Silence filled the grand hall for a long moment, with only the sound of steam filling the air.

  Isolde’s eyes soon flicked from me to Ragna and back again, as if measuring something in the space between us. “I wanted us all three here because it would feel wrong to say any of this to one of you without the other,” she said. “Especially you, Ragna.”

  Ragna tilted her head. “Why especially me?”

  “Because it concerns you,” Isolde said. “And Thorvyn. And me. Also because I didn’t want you to hear about it secondhand and decide I’d been… scheming.”

  Ragna watched her face for a long beat. Her playfulness dialed back, not gone, just quieter. “You sound like you’re about to confess that you’ve stolen a horse,” she said.

  “In some circles, it might be seen as worse,” Isolde muttered.

  She straightened her back even more, which was impressive considering where she was sitting. Old training took over her tone for a moment, then faltered.

  “I…” she began, then stopped and closed her eyes briefly, as if sorting the words. “I like you, Ragna. A lot.”

  Ragna blinked, then nodded as if this matched something she’d already half-guessed. “Yeah, I like you too. You’re fun.”

  “Since the beginning,” Isolde went on. “When I met you in Seagard, you were… not like anyone I grew up around. You were loud, you ate like you were hungry, you swung that club around in a crowded inn without caring who frowned. You were strong and didn’t apologize for it. And you’re a Princess.”

  “That’s all true, yes,” Ragna said, clearly pleased.

  “In the court,” Isolde said, “girls were expected to be… careful and soft. They are told to keep their voices low and their anger hidden. I spent years pretending to like embroidery more than geography. When I went to Waybound, I met Zerina and realised… I… I like women more than any prince my father’s council paraded in front of me.”

  “Uh,” I blinked. I thought she had been just talking about liking in a very friendly sense.

  Her mouth turned into a wry line. “Come on, Thorvyn, don’t give me that look. It’s not as if I didn’t mind men attractive, but women were just better in my eyes. Father knew and treated it like a phase I would grow out of,” she said. “I didn’t.”

  “You and Zerina are that close?” Ragna asked. “Makes sense why Borric is a Marquis now.”

  Isolde flushed. “It’s not like that, I liked her that way but she didn’t… it hurt me when she admitted.”

  “That’s pretty sad,” Ragna said.

  “Then I met you,” Isolde continued, eyes back on Ragna’s face, and I recalled her smiles when she first saw Ragna, “and thought, if I weren’t already drowning in politics and dead fathers and cursed crowns, I would like to see what it feels like to… be close to someone like you.”

  “You had a crush,” Ragna summarized. “On me…”

  “Yes,” Isolde said simply. “I did.”

  “Did?” Even Ragna’s basic grammar caught the wording as she scowled. “No way, did you lose feelings? Now I’m hurt too.”

  Isolde winced. “They… changed,” she corrected. “I should have said that. You didn’t become any less yourself. It’s just that my heart decided to be foolish in more than one direction.”

  Uh oh.

  Her gaze slid toward me, almost against her will.

  “And he is… mostly to blame,” she said.

  “...Hello.”

  “That tracks,” Ragna realized how awkward I’d been and took hold of the conversation. “He has a talent for that, yeah, changing people’s perspective.”

  “I didn’t think I could feel this way about a man given the life I’ve led,” Isolde said to the air above my shoulder. “Most of the ones I met were… flashy smiles who only wanted me in their bed, or dangerous who wanted my Kingdom. They wanted my bloodline, my Crown, or the idea of a docile queen they could guide.”

  “I wanted not to die, and some gold as payment for my service,” I said. “The rest came later.”

  She smiled faintly. “Well, you argued with me when you thought I was wrong, but not in bad spirit, you never looked down on me. You risked your life for my people without asking what it would earn you. You carried my useless, poisoned self through a forest even when you were bleeding. You split my father’s chest open because he asked, and ultimately, you protected me from those thousand arrows. The list doesn’t end.”

  Her eyes met mine full on then, no flinching.

  “And yes,” she added, voice dipping, “you smell better than most men I’ve had to stand near. Like smoke and storms and metal, not cheap perfume. That’s attractive...”

  Ragna stayed quiet, not saying anything.

  “I’m not the one cataloguing scents,” I said, trying to ignore the uncomfortable warmth in my chest that wasn’t from the water.

  “I know both of you are close, perhaps lovers, so I nearly gave up. But my brother asked me to be bold. Thorvyn, you changed the way I look at… a lot of things,” Isolde said quietly, clearly nervous. “Including myself. Including what I thought I was allowed to feel. So I stand here in a bath that my ancestors built for empresses and admit that I my greedy heart likes you. Thorvyn, and you too, Ragna.”

  Silence sat with us for a heartbeat. The only sound was the constant, soft fall of water from the lion spouts.

  “I have watched you,” she said then, looking between Ragna and me. “The way you lean on his shoulder, Ragna, like it belongs to you. The way he checks where you are even in the middle of a fight. I know you’re not just comrades. It would be an insult to pretend I didn’t see it.”

  Ragna’s grin came back, slower. “Good,” she said. “I’d hate to have to bash honesty into you.”

  “Haah, to be honest,” Isolde said, voice very calm now in that way that only came when she was standing on the edge of something terrifying. “I don’t know why I’m saying all this. I just felt like I’d regret it if I didn’t. Don’t worry, we won’t speak of this after this bath, I’ll be your eternal ally and your friend and that will be enough.”

