Chapter Text
Columbina followed the knight after a moment of thought, glancing at the wooden long sword on the floor, at her wrists and forearms where Sandrone had held her so tenderly, before walking—quicker than she usually would—after Sandrone. A small smile on her lips while doing so, the memory of Sandrone holding her even if just for a moment bringing an abundance of joy to her thoughts.
Usually, Sandrone never touched her beyond preening. Not even at night when Columbina clung to her. So that small moment of touch meant the world to her, enough for Columbina to already cherish the memory so beyond dearly.
Every step brought a new memory. How Sandrone allowed her to curl into the knight's side at night, how Sandrone's heart ate spiked each time, how Sandrone avoided interacting with most people but frequently interacted with Columbina
Sure, there was a two paces away rule when they were in public, but in private Sandrone preened her wings with gentle touches, allowed Columbina to cling to night, and now Sandrone had adjusted her stance with lingering touches. So Columbina couldn't help but smile to herself, couldn't help but feel warmth bloom in her chest as she followed her dearest's flustered steps.
—
Sandrone slumped onto a bench after multiple minutes of walking, the courtyard quiet and empty as she placed her head in her hands. It was only a moment of vulnerability, but that alone was far too much.
With one muffled groan, Sandrone straightened her back once more, composing herself with multiple deep breaths, her heart rate calming from its violent racing, the heat attacking her cheeks calming.
Just as she managed to fully compose herself, soft steps approached from her right. Upon looking up, Sandrone was met with the sight of a subtly smiling Columbina, the angel stopping two paces away, just as the knight had demanded so many times.
“Why did you walk away?” Columbina questioned, voice melodic and calming in a way Sandrone pretended to be annoyed by. “I thought you were teaching me how to duel.”
“I wasn't teaching you a single thing.” Around them, the world faded, focusing solely on Columbina. “What do you want, Columbina?”
Briefly, Columbina's silence stretched on, not even one of her usual hums filling it. And then, her lips suddenly curved into a much more visible smile.
“I once visited the House of the Hearth under Arlecchino's invitation,” Columbina began, head tilting to the side as she tapped her lip with a short hum. “They were telling stories to the children about knights.”
Sandrone observed the angel, irritation shifting to confusion, which bled into curiosity. “And what does that have to do with me?” Immediately, Columbina raised her palm, taking two large steps forward, prompting Sandrone to rise to her feet, brows furrowed slightly.
“Knights trail kisses up their lover's arm as a show of devotion. Like showing she is above one's self and ego.”
Sandrone stared. For eleven long, tense seconds, she merely stared, processing those words.
And then she scoffed, lips parting in shock. “I am not doing that.”
“Aren't knights supposed to do as their princess says? Just like those lullabies and stories, where the charismatic and serious knight bows to his lovers every whim because he can not bear to see her upset.” The angel grinned, still holding her hand out for Sandrone, who was now trying not to pass out from how hard her heart was beating.
“You,” Sandrone began, forcing her voice to stay steady. “Are not a princess, nor are you in a ridiculous fairytale,” She paused, eyes narrowing and then widening ever so slightly, her gaze flickering away with a moment of genuine hesitation. “...And nor are we lovers. My duty is to Her Majesty only, so unless you come to me with her demand, I hold no obligations to your requests.” Her eyes shifted back towards that arm, and then back up to Columbina's face, the angel's expression still bright, eyes hypnotising and almost knowing in a way that made her want to do as requested immediately.
Columbina's smile grew, her head tilting to the side ever so slightly, wings twitching in that undeniably happy way. “But I believe you made it your obligation to keep me happy, did you not?”
Warmth tugged at Sandrone's fingertips, the panic kind of warmth stemming from the fact her emotions were spinning out of the long kept up control and composure. “You are not in a child's fairytale, Columbina. I owe you no ridiculous acts of affection.” Heat then threatened to rise up the knight's neck after speaking, her ears a faint pink. She could reach out now, could kiss her wrist and up her arm right now, could listen to that blatant but silent soft spot she held for the angel and comply, but Sandrone didn't.
She stood still enough to rival the carved statues placed along each wall.
“It isn't a matter of owing me a thing, Sandrone. Does that noble woman within you, the one who only cares about tinkering with inventions, not wish to bring me joy?”
