"There you are," said Rodney as he strode towards them, as if the weight of the chainmail on his body was next to nothing. "So glad you could take time to cheer my chivalrous attempts, Aria."

Aria gave a quick and casual peck on Rodney's cheeks. "Actually, I came to watch your padded derriere kicked."

"Not when Astra joins us," answered Rodney over the festive sounds of jesters, minstrels, goths, cosplayers, LARPers, steampunks strewn with a casual sprinkle of mainstream people who wandered through the renfair.

"I, for one, believe valour and chivalry are proven with better deeds than wielding steel." Astra replied with a congenial smile that spoke volumes.

"If that be the answer I deserve, then fair maiden, will I be entertained by the sight of you tossing roses?"

"We are more inclined to toss barrels and rocks at you, if it pleases Sir Knight," replied Aria with the same mirth.

"Woe betide!" Rodney shouted in a spectacular show of theatrical talents. His performance attracted a small crowd. "Why does a pretty face always hide a vile heart?"

"So do you like, fight your opponents to death or cry your opponents to death?" asked Aria winking at a Link and Zelda couple. As with every successfully cosplayed version of Link, this Link too was played by a girl, and Aria received a congratulating smile in return.

"So what is this symptom called?" asked Rodney. "You know, when a lesbian couple sees another lesbian couple, and they go all like, wishing a stranger on a new years eve."

"Oh, that is quite a horrid phenomenon," declared Aria, faux-gravely. "Now, if you would indulge in your knightly virtues to lead us hapless dames to the finest place, which, by the way, you have claimed to secure for us, Kind sir, you will receive our useless thanks in return."

"Why, it is this way, My lady. The finest in all the festive grounds. Two bright spots reserved for two dazzling ladies."

"It is three. I have invited a friend Hallie," said Aria and added as an afterthought, "Actually, make it four. I have a sneaky feeling we will have an expectedly unexpected guest." Then, she followed Rodney.

Aria relaxed in the shade of a pavilion, surrounded by people who were born in the wrong era and those who wished they lived in the right era. Some of the costumes were pretty elaborate and detailed, ranging from a vagrant peddler to a landed gentry, all sharing the same bench with a copious amount of mead and absinthe to go with. Aria admired it. It made the pavilion, where they were seated, so much richer, filled with a myriad of colourful details. Some of those outfits seemed extremely meticulous to be mass-produced. Careful hand-crafted stitches worth at least a year's effort was all that Aria perceived.

That is some serious commitment, Aria concluded. Her gaze lingered on the great Queen Anne style chair, adorned with elaborate tapestries surrounding much akin to a throne, placed on a stage. Then, a small jingle of laughter tore her eyes away from the throne.

Hallie approached, dressed in the regal robes of a princess. Rich purple satin lined with silk covered in golden sequins, and her long hair arranged in ornate coils of royalty, even from a distance, Hallie commanded attention with her confident stride.

"Excuse me. Ummm, Hallie, what the fuck?" Those were Aria's first words. She stared in bewilderment at Hallie's choice of attire.

But Hallie sauntered, a slow and deliberate sashay with cheerfulness, and even took a moment, to deliver an exaggerated bow to an armoured knight. "Oh Aria, one must learn to mould themselves to the situation."

"Right, because, medieval drag queens are some kind of native here," said Aria.

"My god! Such malice! Trust me, when I wear this outfit, everyone thinks I am the hottest thing on the face of this earth. Everyone! All eyes turn on me, ladies swoon and the lads, oh, they so loose self-control."

"I can imagine that. After all, everyone loves a royal bitch."

"I think the proper word, dear Aria," lamented Hallie, "is poorly-understood ice queen."

"Ice-queen's are overrated," said Aria with a triumphant smirk.

"I suppose..." Hallie grinned as she slid onto the bench beside Aria, "You will find Ice queens redundant, especially when your own preferences tend towards a herbo female, with a singular height, exotic features, coupled with alabaster skin and ebony silken hair."

Aria found a crimson colouring her face with every moment. She had to wilfully avert her eyes from gazing towards Astra.

"I thank you for the compliment, Your royal Highness." Astra stood and made an elaborate kneel before Hallie. "Though, I must insist, such praises are wasted upon, yours truly, though your modesty outshines all."

