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Two rivals stand opposed to each other on their most familiar battleground. On one side, a masked man with power over flames and objects, adjusting his glove as his face relaxes into a confident smile. On the other, a glaring wizard, her spellweaving both careful and lethal.
But this battlefield is not a physical one. It is a battlefield of the mind: the courtroom. Canton, the defense, and Tenulia, the prosecution. After their first encounter in the trial of Dalkhaust Alean-Dlues, the duo became the most iconic attorneys in Ansennore, notorious for uncovering and solving the grandest conspiracies of their time.
The final puzzle they are about to solve now lies before them: that of love. The sparks existed for decades. The flames of passion were suppressed for years, but after finally allowing them to thrive, it now threatened to burn them down.
After all, how could an orphan from Avalua possibly find love with a noble from Ansennore? Notwithstanding their opposing heritage, the optics of their union would be insurmountable; the country is not yet ready to accept them. Years of simmering passion and close, seemingly-platonic companionship have been left to languish.
“No more,” thinks Canton as the trial wraps. He gathers his files with his mind and tucks them into his bag of holding before walking into the prosecution’s chambers. His normal saunter is now that of a flighty butterfly carrying all of his hidden passion, the nerves of emotional vulnerabilities greater than facing any archfey.
Seeing him enter, Tenulia waves Ivoran, her incompetent lord-in-waiting, off. The older man hastily exits, bowing and apologizing for getting in the way (like always).
“Well done in there,” Tenulia says, extending her hand to Canton.
“And to you,” he replies, grasping it firmly yet tenderly. “Where do you think it lands on our list of best solves?”
Their hands remain clasped. “Top third, I imagine.”
He smiles softly. “Not bad.”
Tenulia nods, feeling a sudden heat rush to her cheeks. She withdraws her hand, looking away. “Yes. Well… I should be going. And… I imagine you need to get back to Oricia’s Paradise.”
Canton swallows, closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. “Actually, I was hoping you were free for dinner tonight for a post-case celebration? I’ve… missed you lately.”
Tenulia’s shoulders tense. “...I’m sorry, I can’t tonight.”
He takes a step forward, tempted to place his hand on her shoulder. “Tenulia… Have I done something wrong? I feel as though you’ve been avoiding me.”
She slowly takes another step, keeping her back turned. “I… have.”
Canton purses his lips. “I thought as much.”
“Mmm.”
“I know why, too.”
She laughs ruefully. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
He strides forward, now just a step away from her. “Then tell me what I can do to change your mind!” he pleads. “What about us doesn’t work?”
She whirls around, her eyes glistening. “It’s not about us! It’s everything around us! You think we’d be able to work together professionally if the court knew we were… involved? You think the public would be okay with the chief prosecutor of Ansennore, twelfth in line to rule Galla Astoris, fraternizing with… with…”
“Someone like me?” Canton finishes, scowling.
Tenulia grimaces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
Canton says nothing, now being the one to turn away.
Tenulia’s shoulders sag. “I don’t…” her voice cracks. “I don’t think we should be romantic anymore.”
Blood roared in Canton’s ears. His vision blurred.
“We’ll… We’ll be fine as friends. But anything more…”
Neither of them can find the words. The pair stand there for a prolonged moment, agony roiling off them in waves. Finally, Tenulia breaks the silence again.
”I should probably get going, so… I guess I’ll see you later.”
The sound of her receding footsteps echo like explosions in Canton’s ears. Each one was an Eldritch Blast to his heart. She was slipping away. Were she to leave now, she’d be gone permanently.
He whirls around on his heel.
“Listen, Tenulia! I… I love you! I’ll say it!”
Tenulia stops moving, freezing mid-step.
“Who cares if the rest of the world can’t see it?” he continues fiercely, involuntary sparks of magic flickering on his fingertips. “I’m done suppressing this flame! Can’t you just—”
Canton was interrupted by her grabbing him. Time stood at a standstill for one perfect moment, her blazing red hair perfectly matching the sparks flying between their hearts and in the gaze between them. Tenulia’s breath catches and she pulls him closer, looping one arm around his neck and the other around his waist, the physical distance between them now next to nothing, each diminishing inch making them desire each other more, the flames of love burning the rest of the world behind them, the passion between them exploding as their lips met in a fiery ki
“Whatcha writing, babe?”
Venus let out a blood-curdling shriek as Sofiya appeared behind her, nabbing the parchment from her desk. “NOTHING! Give it back!” she yells, standing up abruptly from her chair (knocking it to the floor) and reaching for the incriminating tale in the half-elf’s left hand.
“If it’s nothing, then why do you want it back so bad?” Sofiya taunts in a sing-song voice, her skin tingling as the eldest daughter of the Faithful Valors tries to climb her taller form, stretching her arms with a grunt.
“Just… just give it!” Venus cried.
“I’m not gonna tell anyone you’re writing Cantnulia romance again,” Sofiya giggles, finally taking the initiative to push her away just firmly enough to force her to sit back on a nearby couch. “I just want to read it!”
Venus crossed her arms tightly. “You were probably already reading it over my shoulder.”
“Maybe,” Sofiya clicked her tongue. “But now I can fully appreciate their love!” She brought the pages under her nose and started reading them exaggeratedly. “Ooh, it’s so scandalous… but it cuts off right at the kiss! Maybe we should—”
“I’m not going to be here for this!” Venus decided, suddenly vanishing in a puff of mist. Sofiya sighed and glanced behind her, witnessing the very tips of her coattails scurrying out of sight. Reactions of that nature had become much more common lately.