Gritting her teeth, Sandrone pinched her nose bridge, trying to maintain her barely hanging on composure. “Will you leave me alone if I do?” The noble woman comment made her heartbeat stutter even more, something almost melancholy seeping into her mind as she fought against every urge trying to overwhelm her.
“Maybe.” Columbina murmured, nudging her wrist into Sandrone's hand. Finally, the knight wrapped her fingers around that pale wrist, raising it before pressing her lips to Columbina's palm.
Her breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut to evade the reality of what she was doing.
and then her lips trailed to the underside of her wrist after adjusting her fingers, which were now trembling, unlike their usually complete steady stillness from years or training.
And then to the middle of her forearm, trailing higher until stopping on the angel's shoulder. Sandrone allowed her lips to linger against Columbina's shoulder for a second longer than the rest, exhaling softly. Each kiss brought a whole new swarm of emotions, each subconscious flutter of Columbina's wings when her lips graced the angel's skin made her own emotions spiral out of control.
It was easy to act as if she was irritated by Columbina because she was most of the time. And yet, Sandrone couldn't find herself imagining a world without while pulling back, a sudden, dreadful realisation, her cheeks a faint pink as she cleared her throat
“I… have work to do. You may guide yourself back to your flower gardens.”
For a moment, Columbina only stared. And then she stepped closer. “May I have a proper kiss before I leave?”
“That is crude. Absolutely not.”
“It is romantic, not crude. But very well, my dearest Sandrone.” The knight shifted where she stood, a shaky exhale betraying her mask of pure annoyance. Almost the second that sound left her lips, Columbina stepped closer, placing a hand on Sandrone's shoulder. “Would you prefer we dance beforehand? Just like lovers would do with one another.”
Sandrone choked on her breath, pupils dilating against her will against her will at the words.
She wanted to.
And that fact just wouldn't do. It was unprofessional to feel so strongly towards another. It tainted Sandrone's loyalty to Her Majesty, pulled her attention away from duty. But the knight really, desperately wanted to.
Sandrone collected herself, clearing her throat before speaking. “That is…Unnecessary. Do not be ridiculous.” Slowly, her hesitance barely covered by a sneer, Sandrone raised a hand to Columbina's wrist, removing the hand from her shoulder. “Do not touch me.”
The second her voice wavered on the last word, Sandrone knew Columbina had heard, the angel's face lighting up immediately.
“Is something the matter?” Columbina hummed, lowering her hand but not pulling away from Sandrone's hold. “For someone who declined by request and wants me to leave,” She shuffled another inch forwards, grin growing. “You are holding my wrist very tightly. You didn't even say any nasty words this time. Could that possibly mean you are—”
“It doesn't mean a thing!”
The outburst rang out in the courtyard, loud and filled with faux irritation to mask her panic. Columbina's lips were still parted with unsaid words, a silence settling over the both of them.
Her chest was heaving how, a genuine sound of pure agitation tumbling from her lips. “I,” Sandrone began, trying to calm herself as best as possible. “Am working. Leave me in peace instead of inviting yourself into my space.”
“My feathers have yet to be preened. Do you wish for me to preen them myself?” It was a test. Sandrone knew it was a test. Columbina was testing her temper for the day, just as usual.
But instead of walking away, Sandrone was already speaking. “Do whatever you wish to do. Call on a commoner to do it for all I care, just leave me to attend to my duties!” Deep down, Sandrone knew she would hate it if Columbina allowed another to do so.
With a frustrated groan, Sandrone adjusted the collar of her fitted black wool tunic, turning away as she muttered about needing her sword. Columbina didn't follow as the knight walked back towards the training grounds, not immediately at least. But Sandrone could feel Columbina's eyes burning into her back.
Only when the knight turned a corner did her shoulders relax, boots tapping against the floor in slower clicks, a short huff escaping her lips. The sun had now fully risen, beaming down on her mid-day clothing.
It caught the small badge of her rank, embroidered on her shoulder sleeve. It was her own design, created so others of the same rank could easily identify her and each other. She wore a black tunic, the collar a deep red, a sigh of her status in the kingdom.
Not many wore colour unless they were noble enough for it. Many wore only white or beige, so it was perfect for her to wear while on patrol if the sword wasn't enough of a sign.
Sandrone silently reached for that belt with her sword sheathe attached, fastening it around the top of her hips with efficient movements just as familiar steps approached behind her.