"Lady Astra?" Hallie scrunched her nose in reconsidering her words, then she corrected herself. "Dame Commander Astra, for I have Knighted you, are you claiming a lapse in my judgement?"

"If you would have to moniker me, I would prefer..." In the deliberate pause, Astra gave Aria a look that hid very little. "Goddess of the Stars, is very appropriate."

Every fine hair of Aria bristled at the implied reference, and the simulated fantasy that she indulged herself in. A sense of urgent poignancy invaded Aria. In a passionate instant, Hallie blurred, the contingent of Knights parading through the renfair faded into oblivion, and replaced with images of Astra in the almost-revealing dress and the feeling of her tongue lapping across her blemishless skin. Aria blushed, despite the promise to herself that she would not indulge in such intimacy.

"I sense there is more to your title, Astra." Hallie straightened the creases of her dress as if the topic interested her the least, but the hooded squint of her eyes and the carefully controlled smirk barely went unnoticed.

"The tale of 'The Goddess of the Stars' is a...very expressive story," replied Astra.

"Now, I am intrigued," said Hallie, while Aria could see all manner of alarms slowly rising. "Let me guess, is she some sort of noble heroine, like a priestess of a god or a champion of faith?"

"Actually, she is a very highly sought comfort woman, a poor miserable soul whose very existence can be bought for a night with the right coin."

How is Astra even doing it? A nuclear meltdown level alert rang inside Aria.

"Poor wretch, must have been so lonely...and unappreciated." Hallie clicked her tongue in sympathy, but it was not.

"On the contrary, she was well-loved, by a certain powerful Lady of the realm," continued Astra.

Aria felt her knees tremble, and despite the festive crowd, the odd assortment of LARPers, the constant ringing of a medieval blacksmith striking iron, the woodsmoke rising from a grill roast, and the clamour of parading Knights, and their minstrels, she could only sense an ashen cloud of apprehension tugging her. How could Astra possibly, even remotely, have an inkling of knowledge of those fantasies of hers?

Hallie leaned forward, interest tugging her sleeves. "Seems very basic." Words tried, and failed, at concealing her true intentions. "Rich and powerful lady falls for a poor tramp with a heart of gold. Subtle tensions, a lot of misunderstandings and an eventual happy end for all. I know these sorts of constructs."

"I take it that you this is not the sort of tale that appeals to your vanity, Your Royal Highness," responded Astra.

"Actually, I have decided to broaden my horizons, so please do entertain me." All pretences abandoned, Hallie grabbed Astra's hands in an earnest plea.

Aria tapped her fingers in manic fervour. "I am sure it is something lame and cringe, can we focus on other topics?"

"No, actually I am very much involved," said Hallie, waving her hands dismissively at Aria without looking at her.

"So our lovesick noble lady purchased the services of the Goddess of Stars for a night, alright."

A muscle twitched in Aria's cheek, she could hear the rapid thrum of her own heartbeat in her ears, but Astra continued.

"And she found her favourite Comfort Lady of the night, scarred and disfigured by another jealous client. An irreversible effect, but it bothered the Noble Lady least. She embraced even the imperfection."

"How?" asked Hallie, all attention on Astra's next words.

Any moment now. Only a few words separated Aria and her hidden truth. A pause hung between them, the light banter silence. All manner of things flashed across Aria's mind.

But no words came.

Astra's mouth opened, just wide enough to throw breadcrumbs, and stayed. Her piercing electric eyes held fixated on the figure sauntering on a massive black percheron.

While Aria stared at Astra, and Astra glared at the Master of Ceremonies, and he held a fixed gaze on Aria, familiar eyes looking at Aria through the slit of the full helmet. Hallie turned her head, gazing at the odd scene unfolding before her.

Not able to bear the enigmatic silence any further, Hallie cleared her throat. "Umm, that is weird. Usually before the start of a Knight tourney, it is not uncommon for the participants to stay behind the mystery of their helmets but, not the Master of Ceremonies."

A discordant clang of chainmail clinking followed as the mounted knights took their place in the tourney grounds. The Master of Ceremonies, in his ebony beast, large and imposing than the destriers and yet docile, made a casual round, eyes behind the helmet still fixed on Aria.