The two daughters of the Tangerine Pirates had seen a lot of each other as kids, but as they’d grown into young adults, what started as purely friendship had slowly yet undeniably shifted into something more—something that felt so wrong yet so right. It had been a year since their first kiss, yet still no one but Mars, Venus’ twin, knew about their involvement.
Worse, as of late, both had been saddled with greater responsibilities, providing less time for dalliances. Venus was heading up more and more of the Faithful Valors’ acts of charity, while Sofiya was being geared up to take her father’s place as the head of the Balan district of Meynesh.
It shouldn’t have been her responsibility, but Belrond had decided he wanted to be a professional traveling finger painter, of all things, instead of fulfilling his obligations to his city.
With a roll of her eyes, Sofiya flopped onto the couch and began reading the work. No matter how she teased her for it, Sofiya did genuinely think Venus’ writing was excellent.
She flipped back to the beginning. There was much more than she expected—she’d only caught a glimpse of the last paragraph before nabbing it.
…
Her hands began trembling.
Venus had written plenty of romances before. Not just about Canton and Tenulia, but about fictional characters, too. And all of them had been powerful.
But this one was different. Sofiya could see it from the moment she began reading.
It wasn’t about Canton and Tenulia at all.
~~~~~
Venus didn’t know where she was running. The Leopetor’s manor was huge; she still hadn’t seen all of it.
She found herself alone in a greenhouse, the rising sun casting an orange glow over the exotic plants. She closed the door behind her and slumped against it, failing to steady her rapid breaths as she took her face in her hands.
Sofiya knew.
There was no way she didn’t.
Venus had written dozens of romantic vignettes, but the noble girl had never seemed to pick up on the subtext.
Which made it all the more heart-rending the contents of the story she was now reading, in which Venus had dropped subtext almost entirely.
She’d spent all night writing. She’d been almost a passenger in her own body while doing so, her hand moving of its own accord and scrawling down the doubts her mind would never stop echoing.
But this was real life. This wasn’t a romantic fairytale. Real people didn’t have her as an author to figure out all their problems.
And yet.
And yet she had allowed Sofiya to nab the story from her. She’d run away, yes, but she could have taken the parchment back. She supposed part of her—a very large part—wanted it to be over and done with—for both of them to finally voice what they’d been dancing around for too long. At least then she could stop going to bed in Sofiya’s guest room with her stomach roiling incessantly.
If Uncle Canton had taught her anything, it was that it was always better to let the truth come out. He’d tricked Arden into admitting her feelings for Belrond while camping in Eastern Lordorin, and that had worked out. Venus had attended their wedding last year.
But Belrond had renounced his nobility long before meeting Arden. He’d willingly stepped aside for Sofiya to take the lead on inheriting the district. Kelros had matured a lot as his daughter grew into the role—she was now technically twelfth in line to lead the entire city, not just the district.
Meanwhile, Venus and Mars had similarly begun to inherit further duties in Alex’s organization. That was ostensibly why Venus was in Meynesh to begin with—to further develop the Faithful Valors’ influence in the city and establish a permanent building for the charity. Alex had adopted several children, but her eldest twins were learning far more than any of the others so far.
Venus rubbed her eyes heavily with her palms. She knew neither of their parents had any problem with a less-than-traditional relationship. That wasn’t the issue.
The issue was the more conservative nature of Meynesh as a whole. A noble could never be caught dating an orphan from the streets of Avalua, much less…
Venus put her fist in her mouth to choke back her sobs. Despite everything that had progressed, and despite Meynesh switching to an electoral system under Kelros’ purview, political offices were still occupied more than 90% by old noble dynasties—familiar faces for the public. Familiar faces that were expected to have biological heirs.
Familiar faces… That were leaning down right in front of her?
“Hey.”
“AGH!”
Venus jumped to her feet. Sofiya was standing right there. She hastily turned away and wiped her eyes. “U-uh, hello. Did you, um… did you—”
She was cut off by a hug.
Sofiya’s arms were wrapped around her, the noble’s chin resting on her head as Venus instinctually leaned into her torso.
For a quiet moment, neither woman moved. Venus’ throat bobbed. Sofiya inhaled deeply through her nose.
“It’s alright,” she whispered, though the quaver in her voice told Venus everything she needed to know.
Finally, slowly, Sofiya pulled away, resting her hands on Venus’ shoulders and gazing deeply into her eyes. “Do you really think any of that is going to stop us?”
“I…”
“I’m not saying it’ll be without challenges. But what we have… it’s not wrong. If the city can get accustomed to my dad as leader, they can get used to us.”
Venus shook her head, eyes foggy. “But what if they don’t?”
Sofiya gave a lopsided smile, a near-mirror of her dad’s. “We’re elected officials now. We won’t stay in power if we’re not wanted.”
“You can’t give that all up for me!”
“Sure I can.”
Venus had known Sofiya for nearly two decades. In all that time, there had been startlingly few instances where her face was devoid of any playfulness. Off the top of her head, Venus could only produce 2 prior instances.
She was now witnessing the third.
“After all,” Sofiya smiled softly. “I love you.”
Time stood still. The rest of the world fell by the wayside as Venus’ body was drawn to Sofiya’s. The anguish she felt, the concerns about their future—all of it was swept away by three simple words. Sofiya looped one arm around Venus’ neck, the other going down to her waist.
When their lips met, there was no explosion of magic or flames of passion to burn the rest of the world down. Such events were best saved for Venus’ stories.
But they would make this one real anyway, starting with a kiss.