“I do not like it when anyone else touches them. You know this, Sandrone.” Columbina murmured, voice not quite sad but also not happy. And hearing this, Sandrone turned, assuring that belt rested on the waistband of her linen white trousers.
Finally, she pointed at a tree stump, shoulders no longer rigid. “Sit. And stop talking.” A small smile curved Columbina's lips as she settled, looking up at Sandrone. She didn't say thank you, the angel's manners still a work in progress, but Sandrone for once didn't comment on it and she placed two hands under Columbina's arms, pulling her back slightly.
She could have just told Columbina to do it herself, but somewhere in that knight's chest, she yearned to hold the angel for even a second longer.
“Tilt your head forward.” She murmured, voice significantly softer than previously.
“Are you not going to call me Dove this time?”
“Be quiet.” Columbina hummed in amusement at her words, doing as told and tilting her head forwards while Sandrone's gentle fingers found her first wing once again, cracking pin feathers and sliding them off, neatening feathers, removing anything that shouldn't be there.
By the third wing, Columbina leaned back, settling against Sandrone's front.
Immediately, the knight released that middle left wing, huffing. “Stop leaning against me.” Columbina didn't move immediately, as if relishing in the warmth of Sandrone's body against her back. But when Sandrone placed a hand on the shoulder and leaned her forward, Columbina stayed there.
The rest of that preening went well, undisrupted by any movements. It was a quiet moment, something Sandrone allowed the intimacy of without panicking or getting irritated. Her fingers moved gently, and Columbina remained relaxed before her, humming a quiet song as birds cawed and cooed around them.
It was peaceful, just as it always was. And Sandrone allowed it to linger instead of running away, her hands resting on Columbina's shoulder as she pretended to double-check those wings.
Inevitably, they had to part, though. Sandrone did have work to attend to.
Columbina didn't follow when the knight parted to attend to duty, but Sandrone knew she was watching, because Columbina always watched. Not in a creepy way, but in an almost admiring way, her gaze occasionally dreamy when Sandrone caught her gaze while on duty, the knight's cheeks immediately warming as she turned away.
It had been like that for a while, and deep down, Sandrone didn't hate it. There was something about Columbina that made the admiration mean more, made her feel more.
—
By the time Sandrone stepped foot in the town centre, it was already afternoon, people stepping out of her way immediately. It wasn't often that Sandrone allowed herself to be in public, so the stares were expected, people only recognising her from the sword and unusually straight posture for a knight.
She patrolled with measured steps, stared straight forward with a cold gaze, and didn't acknowledge anyone. Stares went ignored, murmurs, too, as did anything that didn't call for alert.
To say it was mind-numbingly boring would be an understatement, so much to that even the act of sitting still for a portrait could be more interesting. Only stone walls of the kingdom and thatch roofs of townspeople's homes with the occasional stray dog scavenging after being deemed useless for duty.
Eventually, by the time afternoon has come and gone, she finally finished with her tasks of assuring there were no liabilities to invasion or crimes occurring, only one man trying to steal bread, already taken away for whatever crime the Borough court decided his petty theft was worth, luckily no hue and cry being called upon due to his compliance.
Apart from that, nothing else occurred, and dreadfully, the second she walked back towards where she started, Columbina was waiting. It was unusual, as the angel tended to stay in Zapolyarny Palace most of her days until Sandrone returned.
“Why are you here?” Sandrone questioned once stood five paces away, not bothering with small talk First.
Conversation buzzed around them, Columbina looking nervous about the public appearance but happy to see Sandrone again after multiple hours in the same mix.
“I was waiting for you. I saw quite the beautiful patch of flowers, I was hoping to go see them with you.”
“And you had to come here to ask?”
Columbina stared, a stare that made Sandrone's heart thump against her ribcage that slight bit faster. “You tend to avoid me after you finish your patrols.”
“Because you irritate me.” Without thinking, Sandrone began walking back towards the castle doors, Columbina following immediately. “Just show me your stupid flowers.”
Columbina walked close beside her once out of public sight, shoulders almost brushing as she guided Sandrone towards an unfamiliar garden, Columbina's fingers brushing the back of her hand before Sandrone smacked it away, glaring at the angel as they stepped out into that mix of stone a wood porch, rain seemingly have beginning a downpour in the four minutes of walking it took to get to the garden.