"Weird, that Sir Mysterious-a-lot, keeps glaring at you, and he is not even interested in you," said Hallie.

"Eh, not interested in me?" repeated Aria. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Oh honey." Hallie hooked her forefinger, and tickled Aria under her chin teasingly. "He is not just imposing his importance on that huge mount, he is basically sashaying fabulously. Don't you see?"

Aria had to remind herself, at times, Hallie can be highly perceptive, but it was Astra who perplexed her more. The Vajran wore the same intense expression of communing with herself. Strangely, even that acute concentration made her more alluring. Aria slyly smacked her lips.

"It's Kyle." Astra's spoke, in a tone barely above a whisper, and her brilliant eyes darted, scanning the festive grounds of the renfair, till the seeking settled on the roasting grill and the seller with his back turned to them. "There's Myles."

The light of recognition lit up in the depths of Aria's eyes, and her lips curved in confusion. "But, they? Why?"

"Only one way to find out, and I am in desperate need of answers now." Astra stood to leap.

Simultaneously, both Kyle and Myles froze, the frame stiffened as if an unnatural force razed through them. Myles's hands reached for something but held arrested halfway through, Kyle's knuckles blanched, grip tightening on the reins.

Myles slowly walked backwards, towards their seat, seeking refugee.

Even through the shimmering of the heated air from the grill and the furnace, the sharp form of Phaedra advanced.

Hallie bit her lips and swallowed hard. She could barely pay heed to the mad glee dancing on her friend's face.

Aria's eyes hawked in the same manner, like a cat toying with a mouse. It was entertaining to watch Hallie, who relished in delivering sucker-punch, to fumble at the very presence of the Sentinel.

Myles quickly grabbed two goblets on their table, mixed mead and absinthe, gulping them in one go. He really needed the courage now, more than before.

Soon, Kyle hopped from his Percheron and strode over to join them, face freed from the confines of the helmet and the latter tucked under his arms. Brows furrowed and face gaunt, he looked like a man with the reaper at his doorstep.

Phaedra stopped in her steps. Standing a respectable distance, she stared at Hallie with the gaze of a cockatrice.

"Over here, Phaedra. Over here. We have a spot." Aria screamed.

Kyle elbowed her, subtly. Hallie kicked her under the table.

Aria ignored all the concerns and called for Phaedra again to join. Only Astra seemed unperturbed. In fact, the encouraging smile on her face spoke volumes, as if she, and she alone, knew Aria's inner working.

Phaedra, whose resoluteness could shatter mountain ranges, stood arrested by trepidation.

"So," started Astra. "How long have you guys been here?"

"Only since yesterday," answered Myles. "Festive grounds. Cheap renting for camping. Nice place to unwind, isn't it, Commander Bel' Kairan? Commander it is, right?"

"It's Captain, and I mean on earth." Not even a sliver of anger or fury in Astra's tone. She had the same shared mirth of meeting a drinking buddy in a bar.

"A few years, was it Kyle?" Myles feigned. "Or perhaps more like a few decades. Lost track of time here. Came for a holiday, and decided to stick around."

"Syvarrians or Syloths, that is what you guys are, if I were to wager."

"Syntharians, actually," answered Kyle, abandoning all pretext.

Hallie ignored the conversation. She had already reached the inevitable conclusion that normal things don't happen very often around Aria and Astra. Besides, Phaedra's look stirred something inside her.

"Why don't you two take a seat? Get nice and comfy." Aria scooted to one side, inviting them.

Yet, the most surprising move came from Phaedra, accepting the invitation, and sat not on the bench but plonked on the ground, close to Hallie's knees.

After a few minutes of oppressive silence, Astra cleared her throat. "Syntharians, huh. That is a change. Never expected."

Aria arched a lone brow, and Phaedra volunteered. "Pretty much a non-confrontational race, and extremely non-adventurous too. We even refer to an extremely unlikely and catastrophic event as the rage of a Syntharian."

"So why hide on this planet?" asked Astra.

"A simple matter of circumstances," answered Kyle, eyes on the ground, palms clutching his husband's for support. "Why don't we focus on important matters. The dreaded space pirate with the highest bounty in the covenant is hovering nearby."

