Victoria and Tybalt walked uphill, their chaperone and bodyguard Kistana trailing well behind.

  Perhaps it was the necromancer’s imagination, but he thought that Victoria was pulling him with noticeably more enthusiasm than she had been before he told her to take him somewhere that was special to her.

  “So, are you going to give me a hint where we’re going?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied, smiling more openly now. “I’d be happy to tell you about the places we pass, but the destination is a surprise.”

  “All right. But first, tell me about yourself, Vicky.”

  They were walking, he noticed, right along the same path that he and Mariella took whenever they went to have sex outside by the stream. Tybalt quietly hoped this was not some well-trodden route that every beastfolk on the mountain used.

  “Well, you’ve spent a little bit of time around me now,” Victoria said. “What stood out?”

  Deflecting a question with another question. Hm.

  “You’re quiet,” he said. “I had to get you alone to get you to say more than a few words to me at a time.”

  She kept silent and waited for more.

  “You’re hard working. Diplomatic. Intelligent. Beautiful.”

  Vidalia had pointed this out to him at some point in the past, but Victoria was identical to the seer with the minor exception that she had a slightly curvier body. Both foxgirls were beautiful, but Victoria would turn more heads.

  “Waiting to mention the thing men prize the most was clever of you,” she said. “Should I say ‘diplomatic’?”

  She’s not just smart. She’s kind of witty.

  “What, are you saying all of us men are the same?” Before she could answer, he continued, “Now I want you to tell me things I don’t know. So I can start to understand you properly, instead of being distracted by the pretty face.”

  Victoria snorted but did not look displeased at his remarks. Her expression grew serious as she resumed talking. “Well, our parents died not that long after Vida got her powers. A little over a year, I think.”

  She’s being deliberately hazy as to the timeline. I’m pretty sure this is something she has a very sharp, clear, painful memory about. Better not ask her about it anytime soon. But I can’t help wondering if this girl has a lot of secrets or if she’s just extremely reserved.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “It sounded like it still hurts.”

  She swallowed, took a long pause, and slowed her walking down a bit. They were almost to Tybalt and Mariella’s spot, which made the decreased pace feel a little awkward. The necromancer didn’t want to think about other women while he was out with Victoria.

  “Sometimes I think about it,” Victoria said finally. “Not often. I think it was harder on Vida.”

  “It’s sweet how protective you are of her,” Tybalt said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was your little sister, not your twin.”

  Victoria smiled again. “Believe it or not, she actually came out of the womb first. According to our parents, I was born clutching her tail. Using her to guide me out. I’ve been following her lead ever since.”

  “Is that how you see yourself?”

  “That’s how it is. I try to be honest with myself.”

  “Forgive my language, but that’s a load of shit,” the necromancer said.

  She frowned. “You think you know my relationship with my sister better than I do? After staying with us for a few days?”

  “No, I think you’re an adult woman who makes her own decisions. For instance, Andric has been courting you for months, and Vidalia clearly has no interest in him. That means you’re the one who decided not to shut that door.”

  That stunned her for a moment. She must have been wondering if Vidalia had told him that. But the necromancer didn’t need something so simple to be explained to him.

  “You’re making me sound- ”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. I respect it. You’re being cautious. Practical. You’re…”

  He thought, but didn’t want to say, You’re like me. Probably more like me than Vidalia or Mariella. But as he recognized that, he knew how he wanted to approach this conversation.

  “You’re an adult,” he said after a few seconds. “A real adult. The adult in the family. Even more than your uncle, I’d wager.”

  She still looked a little taken aback for a moment, but she quickly gathered herself and replied, “That’s the most flattering way I’ve ever heard of telling me I’m the boring sister. I’ll have to remember that. ‘The adult in the family.’ You’re very good, Tybalt. I bet the women where you came from loved the way you talk.”

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  He sighed. “No, you’re not the boring sister. You’re the one who, if we grew up in the same village and there was no magic…” He hesitated. He was about to say something he couldn’t un-say, and he was a little uncomfortable with it. She seemed to sense it and looked at him curiously out of the corner of one eye.

  “You’re the one who I’d probably pursue,” he finished. She raised an eyebrow. “You’re the type I can see myself arguing with but not getting angry at. At least not for very long. The one who would help me actually keep a household together. The one who… I already listed the qualities I noticed, and I’m not going to stand here and flatter you. Just know, those are the things that many lasting marriages are made of.” He finished a little annoyed with himself and at her for not interrupting as he said more than he wanted to say.

  She was quiet for several seconds, processing. She was clearly trying to keep her face neutral, but he could see a smile tugging at one corner of her lips. The necromancer noticed that they passed by the place by the stream where he and Mariella liked to go, and Victoria continued leading the way uphill, along the stream. The trees on the mountain grew thicker, and the walk proceeded more slowly as the gradient slightly increased.

  “That’s a sweet sentiment that this alternative version of Tybalt has, in the world without magic,” she said. The words sounded like they ought to have been sarcastic, but her tone was sincere. “But I couldn’t help but notice that they applied to a hypothetical reality. What about in this world?”