Sandrone scoffed when Columbina paused under the shelter of the roofed porch, eyes shifting up to the rain and then the puddles.
“We… can return at a later date. I did not anticipate it would rain so soon.” The angel's disappointment was clear, a frown curving at her lips.
That frown was all it took, a proud huff escaping Sandrone's lips. She would call i just wanting Columbina to stop whining, but she knew it was because Columbina's earlier was true. She was a proud knight who couldn't bear to see her princess disappointed.
So she did step along that stone path, the rain soaking into her clothing and hair immediately. A confused flutter of wings sounded behind her as Columbina watched, those pink eyes widening a fraction, moons within them dilating as Sandrone crouched in front of the patch, scanning each one with a hum.
Columbina liked white. But she also liked pink and blue. There was a shade of red that could be mistaken as pink, and a blue, but an abundance of white. They were Aquilegia, a plant also called Columbine. So, in a way, it was a match.
After much thought, definitely too much of it, Sandrone grasped the hunting blade on the right of her waistband, opposite her sword sheathe, and cut the stem at the base, careful to avoid any of the other flowers.
Already, her face was burning as Sandrone stood, sheathing the knife and slowly walking back towards Columbina, shoving the flower into her hands while huffing, soaked head to toe in rain water.
“Take your ridiculous flower.” Columbina stared at her, lips parting and then closing as she accepted that flower, observing Sandrone's dripping face, how that carefully cut fringe clung to her face.
“...Thank you.” She finally murmured, smiling at the knight who was very clearly trying her best to act as if Columbina had made her go get the flower, avoiding eye contact.
“Don't… don't thank me. You were the one that was whining, it was annoying, and—” suddenly, the words died in her throat, replaced by a pathetic, cracking at the end ‘huh’ when those soft lips found her cheek, lingering for a second, and then two, and then three before Columbina pulled back.
The angel observed Sandrone's face, the more obvious pink hue to those usually pale cheeks, how the knight stared blankly ahead as if she had stopped processing entirely.
The world froze, shrinking down to Columbina, to them, before Sandrone barely composed herself to speak. “W—what was that for!” She choked out, holding her cheek as if she wasn't reeling with the urge to squeal into her hands like a lovestruck princess.
“I was merely returning the favour.” Around them, the rain still fell, but slower, pattering against the ground with less of a violent downpour. It was as if the universe were mocking her, mocking that moment of weakness where she had allowed that softness she had when Columbina was around to win.
Without replying, Sandrone spun on her heel, throat bobbing with that overswarm of emotions hit her. But one thing remained painfully clear.
She was in love with that stupid angel.
It was undeniable now. Her heart was racing harder than ever, her breathing was uneven, in the reflection of a window she could see her pupils dilated big, and most of all, she wanted Columbina to do it again.
She wanted to litter kisses across Columbina's skin and get flustered when Columbina returned the favour later in the day. She wanted to wrap her arms around Columbina's waist at night without the guilt of curling up with one she was not yet lovers with. She just wanted Columbina.
It was certainly an unfamiliar thought and feeling, especially the latter. Not once had Sandrone considered becoming another's lover, and now she was suddenly hit with the realisation she was wholly and entirely in love with a woman she claimed to be irritated by the very existence of.
Without thinking, she began walking towards Pulonia's stable, needing desperately to think and contemplate somewhere that people didn't go very often.
She approached the stone building with slow, measured steps to trick hr body into calming down. A hand on her swords while she walked with a straight back, not glancing at a single person around her. The stables were stationed close to the castle on the left wing.
Sandrone went often, spending a lot of time with Pulonia and assuring he got a sufficient amount of exercise. With a shaky breath, she reached for the leather gloves on her waistband, hands trembling as she pushed that wooden stable door open.
Inside of Pulonia's stable, Sandrone shakily tugged the gloves onto her hands, patting Pulonia's grey shoulder, adjusting that black but greying mane for a moment before placing her foot on the stirrup attached to his saddle, pushing herself up and onto the grey horse in on quick movement, settling with a sigh of exhaustion from the long morning and even longer afternoon.
Pulonia frequently helped when she was stressed, the stallion being her companion of many years now. Her gloved fingers curled around those reins, boots very gently nudging Pulonia's front leg as his signal to walk.
