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"Can I rest my head on your lap?" Amber asks one day, while they're alone.
Amber sometimes says the most curious of things. The most offensive things. The most startling, uncalled for, unexpected–
"Is that a 'no'?" She asks.
Eula's train of thought comes to a screeching halt. The brakes have been slammed on. Ration and coherency has flown out the window.
"I didn't say that," Eula insists. There seems to be a disconnect between her tone of voice and her expression. One is cheerful and the other dour. She's lost track of which is which, but her limbs suddenly feel cold, and that's never a good sign.
Nervous? Why would she suddenly be nervous? Around Amber, of all people?
In an attempt to be helpful, Amber adds, "If you don't want to, you don't have–"
"Vengeance will be mine!"
The other girl abandons the rest of her sentence and squeals in delight. There are no words, initially, only strange happy noises. Then Amber says, "I love you, Eula," and flops onto the sofa with her head resting on Eula's thighs. She looks so content, so pleased with herself, while Eula's head is still spinning in confusion.
"This is… what you wanted, yes?" Eula has to double check.
Amber’s head on her lap feels heavy, but not uncomfortably so. She smooths out her hair, tilts her head to a more comfortable position, then smiles. Eula is almost certainly going to have stray hairs on her clothes after this, a violation of the Lawrence family's rules for presentability, yet she doesn't want Amber to move.
How odd. Normally, she worries about the arbitrary rules she grew up with even when she doesn't want to. It's more like a passing thought this time.
Perhaps the time she's spent away from the nobility is causing it to slowly lose its grip on her.
Firmly pushing that thought out of mind, Eula returns her focus to the girl laying atop of her. Her eyes are closed, but she's not asleep. "Still plan on getting vengeance?"
Eula doesn't know how to respond to that. Instead of answering, she clears her mind the way she was taught as a child, and meditates on the quiet room, the weight of Amber's head on her thigh, and the warmth under her skin.
"Yes," she decides finally. "I do plan on it."
X
"Can we hold hands?"
"Why?" Eula responds a little too quickly. Her etiquette tutor would have hit her hand with a ruler for giving away her surprise.
Oh, but she was no longer a gangly, awkward child, was she? She was much stronger than she had been in the past, more capable of handling setbacks and less afraid of disappointing others. Something about Amber made the other girl an exception. Although Eula wasn't afraid of Amber, being around the other girl often brought back memories of her childhood, when she might have been.
Eula hid it well, behind an inflexible mask made of stone. She'd always had very mild reactions, to put it one way. Where other children were punished for screaming or crying, Eula's aforementioned tutor had been forced to look for even the smallest of tells in order to carry out their lessons.
In short, the question surprised Eula. She also didn't believe Amber had noticed how much it surprised her.
"Because holding hands sounds nice," Amber replied happily.
Evidence that Eula was right, and she hadn't noticed. Deciding that she was in no danger of being tricked or humiliated, Eula gave the request careful consideration. Her fingers were calloused from long hours of training, and her hands were better at holding claymores than another person's hand. Amber had exceptional skill with a bow, so surely she would be able to relate?
"I'm not sure how comfortable my hands would be," Eula admitted.
There. Honesty.
She hadn't exactly denied her feelings, but she hadn't forced herself to admit them either.
"Comfortable enough!" Amber, as optimistic as always, replied.
Without another second of hesitation, she snatched Eula's hand up in hers. Amber threaded their fingers together, and Eula simply allowed it to happen, fascinated by the way they intertwined. They fit snugly together, like pieces of a puzzle. Amber gave Eula's fingers a light squeeze, and her eyes, another smile.
For a moment, Eula was worried that it would end. Or that Amber would open her mouth and say to her, "Just let me know when you want to stop". Something silly and unwanted, something along those lines. Then Eula would be forced to decide between lying or admitting that she never wanted to let go.
Amber never said anything, nor did she let go. The hand holding didn't cease until it was time to part ways again.
X
The next time Amber made a request, it was to give Eula a hug.
"Fine," Eula replied. Suddenly worried that she was being too direct again, too vulnerable, she quickly added, "Make it last three seconds or fewer."