"Actually, the second-highest bounty is on Roga Skarii." Astra paused for a moment. Everything suddenly fell in place. "You guys are those Syntharians. The most notorious criminals of the Covenant."

"Its a simple misunderstanding. We are innocent of all crimes. We did nothing wrong."

"Granted, they hid things from us, but I can hardly believe them to be the wanted criminals you make them out to be," defended Aria.

Astra turned to Aria. "Remember the expression Phaedra mentioned. Rage of a Syntharian. These two are responsible for that saying. They destroyed a whole planet, full of vibrant life and an emerging civilisation with promise and potential." Astra's tone gained a hardened edge with every syllable."...on a whim."

"Truth is we were simply returning back from our holidays with our kirkill...that is, our pet, like a big bunny, fluffy and snugly." Kyle implored Aria with big eyes. "Our pet might have grazed on something strange during our stay, the litter box filled soon. So we dropped out to sublight speed and just threw the litter out. That's all we did, and suddenly, we are the biggest criminals in the whole galaxy."

"You guys dropped out of metric drive, and threw a packed mass at relativistic velocity. Whatever you threw, it impacted the nearest planet with the energy of ten thousand nuclear warhead." Astra's disapproval marred to a stone-melting scorn. "All because you could not wait to reach the next spaceport for appropriate disposal."

"But we did not intend for any of this to happen." Myles turned to Aria. "Have you never thrown something from the window of a car on a highway? An empty disposal coffee cup or a chocolate wrapper. Is it a big crime?"

Aria had to agree to the logic behind the argument.

"Then, why run? Why hide? Why not submit before the law and explain your situation? Absconding only made strengthened the validity of your crime." Astra blanched her knuckles, every word an accusation mingled with disgust.

"But we are Syntharians," said Kyle. "We are non-confrontational. We don't hire legal representatives, and fight our way in a justice system. Besides, every consultant we met said our situation was grim."

"So you guys destroyed a planet by throwing bunny shit at it." Aria was more amazed at the manner of the crime than anything else.

The tensed silence that filled the space broke, when the static from the loudspeaker, followed by a voice demanding the Master of Ceremonies to continue. With a sigh, Kyle stood up, after a quick kiss exchanged with his husband, he strode out.

"So what will it be Captain Astra?" asked Myles, voice grave and hopeless.

"You will have to answer for your actions," said Astra. "I am bound by honour and my responsibility as a covenant Captain. I will have to take you both in."

"Astra," intervened Aria. "But they helped us. They saved your life. They could have walked away and hid themselves, but they did not. They knew the consequences and yet saved your life."

"For that, I am thankful, Aria. I will gladly present my positive references before the law, but please do not endeavour to persuade me further. That would taint my integrity."

Astra shrugged, a slight indignation at Aria's stance, but when she reached out to cup Aria's face in her palms, there was only acceptance. "Aria." Her words were filled with infinite gentleness and patience, but not their meaning. "I love you, more than anything, but as my wife, I expect you to hold a certain measure of accountability. There are values. Core values. I cannot compromise, and I expect you to support and not play an unwitting part to tempt me away from the path."

Aria winced at the meaning of Astra's speech. She jerked free, away from her wife's hold. No longer were those palms warm. Only glacially cold. Numbness. When Aria mustered enough courage to look back at Astra, only grief stayed on her wounded eyes.

Astra reached out, clasped Aria's hands. Her skin felt different, the sensations of her palms stifled, no, rather suffocated Aria.

Shaken, bewildered, Aria's voice was barely an audible whisper. "Is there anything that is born of free will? Not crafted to appeal to the sense of honour? And your expectation of me to adhere myself to the same shackles that you so willingly bound yourself, is pitiful."

All emotions drained, Astra staggered. "Vlahari, you know that is not true. Our marriage is not a simple oath-bound tradition."

"Sure feels that way." The scorn from Aria's words burned Astra to soul. "Because all I see before me is a woman with an eroded sense of gratitude. When you laid motionless in my arms, when I screamed for your life, they are the ones who saved."

A long tear slipped down Aria's cheek, crumbling her well-controlled facade. Without a thought, Astra reached, a thumb slightly brushing the tear-drop away.

