"The Olive Witch," Jocelynn whispered as she looked up at her sister. Already, her mind began to turn, conjuring up every random thing she’d read about the olive groves of Keating, the price of their oil, and...

"None of that," Ashlynn said, tapping her sister gently on the forehead. "Save those thoughts for later. Right now, focus on what’s most important."

"Most important?" Jocelynn murmured, still grappling with the notion that she could become a witch, like her sister. The thought was impossibly large for her to wrap her mind entirely around, filled with horror stories about the witches of the past, the Evil Queen, and countless others. At the same time, images of the sacred oak tree and the shining sapling that had grown from the Lothian throne filled her mind along with her own sister’s heroic figure fighting against the man who had caused them both so much pain and suffering...

There was so much she didn’t know, so much that was likely wrong, and there were probably dozens of things she hadn’t even thought to ask Ashlynn about, so... So what could be ’most important’ right now?

"Are you going to finish helping me wash up?" Ashlynn asked, gesturing to the washcloth that lay forgotten in Jocelynn’s hands. "Or should I take over before the water cools?" she teased.

"Oh!" Jocelynn said, turning beet red in embarrassment. "I’m sorry, I..."

"It’s fine," Ashlynn interrupted. "Some things needed to be said, and I feel better for having said them. I hope you feel better too," she said, lightly cupping her sister’s cheek and looking into her seafoam eyes.

The darkness and despair within Jocelynn’s gaze had retreated, though it still lurked in the downward tilt to her eyes and the shifting movements that struggled to meet her sister’s gaze too directly. But unlike earlier, Ashlynn could also see a glimmer of hope in her sister’s watery eyes, and thoughts of a future beyond tonight seemed like they’d taken root in Jocelynn’s mind.

It was a far cry from healing the wounds to her heart that Jocelynn had suffered in the past nine months, but it was a start. And, just like the sapling that Ashlynn had grown in the Great Hall, so long as they were able to nurture it, that tender start could grow into an even stronger bond than the one they’d shared before. They just had to be patient and take things step by step.

"Um, can I ask questions?" Jocelynn asked as she dipped the washcloth back into the water and started gently scrubbing away the dried blood that trailed from Ashlynn’s wounds. "About some of the other things you said?"

"Of course you can," Ashlynn said, closing her eyes and leaning into the chair as she let the scent of the soap, salty air and sweet sea grass, carry her away to happier days before Owain Lothian had forced his way between them. "Ask me anything you want..."

For a moment, Jocelynn pursed her lips, trying to decide where to begin. There was so much that Ashlynn had mentioned in passing, and there were so many shocking things that she knew she’d missed half of them, but a few lingered in her mind.

"What’s it like?" Jocelynn asked as she stood up to start letting Ashlynn’s hair down, taking it out of the tight braids she’d worn for her duel. "Living in the Vale of Mists," she clarified. "Is it... Is it hard, living among the, um, the Eldritch?" Jocelynn asked.

"It was hard at first," Ashlynn admitted, recalling her first days in the Vale when she was still struggling with the feeling of losing control of her life and losing touch with the world she’d known before. "But I made friends there. Heila was there from the start, taking care of me and helping me learn about the Vale."

"She’s my lady-in-waiting now," Ashlynn added. "And the Willow Witch. You’ll like her," she said with a smile. "She’s not very tall, only up to your waist, but she’s one of the bravest people I know. She saved me, more than once."

"Georg is precious too," Ashlynn continued. "He looked big and scary when I first met him because I’d never met anyone from his clan before. He’s as strong as a bear with claws that are twice as sharp, but he cooks the most delicate pastries, and he makes the most delicious meals," she explained. "I learned a lot from him, helping in his kitchens, but I still can’t match his skill."

"They, they made you work in the kitchens?" Jocelynn said, her fingers pausing in their work as she stared at her sister in shock. "Why would they do that to you?"

"They didn’t make me," Ashlynn said. "I asked to. After I became Nyri’s Seneschal, um, that’s the title for someone who has a blood bond with a True Vampire like Nyri," she explained quickly. "After we formed our bond, I gained some of her powers. Strength, speed, but also sharper senses... other things..."

"But I had to train the powers I gained," Ashlynn said. "I had to work for all of it. Strength and speed I could learn from practicing sword fighting with Thane, but to sharpen my hearing, sight, sense of smell, and touch... I went into Georg’s kitchens and learned to cook from him. It was practice, but it was also delicious," she concluded with a wide smile.

"I see," Jocelynn said, going back to taking down Ashlynn’s hair. "So they didn’t force you. And the Lady of the Vale," she said, coming around to the question that felt too delicate to have started with, but that she most desperately wanted an answer to.

"You said her name was Nyrielle," Jocelynn said hesitantly. "But, you call her ’Nyri’ the way you call me ’Jocey,’ and you have a bond of blood with her," she said as she put the pieces together. "Does that mean that she’s like a sister to you?" Jocelynn asked.

She clamped her mouth shut as soon as the words made it past her lips, before she could ask the question that burned within her heart. ’Does that mean she’s taken my place in your life?’ There was no way to come out and ask something like that, but when she heard the softness in Ashlynn’s voice every time she spoke of the ancient vampire, something ugly and familiar reared its head in her heart.

Jocelynn had no one to blame but herself if Ashlynn found other people to fill the space in her heart that had once belonged to her, but that didn’t mean that hearing it wouldn’t hurt.

"Ha, ha, ha," Ashlynn giggled lightly at Jocelynn’s question. "No, no, nothing like a sister to me," Ashlynn said. "There’s only one person who’s really been like a sister to me, and that’s Amahle, the Mother of Thorns. She’s the witch who taught me half of everything I know about witchcraft, and she believes that all of us are family. She’s my ’big sister’ as a witch," Ashlynn explained, putting Jocelynn at ease.

"But Nyri," Ashlynn said, opening her eyes to watch her sister’s reaction. "Nyri isn’t a sister. She’s my lover, the woman who holds my heart in her hands, and the person I intend to marry now that my ’husband’ is dead..."