Every click of hooves against wet stone or gravel made her shoulders relax that little bit more, a shaky exhale escaping her lips as she guided Pulonia towards one of the kingdom gates, everyone around them going ignored completely.
Two years.
Two years of acting like Columbina was an inconvenience just to walk straight into the inescapable trap her traitorous heart had set. All because of a stupid blue flower Columbina had frowned because of, that soft spot finally betraying entirely.
And now she was fleeing, or at least trying to, from her feelings. Not permanently, she would come back in an hour or so, but she was fleeing regardless of a field she had discovered months ago.
The field was vast, the grass dying with changing seasons everywhere she looked. Sandrone slid off of the saddle, landing on her feet with a sharp huff.
Pulonia shifted on his hooves when Sandrone patted his shoulder, the knight murmuring a quiet stay as she dropped the reins, trusting her companion entirely to stay after many years of training, the grey Andalusian being her companion for seventeen years after her father, Alain had entrusted him to her.
Afterwards, Sandrone turned, walking towards a small lake running through the field, the water clear and untouched by man. With unhurried steps, she walked towards a tree stump, lowering herself onto it with a sigh.
The day had been long, filled with meaningless interaction with other knights, of walking around a kingdom she had little care for, of realisations she wished hadn't been realised.
Sandrone unsheathed her sword, placing it on her lap, over that sheet of leather she had placed instinctively. And then she reached for the small whetstone—a piece of sandstone every knight carried—on her waistband.
She watched as the stone was enveloped by the lake before her, assuring it stayed in the shallow littoral zone, where she could reach it when it had soaked up enough water and sand.
The process wasn't exciting in any regard. It was boring and relied on patience and precision, but Sandrone found at least slight enjoyment in the need for complete focus to assure she kept that 20° angle to avoid ruining her blade. It was the only reason she did the act of sharpening herself instead of leaving it up to a servant.
Though she wouldn't dare let any of her fellow knights know that fact, as sharpening one's own blade was seen as being below them.
With a drawn out sigh, Sandrone reached out for the whetstone, gaze bored as she for once touched her blade, holding it still as she positioned her wrist, angled perfectly just as she had practiced before honing that blade, a loud sshhk sounding out around her in the previously quiet field, startling birds and squirrels that were resting peacefully.
Beside her, grass rustled in an unhurried way, different from the sound of wings flapping and squirrels running.
“Sandrone.” She only glanced towards the source of that soft voice, observing Columbina’s face for a short second before refocusing on sharpening her long sword when her heart reacted, another loud sound she had long adjusted to ringing out. “I wish to be the one to ask you a question this time, just as you question me.” Sandrone did not pause sharpening her sword, nor did she immediately acknowledge the angel stood five feet to the right of her.
But eventually, she raised her head after multiple seconds of silence filled only by the wind, leaves rustling, and the sound of metal against a slurry of wet sandstone with sand being ground against each other, curiosity gnawing at her with a hint of need to speak to see Columbina. “Get on with it, then.”
Columbina's wings twitched, a hum for once not following after her words. “Why are you a knight? You do not seem fond of this job at all, so why?” Finally, Sandrone's hand paused mid-air, her eyes narrowing.
“Why do you stay in an open birdcage you do not like?” The knight asked back, returning to what she was doing with a quiet scoff. Columbina could leave the kingdom, she could have years ago, months ago, any time she wanted. But she hadn't.
Selfishly, that fact made Sandrone happy. She didn't want Columbina to leave. Some part of her wanted Columbina to stay with her until death do them part, even if Columbina didn't want to stay.
But it was clear the angel had grown tired of her place within those walls, not that Columbina had said it outloud, but it was clear.
After a moment of Columbina's silence, Sandrone spoke again, flipping her long sword to sharpen the other side. “Many people stay in situations they do not like. You are merely one among many.” Sandrone lifted her gaze once more, gaze meeting Columbina's own uncertain stare. “You, however, get the opportunity to leave most days. Others do not. Some never do.”
The words were flat, straightforward. There was no remorse for those suffering or a hint that told Columbina to be grateful. It was merely said as a fact she had long adjusted to.
“And the ones that do, why do they stay?”
“I do not know, Columbina. Perhaps that is a question you should ask yourself.”
Columbina's wings twitched, her head tilting with confusion laced with something almost melancholy. “But you always have an answer to my questions.”
