worked. “Right.” She let her hand fall, and he rolled to the side, out of contact. That was deeply disappointing but that just strengthened that nameless wanting and made her wonder when they could do it again.

He brushed a lock of blonde hair out of her face for her, and smiled. “That was more of a compliment than a complaint, believe me. Right now, the smart thing is for you to try to sleep and for me to see whether Sadrilde made her way back to my bedroom yet.”

“You’ve been having sex with her.”

“Yes. She’s a cat most of the time and has no interest in ever getting married, possibly not in having any children. She did make it very clear that, as long as whoever I marry agrees, she’s more than happy to join either or both in bed.”

“Hm. So no pressure with no guilt.” Possibly she was supposed to be jealous or something. If anything, it offered intriguing options and a potentially viable way out of sexual activity herself if she turned out not to like it. Although right now, with unfamiliar parts of her aching, that was hard to believe was possible.

“You could see it that way, yes. She also really dislikes dishonesty, and that all depends on open consent all around. It would probably be best to talk to her about it. But for the moment, I should go and quietly do with her something like I was just fantasizing about doing with you, and let you sleep so Teoda and Ilduara don’t have to drag you out of bed.”

“Um. Yes. Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Being you. That’s about the best possible way to help.”

“If you say so.” He rocked forward for a quick, chaste kiss. “See you tomorrow. Tell Leo that I’m not taking it personally.”