Amber quirked an eyebrow, but didn't complain. "Okay."
Her arms circled Eula's waist and then disappeared so quickly, it was almost as if she hadn't touched Eula at all. Only the ghost of a touch remained, a lingering phantom of Amber's touch on her sides. It made her skin tingle slightly. Eula thought that she maybe sort of enjoyed it.
But she wasn't ready to ask Amber for another. Not yet.
"Thank you for letting me do that," Amber said. The hug had, as promised, lasted fewer than three seconds, yet Amber wasn't complaining.
Eula wanted to reply, "Thank you for giving me the opportunity to experience it." What she said instead was, "Vengeance will be mine!"
X
After that instance, Eula technically made the next request. But it was due to a comment that Amber had made.
"Eula, your hair looks so soft."
"Would you like to brush it?" Eula asked. Almost immediately, she wasn't sure why. The words had slipped out.
"Can I?" Amber questioned back.
"My family's rules dictate that a woman's hair must receive no fewer than a hundred brush strokes per day, to retain its health and silky sheen." Eula started out telling the truth, but shifted into a fib for the second half, "I was in a rush this morning, and only had time for, hm… eighty-eight."
The truth was that the Lawrence family did provision rules even for brushing hair, but Eula no longer took the time to count exact strokes. It had been years since she'd last bothered counting, around the time she'd finally broken away from the nobility.
"Can I use my hairbrush?" Amber asked next. "Or is there a rule against that?"
"I'll make an exception this time," Eula said, sitting on the floor in front of Amber.
Somehow, the way Amber's hair brush glided through her hair felt better than Eula's own. She especially liked the gentle pressure from Amber's fingers, the gentle touches as the other girl removed Eula's headband. Before picking up the brush, Amber sifted her fingers through several strands of Eula's hair.
"It's every bit as silky and soft as it looks," she said.
"Of course it is."
"I'm going to start brushing now, okay?"
Realizing that her previous comment may have come off as rude, Eula replied, "Yours looks soft too."
What a lame attempt to rectify the situation. Luckily, Amber didn't seem to think there was anything that had needed rectification.
"One, two…" Amber counted out loud, for every time the brush reached the ends of Eula's hair.
Twenty-two had been a good number. Much better than the three seconds she'd mandated last time. Eula closed her eyes and relaxed her posture, unbothered by the way her shoulder bumped Amber's knee. She concentrated on the sensation, on the sound of Amber's voice, and time seemed to lose all meaning.
X
"The time to have my revenge has finally arrived!" Eula announced one day.
Unimpressed, Amber replied, "Don't you have a list to get through first?"
That… was not the reaction Eula had practiced for in front of her bedroom mirror earlier that morning. She stuttered in a very un-noble fashion. "A… what?"
"A list," Amber replied. "You know, your list. The one that you always mention whenever I ask when you plan on seeking revenge on me. Then you say," for this, she lowered her voice to imitate Eula's curt, noble speaking patterns, "The time has not yet arrived. I have many people to get vengeance from before I can get to you."
"I-I do not talk like that!"
"You're right," Amber agreed. "But I can't quite imitate your fancy manner of speech. So that's as close as I can get.
"Anyway, what's the occasion?"
Eula recomposed herself with a deep inhale. Amber liked to occasionally tease, but luckily, never more than Eula could handle.
"The reason you've moved to the top of my list," Eula began, making a slight adjustment to the speech she'd planned, "is because I've decided… No, I've realized that you're more important to me than all of those other people. Than everyone else. What I mean is–
"Outrider Amber, the day has finally arrived! For the acts of physical affection, including but not limited to requesting lap pillows, holding hands, hugging, and hair brushing, I, Eula of the Laurence family, shall have my revenge! I hope you're prepared to pay me back in full!"
"Gladly," Amber replied.
"You're not supposed to be happy about this! I'm seeking vengeance."
"My bad, sorry." Amber forced a more serious look onto her face, and shifted to make more space on the couch she was sitting on. "Now come give me a hug, silly."