“Knowledge may be the true pillar of this world,” Sandrone's jaw clenched, pausing for a sharp breath as she set that stone to the side momentarily, “But some fog is far too thick to be dispersed. Even for me.” That answer alone felt bitter being spoken aloud, the truth that there were just far too many answers, far too many solutions and obstacles to have one clear answer to study bothered her.
“That is… unlike you.” In truth, it was. And Sandrone hated it.
“If you are quite finished, I insist you leave me in peace.” Her hands moved automatically, heart racing with a mix of irritation and those same feelings from earlier in the day, the sun setting ahead of her as Sandrone grabbed the rag she had placed beside her, drying that blade completely.
“It is getting late. Do you not wish to accompany me back to our chambers? As you usually do?” Hearing that, Sandrone made a sound of pure frustration, not quite a groan, but something else.
Sandrone slid the blade against that leather on her lap, jaw clenched as she slid the blade five times each edge at a 20° angle, contemplating her answer carefully.
Until finally, she gave a long exhale. “Be quiet. I will be done in a few moments.” Sandrone didn't wait for a response, already reaching for that vial of olive oil, dabbing it on another rag specially for the process of oiling before coating the blade in it, cleaning away any remaining metal shavings and coating the blade so it would maintain quality.
When she glanced up instinctively, something within the knight pleading to get another look at Columbina's face, the angel was already staring. Something within her gaze made Sandrone's breath hitch, fingers freezing where she was putting everything away.
There was something pleading in those eyes, raw, unguarded. Immediately, Sandrone looked away, her throat tightening. Even now, she was still getting used to how her heart raced when Columbina was near, the feeling unfamiliar.
“You looked very relaxed. Not cold or irritated like you do in the kingdom, but truly peaceful.” Sandrone stood, finally clumsily putting everything back, sheathing her longsword with a trembling hand, the other holding the sheath still. Afterwards, the knight slowly walked towards Columbina, stopping an arms length away.
“I look at peace because you are not present to irritate me.” The words completely lacked any sharpness, a fact Sandrone tried her very best to ignore, just as she ignored those feelings.
Columbina didn't step back or walk away at the words. Instead, those white pupils that resembled the moons perfectly dilated. “You look very beautiful when you eventually relax, Sandrone.”
“I… relax plenty!” It was a lie. A lie even someone who knew nothing about Sandrone could figure out. She stood too straight, too rigid for someone who relaxed, watched far too carefully for someone who took breaks.
“You should take them more often. Even if you enjoy tinkering with furniture and equipment.” Columbina murmured, a hand sliding to Sandrone's jaw. The world suddenly felt very small and very warm at that touch, the chill from being soaked in rain evaporating, Sandrone's eyes widening a fraction as she forced herself not to look at Columbina's lips.
“Do not tell me what to do.” An arm came to wrap around the back of her neck, Columbina's face inching closer. Sandrone tried to tell herself that the hands she placed on Columbina's waist were merely to keep her still, but it didn't work.
Not when she was pulling the angel closer, not when Columbina was now leaning fully in, and definitely not when Sandrone herself closed that space herself.
The first kiss was short, very much so. Sandrone's nerves got the best of her, a single brush of those soft lips against her own, and she was already buzzing with panic. But Columbina followed, fingers tangling into Sandrone's wet dark blonde hair, those silky but soaked locks loosened from Sandrone's usually perfect bun.
It was slow, as if the world was giving them an infinite amount of time. But truthfully, Sandrone wouldn't mind that as her arms wrapped fully around Columbina's waist, pulling the angel significantly closer as they parted for a short breath.
It was everything Sandrone could have ever wanted and so much more, the soft lips she had torn her gaze away from countless times before scolding herself finally pressed against her own. Sandrone's fingers curled into Columbina’s white dress, arms wrapping even tighter.
But inevitably, Columbina leaned back, grinning in that unguarded way.
“I suppose this means I am a princess in a fairytale with her devoted knight.” She breathed, shifting to bury her nose against Sandrone's neck, fingers untangling from the knight's hair. Sandrone didn't respond to the statement, her mind swarming with overwhelming emotion, even more so when Columbina hugged her back.
Eventually, after multiple minutes of holding each other with the occasional short kiss in-between, Sandrone glanced at the darkening sky.
“We should return to our chambers. It is getting late.” For once, Sandrone didn't wish to run. She wanted to stay. Wanted this so beyond desperately.