"Love, I am not a being devoid of basic virtues. I know what they did for us, and I am grateful for that. I promise to get them the best representation they need to defend themselves, but the demands of a Covenant fleet Captain to a conscientious job cannot be ignored."

"So you are resolute in your stance, even if it means sending our friends to the gallows."

Astra smiled, a sad and grieving smile. "My position does not avail me favours." Astra paused, deliberately wrestling with hesitation. "I would have personally apprehended them when the fleet arrives, if I did not bear the other responsibility of introducing you to the Fleet Admiral." After another short, decisive break, she added. "That is, if you do not intend to relive me of my Niraveolan oath."

A chill settled in the depth of Aria's heart. For a split second, she thought she could smell something charred and disintegrating. She opened her mouth, to say something. Anything. But an uncouth laughter, more of a snort amalgamated with a cackle, burst from the most unlikely person capable of such emotion. Phaedra.

Hallie might have said something fun, the two of them lost to the rest, in their private moments. The expression on Hallie's face, a lot of things left unsaid. Aria had never seen her friend wear such an unguarded expression.

"So, I got another one for you," said Hallie. "How would you make a virile minotaur in heat less horny? You break one of its horns."

Phaedra laughed, and only phaedra laughed. "Ha, I get it. Horns. Horny. Great word play."

Aria's lips made the form of a 'What-the-fuck' movement without slipping any sound.

When Hallie's fingers reached out to weave through the matted, unkempt hair of Phaedra, Astra's long arms darted forward, arresting her from completing her deed.

'"Don't." Astra cautioned. "You can't know how the enhanced senses of a sentinel would interpret even something as simple as a caress."

"Huh." Hallie quirked an eyebrow in Astra's direction.

"All senses of a Sentinel are heightened. They experience things far more intense, and their brain processes those even more acutely. It makes even little things magnified, disturbing and highly emotional... and extremely unstable." Astra spoke slowly, but the words still hit Hallie hard, pained like sharp flints sliced her skin.

"You know, I could hear every single word you said," said Phaedra, tone devoid of life. "And they are all true."

They watched in abject silence as the few knights with blunt polearms jousted around, in an exaggerated display of heroism, before the stage cleared giving away to a medieval band.

The singer, a pretty girl with full lips and rich auburn hair braided, let her melody flow in old Scandinavian tongue. Another woman, slightly older, with tabor, in a sing-song tone explained the tale. A love ballad. The story of a troll princess who has fallen for a human knight, and her lovesick attempts at courting.

As the girl continued singing Herr Mannelig, Phaedra grew solemn. Eventually, she asked. "Why can't a troll princess marry a human warrior?"

"Well, the common belief is that the troll princess is actually a pagan princess while the Knight was perhaps Christian, and hence the divide," said Hallie. "Though there is another plausible explanation. It is more appropriate to infer that the troll princess is actually a berserking warrior woman. A female beserker, and hence the Knight's reluctance."

"A berserker?" questioned Phaedra.

"Berserkers are people who, in the midst of a battle, awakened to their full combat potential," answered Hallie.

"But there is a downside." Phaedra's tone took a darker note, heavy and pallid. "They cannot stop fighting. Their mind fractured at the moment when they awakened, relentlessly slaughtering, regardless of friends or foe or family. It was wrong of the troll princess to seek love. Wretched creatures like her do not deserve love."

"Everyone deserves to be loved," said Hallie, drawing Phaedra's attention.

The menkaran Sentinel remained unmoved. Her silvery grey eyes gazed at the crowd dancing before the singer, but the faraway look in them spoke volumes.

A fleeting glance confirmed to Astra that, unlike her own arguments which met the indomitable will of the sentinel, Hallie's suggestion seeped effortlessly.

"Come," called Hallie as she rushed to join the dancers. Sensing Phaedra still rooted to the ground, Hallie beckoned again. "Join me."

The Sentinel's frame stiffened, heels digging deep into the ground, nails sinking into her skin as she desperately fought with an unseen force.

"Phaedra, would you trust me?" asked Hallie. "If you find your faith in yourself wavering, then place the faith in me."

With no inclination to protest, Phaedra obediently followed. Soon, kicking up a gentle rhythmic beat, a genuine uncontested joy bloomed on the Sentinel's face.

