The Royal Palace was a large, sprawling complex in the heart of the capital. It had not been designed according to a fixed plan, but had rather grown up organically over the course of several centuries, being added to or occasionally subtracted from as need or chance provided. There were therefore a number of towers, passages, gates, outbuildings, and courtyards set in odd places without any apparent rhyme or reason.
One particular small, triangular courtyard—little more than a gap formed where walls met at an odd angle—was a place of which Lillet and Amoretta were particularly fond. Maybe there was some sentimental connection to how they'd made up after a serious fight there once, or perhaps the seclusion it offered combined with the natural attraction of the maple tree in the center just suited them. For whatever reason, it was a place that the two young women liked to use to sit and talk together, or just to snuggle up close on one of the stone benches and hold hands.
Romance, however, was not on Amoretta's mind. Or rather, it was, since there was no mistaking that the rendezvous she was planning was in fact one rooted in love and affection, the feelings that delivered many bouquets to many women throughout the year. It was just the expression of that love that was different. She did not intend for quiet reminiscences, or for chaste kisses on the hand.
No, chastity definitely played no part in her intentions.
Having been put off in the morning and thwarted at noon, the homunculus had decided that she needed to stop relying upon chance and expectation to get her what she wanted, which was Lillet Blan out of her clothes and sobbing in ecstasy. The fundamental problem that she had to undress—address, she corrected herself, biting her lip—was that she had to be prepared for seduction. She could not simply hope that Lillet would be in the right place at the right time. Hoping was the emotion that had gotten her standing there after three o'clock with her mind consumed by images of a lithely curved blonde leaning forward with hands pressed against the wall, skirts bunched above her waist, looking back over her shoulder with a sultry invitation in her violet eyes...
The point being, if Amoretta wanted to spend a passionate hour, or two, or three (it varied, but had been getting steadily longer in her mind as the day wore on) with Lillet she couldn't just wait for the opportunity to do so to drop into her lap. That simply wasn't good enough. Just because they were in an existing, committed relationship didn't mean that she could sit back and let things happen as they happened. While her personal experience was limited to what she'd seen in others, the mistakes people made appeared to be that they spent all kinds of time and effort on the courtship and very little on what came after.
In other words, if Amoretta wanted an opportunity to seduce Lillet, she was just going to have to make one.
Which was why she was standing in this courtyard. A courtyard which did not have any overlooking windows. A courtyard which was surrounded by very thick stone walls and heavy, iron-banded wooden doors. Doors, moreover, to which Amoretta had secured possession of the keys. A courtyard, therefore, which was as functionally private as the room Amoretta and Lillet shared.
Amoretta knew that Lillet had an affection for seeing her body by firelight, the orange glow painting her skin bronze. But she herself liked to see Lillet by the light of the sun, which brought out the rosy glow of her peaches-and-cream complexion and made her hair shine like a golden waterfall where the sun caught the highlights.
When the invitation she'd sent brought Lillet there, Amoretta was sure that she'd be able to treat herself to that. She had confidence, after all, in her ability to seduce her lover when the circumstances allowed. That wasn't ego, just the logical conclusion brought about from three years' experiences. It was making the chance that presented the greatest obstacle.
The bell of the Palace clock chimed four times, echoing down through the sky, and not five seconds later one of the courtyard doors swung open to admit Lillet.
"Hi, Amoretta!"
Amoretta's heart lit up at the sight of her beloved. She really did dislike to be separated from Lillet; even the few hours apart required by their various duties each day was annoying. It was part of her homunculus nature, she understood, the need to be with the person who was the source of the love that quite literally sustained her existence.
That Lillet understood and wasn't bothered by a need for closeness, that in a human would have been abnormal, even obsessive, was one of the many things Amoretta adored about her. It would have been all too easy for her to grow tired and frustrated with Amoretta's clinging to her, but Lillet had never protested or complained.
The surge of emotion at seeing Lillet, therefore, didn't just come from Amoretta's aching loins. Maybe not even primarily.
That, as it turned out, was a very good thing.
"Oh, Amoretta, how are you? I haven't seen you in a couple of days."
The voice emerged from behind Lillet. A moment later, a woman who looked to be perhaps five years or so older than the blonde magician (though in reality, it was more like forty-five) emerged from the relative darkness of the hallway into the sunlit courtyard.
"Good afternoon, Mistress Artois," Amoretta said politely. She had, after all, learned some things about being tactful, and wasn't sure that the elder magician deserved to be a victim of her ire.
"I'm sorry that I missed lunch," Lillet said, apparently feeling that explanations were in order. Which they are, Amoretta thought. "Magic is very powerful in battle, but it's not really certain how it can best be integrated into mass combat for tactical effect."
"Or if it even should be," Stella Artois put in. "It's one thing to be ready to help defend the kingdom against magical threats like the Archmage, but quite another to begin deliberately integrating magicians into the regular standing army. For magicians to become viewed as instruments of royal tyranny just defeats the purpose of trying to fit our craft into normal society."
"I still believe you're overstating things. The Queen isn't a tyrant, and neither are her sons."
"I agree with that. But tell me, Mistress Blan, do you trust the Chamberlain, the Grand Council, and the noble lords the same way? Royal power is royal power, even if it's delegated."
"Excuse me," Amoretta put in, "but while I understand the ethical complexities of the issue, what I do not see is how it relates to why Mistress Artois has joined us."
"Oh, well, we were still discussing the point when I got your message saying you wanted to see me," Lillet said, "and I realized that since we hadn't been together all day you were probably getting uncomfortable, so I wanted to make time for you. But we were still in the middle of our debate, so I thought Mistress Artois and I could keep working on our opinion. Master Friexenet doesn't want to report back until we have some kind of consensus for the Royal Magicians. Besides, you're really good at ethical problems, Amoretta. I thought you might be able to offer some input on our position."
Touched as she was that Lillet would take time out of her schedule to satisfy her need for close contact, Amoretta still couldn't help but murmur sourly, "I was more than ready to offer input on a completely different position" under her breath.