“Yes, we should. You will catch a sickness if you stay in the cold.” Hearing the agreement, Sandrone peeled herself from that embrace, fingers curling around Columbina's wrist as she tugged the woman towards Pulonia.
She turned to that angel, pointing for Columbina to stand beside Pulonia once reaching where the horse was standing.
Immediately, Columbina reached out, only to be stopped by Sandrone's still gloved hand. “Don't try to push yourself up.” Columbina gave her a questioning glance but complied. When she did, Sandrone placed both hands on the angel's waist, sighing as if it was just another day's work while lifting her, placing Columbina onto Pulonia's back, leaving one hand on Columbina's knee for a moment too long afterwards.
Once Columbina had shifted, adjusting to face forwards, she tilted her gaze to stare at Sandrone. “How do you get onto him? He is practically taller than you.”
Sandrone placed a hand onto that saddle, shooting the angel a glare. Without answering, Sandrone considered her options.
She could use the stirrup, could pick the easy option. But Columbina was watching.
And usually, that wouldn't matter. But now she had a reputation to uphold as a knight in front of a lover, had a point to prove.
So without any hesitation at all, Sandrone smirked, scoffing in that proud way as her left hand gripped the pommel of the saddle, right hand latching onto the reins. If she could vault while in full armour, then she could certainly do it now.
“It is about as easy as walking, truthfully.” She huffed proudly, assuring her hands were stable before smoothly jumping, using that grip to pull herself forward instead of higher, swinging her right leg over the right side of that saddle and landing perfectly, a grin trying to fight its way to her lips. However, she forced that down, sighing as if it was nothing new, eyes fluttering shut as she hummed.
Without thinking, she adjusted Columbina's hands, wrapping them around her waist while muttering about safety, heart racing when Columbina happily wrapped her arms tighter around Sandrone's waist, chin slotted onto the knight's shoulder.
Sandrone tilted her head down, momentarily allowing that grin to surface before quickly composing herself when Columbina's cold hand slid into her own.
“You have much more upper body strength than I expected.” The angel hummed, lips curved into a smile. Immediately upon hearing the words, heat crawled up Sandrone's neck, her breath stuttering. Without waiting a beat, she bit the inside of her cheek, forcing the even more giddy grin to stay as a smirk.
The knight lightly nudged Pulonia's front left leg, his signal to walk. “Well I am Sandrone Guillotin, after all. Of course I do.” The pride in her voice was thick, thick enough to pull away soft chuckle from Columbina's lips.
The return was much more peaceful than her exit from the kingdom, Columbina murmuring every few steps about a bird or something she saw, and Sandrone would mostly respond. It stayed like that all the way until they returned to the stables, where Sandrone helped Columbina off before removing Pulonia's saddle and removing her gloves, attaching them back to her belt as she wished her companion a good night.
The walk back to their chambers was spent with Columbina's arm looped around her own, a comfortable silence settled over the both of them that lingered from the first step all the way until they were ready for bed, Columbina's feathers preened, Sandrone now dry.
Once curled up in bed, Columbina finally spoke.
“I think I love you.” The angel shifted closer, Sandrone's arm tightening around her waist. In a way, the words made Sandrone's heart ache. The way Columbina has said she thinks, but Sandrone didn't say that out loud.
“Tell me when you know you love me.” She muttered in reply, gaze flickering away. This was still new, very new for the both of them, but Sandrone wanted Columbina to know it. She wanted that woman to love her too.
“I am not sure what love is,” A horrible start, one that made Sandrone's breath hitch before Columbina even finished speaking. “But you feel how those who do know describe. Like you mean more than anyone else, like you mean more than the world itself.” Sandrone turned her head to stare at Columbina in the dark, her heart racing with each pattern the angel traced on her stomach.
“...Then I suppose we will figure it out together this time.” It wasn't an out loud promise, but it was a silent one. That she would try, for them, for this. Columbina only hummed in reply, smiling against her collarbone, shifting much closer than before.
It wasn't something either of them was familiar with, but Sandrone wanted this. Wanted to grow so familiar with it that she couldn't live without it. And so she shifted to hold Columbina tighter, muttering an ‘annoying’ under her breath while doing so, that warmth blooming in her chest no longer being forced down as she imagined a future with Columbina instead of without.