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“How did this happen?” Maris asked, her hand grazing the skin below a scar on her upper thigh.

Valda grunted as she got comfortable enough; her hand dropped from Maris’s shoulder to lay on the bed. “It’s all blurry. I don’t really remember.”

“Try?” Maris whispered, a silent plea to learn more about Valda.

Valda exhaled harshly, pressing her head against the pillows, her eyes closed as she tried her hardest to remember. The cold slice of a sword penetrated her memory, followed by her piercing screams and bright tinge of blood. “Sword wound.”

“How old were you?”

Valda raised an eyebrow. “Seventeen.”

Maris nodded. “And this one? This one looks… big.” She ran her fingers from Valda’s toned abdominal to her back.

“Another sword, twenty.”

“And this?” She touched Valda’s eyebrow.

“Edge of a table, three.”

Maris snorted, and Valda grinned. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“That’s fine. I like listening to you laugh,” Valda said. “It is incredibly calming.”

“Good to know. I like it when you are calm.”

“And when I am not?”

“Then I don’t like you,” Maris said as a matter-of-factly. She folded her hands on Valda’s chest and rested her chin there.

“What about you? Do you have any scars?” Valda asked.

“Oh! Of course! I got plenty. Give me your hand.”

Valda frowned and held her hand out for Maris.

The younger woman took the large hand and pressed Valda’s fingertips to the bottom of her chin. “You feel that?”

Valda frowned and rubbed her fingers over a small crescent-shaped line. “Yes?”

“Floor, four years old.”

Valda snickered. “Who won?”

“The floor put up a great battle, yet I was victorious.” Maris tried her hardest to sound serious, but failed miserably as Valda cupped her chin.

“I don’t doubt you,” Valda said, touching the scar with her thumb once more. “You are strong.”

“Am I?” Maris asked, sighing and leaning into Valda’s caress until she pressed her lips to her palm.

“More than you may think.” Valda’s chest rumbled as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer to her lover. The weight and tiredness of the day fell on her like a brick. Maris’s warm body lulled her into a content state as she fell asleep.

18

Maris woke to something bumping into her head. Once again, Cerberus's furry face was the first thing that she saw in the morning. Her large paws kneaded the pillow next to her. Valda exited the washroom. The sudden rush of heat took Maris at the sight of the queen completely nude. Inhaling deeply and sitting up, Maris pulled the sheet from her body, noticing the marks. Their late-night activities were evident on her waist and thighs, painted by Valda’s rough hands.

Cerberus bumped her head against Maris’s back, meowing loudly for attention, which earned a short session of scratches under the chin. Valda walked towards her; a bright smile painted on her full lips. Hand outstretched, Valda reached out for Maris who grabbed her fingers and gave them a firm squeeze.

“Slept well, Seashell?” Valda asked, as she leaned towards her.