"I would still keep an eye out." Astra liberated herself from the company, leaving Aria alone with Myles.

"I see you have modified the VBrane interfacer into matching ornaments." Myles broke the silence.

"That obvious, is it?"

"Only when you know what to look."

Aria gave a very controlled smile, polite and civil, the smile reserved for strangers in a social setting. Her fingertips automatically sought the comfort of the chain.

"The way you clutch it, I would surmise, you have already accessed its secret, and your hesitation... you have some unresolved matters bothering."

"Umm...so... like...this virtual world is a simulation, right?"

"Does it involve sexual fantasies?" asked Myles.

Aria felt her lungs slammed out of air. Not just the question, but the casual nature with which Myles broached the extremely complex subject. Her eyes sought the familiar form of Astra, drinking her brilliance. She needed answers, desperately. Those erotic dreams of Astra, her simulated version with all its allure and audacity, and finally, Astra herself. How she could linger precisely close to her guarded fantasies?

In return, Myles chuckled, a hearty and a mirthful noise. "My husband and I have indulged in enough scandalous deeds that nothing you say would shock me." A fleeting glance at Aria, and then he added. "Does it have something to do with your hot wife."

Hot wife. Aria could feel her cheeks burn. "Umm... yeah... There is a simulated version of her when I enter the VBrane world, right?"

For a single instant, Myles's expression became a mask of unreadability, but soon slipped to reveal his inviting smile. "Yes, a purely simulated version of her based on your perception of her."

"Perhaps, this might be an odd question, but that version in my dreams, that is not Astra herself somehow hacking into my visions, right?"

Myles eyes glistened with a strange twinkle, but the encourage smile overshadowed all. He gave a small chuckle. "Oh Aria. You harbour some fanciful notions. The Astra you encountered in VBrane is your own construct."

"Really?" The cynicism in Aria had deep roots.

"Of course. Look, I have no incentives to lie to you. My acts are purely altruistic."

"Uhhh... but... Astra here... she sometimes refers to events related to the simulations."

"Ah, yes. That would be The Purple Dodge effect. An observational bias. Your mind selectively focussing on certain information, and projecting them to enormous proportions."

"I am still not convinced." The scepticism in Aria spoke.

"Okay. Think about it logically. What is more likely to happen?" Myles paused, deliberately, for Aria to consider. With a cheeky grin, he continued. "Astra somehow trying to gather your attention in a Virtual world? Or just simple observational bias on your part? Looking at the two of you, as a fellow gay person, I would say, there is no need for Astra to initiate anything is such a contorted way."

Aria's face burned, blood turning to liquid fire at the notion Myles implied.

But Myles either ignored or was oblivious as he continued further. "You girls live together, right? All she had to do was just casually strip in front of you, and the next moment, it is bow chick wow wow. Your tongue would be exploring her every cavity."

The vision of Astra, barely clad, all her glorious curves and temptations, exposed, waiting for Aria to devour. Oh god. Her lips trembled at the mere memory. Astra's twitching hole, inviting and wet, Aria shuddered. Astra, this Alien who made her flustered more than anyone else, lived and breathed her in every fibre of her being, stroked her deepest desires, yet holding back at crucial times.

"Drink something." Myles handed her a goblet filled with an amber liquid. Aria was too preoccupied to ask the source. "The fantasies are running wild in the virtual world, correct?"

"Y-yes." Aria grew increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. Her muscles tensed and shivered at the thought of Astra literally naked and beckoning to rob her senseless.

Myles clapped his hands once. "And you are holding back." Not an accusation. Just a comment. "See, that is where the problem stems. The simulated world is a projection based on the analysis of your subconscious."

"It is?"

"If you analyse it further, it is more akin to a spring. The more you suppress, the more the tension piles. You get it?"

Aria nodded dumbly. Her own reasoning was getting far ahead of the situation, adding layers upon layers, blurring lines, throwing logic to the wind.

"All I am saying is, fuck the Astra in your dreams senseless, release all those pent-up tensions, do not hesitate to explore each, and every inch of her, taste her sweet juices." Myles flashed a grin. "No inhibitions. No holds barred. Do it over and over again. Let that imagination run wild."