  “This world?” Tybalt asked. He pointed at the ground. “This world here?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t see why we should concern ourselves with it. Why? Do you know something I don’t? Do we have to live here?”

  Victoria let out a little laugh, a genuine, unguarded, unfamiliar sound, before she stopped herself and shook her head.

  “Why are you making jokes?” she asked. “Isn’t this walk… supposed to be a chance for us to share our true selves and discover why we might or might not make a good match? I fail to see the relevance of humor to- ”

  “That is my true self,” Tybalt interrupted. “I’m sharing it with you right now. If my terrible humor and sarcastic remarks spoil your day, then I regret to say we are not a good match. It was nice meeting you.”

  Victoria went quiet again for thirty seconds or so. She was very comfortable with her silences, the necromancer noticed. He appreciated a good silence as much as anyone himself. But on an outing like this, it was death to momentum and atmosphere.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “Whether I can put up with the terrible humor,” she said, not looking at him, her voice completely deadpan. There was still only the hint of a smile in the corner of her lips. “Or if it will spoil my day.”

  She’s flirting now.

  Tybalt snorted. “Don’t worry, we’ll work on yours so you can keep up with me.”

  She clicked her tongue at him as if in disapproval, but the fingers she had been using to lead him by the hand noticeably tightened their grip.

  They went quiet again for a minute or so, but Tybalt judged it was more of a comfortable silence. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking.

  “There are salmon in this stream,” Victoria said out of nowhere. She pulled her hand from Tybalt’s and pointed. The necromancer saw the telltale shimmer of pink-orange-colored scales swimming against the current. “If you’re interested in fishing, this one is probably the best stream on the mountain. Although most of our fishermen go around that way to the ocean.” She gestured at a footpath that almost blended in with the nature around them.

  “Interesting. The stream Mariella and I saw on the way up the mountain ended in a waterfall into a little pool.”

  “There are multiple streams when there’s enough snowmelt, but this one flows almost all the time. Near the end of summer, sometimes it turns into a trickle…” She frowned.

  “The desert is a harsh place,” Tybalt said.

  “Yes,” Victoria agreed. “It has its appeal, though. There aren’t too many people, at least.”

  “Is that appealing?”

  “Being around other people is dangerous.” She shrugged as if she had said something obvious.

  Tybalt decided not to go down that path for the moment. He had spent a lot of time being that dangerous other person.

  “True enough,” he said. “Now tell me more about yourself. As much as I enjoy the tour, you’re more interesting to me than the natural environment. Also, where are we going?”

  “Does that actually work on anyone trying not to tell you something?” Victoria asked. “Distracting them, waiting a little while, and then just asking again?”

  “Less often than I’d like, more often than you’d think. So, more about you, then?”

  “I wish I was more interesting to better entertain you. I work with my hands, every day. Outside, usually on my hands and knees until my back aches. That’s me. It’s not exactly noble work, but it puts food on the table.”

  “I can relate,” Tybalt said.

  She looked at him curiously.

  “I worked my family’s plot until I joined the Army, probably around the same amount of time as you,” he explained.

  “Then how… Why do you sound so lighthearted? If you had the same experience, and I do seem to remember Vidalia mentioning it before… It hardens you, you lose hope that life will get better. You see other people doing the same thing, how they age prematurely.” She swallowed and tried to flatten her expression, which had drifted toward a look of despondency.

  “I’m not always like this,” Tybalt said. He took her hand in his again and looked her in the eyes. “I spent years clinging onto bitterness, fantasizing about the day when I’d have the power to take revenge on my father and his family.”

  “What changed?”

  “Not much. I still want revenge. I’m still bitter. But I also grew a bit. The humor is mostly a way to be more personable. Bitterness is an unpleasant face for a man to show the world. Unattractive.”

  Like you said, the women where I came from did like me… It wasn’t because of my angry ranting.

  “I’ve been showing you my ugly side, then.” It was spoken as a casual observation, no weight behind the words. She kept probing him, looking for something in his words, in his face. Tybalt could not put his finger on what.

  “Even if you were showing me an ugly side of yourself, a husband should know all parts of his wife.”

  That made her blush, which looked very pleasant.

  “But on a woman,” he continued, “that bitterness isn’t nearly as unpleasant as it is on a man. On a man, anger and hatred are threatening. On a woman, it’s more like a cry for help. One that, apparently, no one has heard.” He looked at her and saw she was looking at him intensely out of the corner of her eye. She averted her gaze as soon as his eyes met hers. “You’ve been carrying a heavy burden, and no one has tried to help you with it. Not truly. Ever since your parents died. Isn’t that right?”

  She nodded silently, almost helplessly.

  “Believe it or not, my story is a lot like yours. Working with your hands every day, watching helplessly as my mother sickened and died. No one lifted a finger for us. Then it was just me and my uncle and our pitiful little plot of land.”

  “That does sound a lot like me,” Victoria said, every word sounding as if it was spoken with reluctance. “But Tybalt… My bitterness, my fear, my hatred and resentment, a lot of it was directed toward you.”