Aria tried to restrain her jaw from dropping. Her body ached with a lust, waiting to erupt. It was impossible to hold back. She gulped, throat suddenly dry. Astra's form was no longer physical. It was pure and absolute desire. Her thoughts swirled, imagining Astra stretching wide and welcoming her exploring digits and she, in turn, spreading herself for Astra's love ministrations.

Myles grin widened. "There is no shame in it, you know. I get it, you are thinking of this as cheating on the real Astra, right? But it isn't. You are not doing it with anyone else. It is Astra. Just your version of Astra."

Can't deny that logic, Aria concluded, without any further thought.

When Astra returned, she found Aria drenched profusely in sweat, and in a colour of hot smouldering embers.

"Aria, are you alright?" asked Astra.

"Yes. All fine," replied Aria, eyes prodding the ground, refusing to meet Astra.

Astra drew her brows in a concerned line. "Would you like some water?"

Aria shook her head slowly.

"Your mouth looks dry." Astra stepped closer, placing her hand gently on Aria's forehead. Velvet gentleness radiated through her skin. Instinctively, Aria closed her eyes, savouring the feeling, relishing at the moment, till Kyle's voice broke the spell.

Before Kyle, stood an odd assortment of men and women, in medieval armour, brandishing an equally heterogenous set of weapons.

"Who will be the brave winner of the Knightly melee?" Kyle boasted in an excellent command of showmanship. "Before you, stands the brave warriors. No more mounts. No more dividers. Only strength and steel will decide the outcome."

A chorus of cheers erupted. Aria could actually infer Rodney is a green surcoat, proudly holding his two-handed sword.

"And the winner..." Kyle made a timed pause for anticipation to build through the crowd. "...will receive a gift from our very regal princess."

And then he pointed at Hallie.

Aria had to agree, when Hallie took the throne, there was regality to her every move. The way she rested, the turn of her head, her pose, and the way she beamed a smile. Hallie watching with an air of austere superiority, as the pile of otherwise soft-spoken accountants, analysts and managers, trying to make themselves appear ruthless is their very real metallic armour, fight through rounds in the pit.

When the first round ended, with only a select few, trained with wielding weapons, held their grounds, Kyle marched in, and delivered his rousing speech. "I present you the brave survivors. One of them would ascend, above the others, and gain the privilege to kiss the hand of our beloved princess in fealty and receive their prize."

"I will participate then." Phaedra leapt into the pit.

"As the Master of Ceremonies, I allow," said Kyle, knowing the stupidity of denying the Sentinel.

None of the participants bothering to challenge Phaedra, the rounds passed quick. Eventually, Rodney stood facing the menkari girl in the end. A few slashes and deep lunges, he attempted, which Phaedra swatted with negligible efforts. In the end, impatience drove the Sentinel as she slapped the weapon from Rodney's hand.

Rodney shrugged. "You are of a different league, could I recruit you for our team?"

"Why?" asked Phaedra.

"To put a joy on peoples faces." Rodney pointed at the cheering crowd. "Our fights might be staged, but the smile on their faces is very real."

Phaedra found the notion...tolerable. Ignoring Rodney, she slowly walked up to the throne, where Hallie extended her hand. A brilliant glow blossomed on her face, reducing the shimmer of the faux-ornaments and sequins on her regal gown.

The expression on Hallie's countenance did not escape the scrutiny of her best friend, as a wicked plan lanced through Aria's mind.

"The real prize should be the kiss of a princess." Aria shouted. "Kiss the winner. Kiss the winner."

Soon, the crowd joined, repeating in an ever-elevating chant. "Kiss the winner! Kiss the winner!"

With a challenged-accepted smirk, perceptible only to Aria, Hallie leaned, glossy lips making an oval shape.

Phaedra too leaned, her neck darted, presenting her cheeks for a kiss.

And Hallie closed her lips, sealing them upon Phaedra's. Not the gentle peck, or even a small lingering brush. Hallie looted Phaedra's inviting cavern, quite voraciously. The vulgar sound of chomping came, a golden line of drool ran down Phaedra's rich carnelian chin, as her torso edged forward. Panting breathlessly, neither of them moved. They remained motionless, impaled by a kiss that neither wanted to break.