  Ragna watched her for a long moment. Then she looked at me. “My mother,” she said, “told him that if he ever left me, she would crack his skull and use it as a cup.”

  Isolde showed a sad smile and nodded. “That sounds exactly like a Valtherian Chieftain.”

  “But. She also told him that if other women were stubborn enough to follow him, that was his problem as long as he didn’t run,” Ragna continued. “She knew what he was even before he did. Strong men gather trouble. It’s how things are.”

  “That is one way to describe me,” I said. I loved how Ragna was handling this situation. I could too, but it was definitely better perceived if Ragna did the talk.

  “My point,” Ragna went on, “is that I grew up in a place where chiefs took whoever could keep up with them, and whoever could keep up with them fought off the rest. We don’t have the same ideas about ‘one man, one woman’ the way your priests talk about.”

  Isolde's eyes widened, as if surprised by the implications. “I…”

  “I love that you had this talk with me present. That tells me you’re not trying to steal anything,” Ragna said. “If I weren’t here, this Thorvyn might as well have jumped on you.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  She laughed, “I–”

  “I’m not done,” Ragna interpreted her. Her eyes sharpened a little. “Abandonment is a curse. I hate it. So if you’re doing this to get close to us, and steal Thorvyn from me… and if you ever try to use him like a toy or throw him away when it’s politically easier… I will drag you out to the cliffs and see how far the Crown can swim,” she added.

  “Ragna, Isolde isn’t that type of girl,” I said, but she shot me a look. I met her gaze. I then understood that she said what she said to see how Isolde would react, if she’d get angry at being threatened like that.

  Isolde met that without flinching. “I’d never do that to him, nor you, Ragna.”

  “Okay! Good. So then if he ever tries to pretend either of us doesn’t matter when we clearly do,” Ragna added, flicking water at my chest, “We should smack him on both sides of the head until sense comes back.”

  “Hey guys, I didn’t even agree,” I said. They both looked at me expectantly then, as if remembering I was in this conversation.

  Isolde and Ragna both looked surprised at my words. Isolde looked scared. The hope that had brightened her face was gone now, like someone had wiped light off her.

  Ragna recovered first.

  “What do you mean you didn’t agree?” she demanded. “You already kissed her.”

  That took be aback. “Uh, that was…”

  My eyes snapped to Isolde. How did Ragna know? It made no sense. She cleared her throat and looked away. “I may have… mentioned it,” she admitted, voice small. “To Ragna. Once. I wanted to know if I’d… overstepped.”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. “You couldn’t have told me you’d had that talk?”

  “She didn’t. Bastard. We’re girls. We talk. Why should we tell you? We nearly mated back in the inn, then you kissed her in her tent, and then you also kissed me on the rooftop,” she added, staring at me. “So unless your mouth works on its own, you’re already in this, Thorvyn.”

  “Terrifying,” I muttered.

  Ragna leaned back again, eyes glinting. “Yeah so stop acting like some poor little boy pushed between two scary women. We know what you are.”

  “Oh well…” I said. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag. It’s just… I can’t keep my hands to a single person when both of you are so close to me. I know it sounds bad but yeah.”

  In my defence, I hadn’t always been like this; it just became difficult to stay with one woman after the events that happened in my life. I guess I’m my father’s son after all. That man married a young girl my age after my mother’s death and I judged him for it, whereas I had lived a life of debauchery without ever settling down.

  I didn’t know why it was so difficult for me.

  Guess blood carried across dimensions.

  “It makes sense, you’re a Valtherian,” Ragna said with a shrug. That was a good excuse, actually.

  Isolde’s gaze flickered to me again, relaxing a lot. Her shoulders loosened a little. “Yes, that’s why I told Ragna instead of hiding it from her. Sorry. And well… this is awkward, but I’m glad we had this talk. If I hadn’t been brave, we wouldn’t have this connection.”

  Now that was entirely wrong. I shifted a little closer to her, letting the water move around my waist. “We kissed,” I reminded her, voice low. “It was a pretty emotional thing.”

  Her cheeks, already pink from the steam, managed another shade.

  “Yes,” she said. “I remember.”

  “It wasn’t nothing,” I said. “Not for me, at least. I’m not interested in acting like that was some fever that burned off now the sun’s up.”

  She looked a little confused at what I was getting at, crown glinting faintly above eyes that couldn’t quite meet mine. “Might be hypocritical of me,” I said, “but I don’t share my girls. Never. Not with some prince your council finds for you to marry to strengthen your borders, not with any hero the world throws in our path.”

  Ragna snorted. “So we’re ‘your girls’ now?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Unless you object.”

  She looked amused. “Object? I’ve been trying to get you to say exactly that for months.”

  Isolde’s breath hitched. “You…” she began, then stopped and tried again. “You’re very free with that claim.”

  “You’ve been mine since the moment we kissed,” I told her. No point dancing around it. “I just didn’t push given your political situation, when this stupid war threw so many undead and cultists at us, including your own father. So I planned to give you time to collect your emotions. And even if we didn’t have this talk, I’d have returned to your door a year from now, my name larger than the world, and claim you as mine. That was the plan. Even if you didn’t plan this bath talk.”

  “That’s… really?” she swallowed.

  Isolde’s hand had crept up to rest on her own temple, fingers just brushing the edge of the Crown. She looked at me with something new in her gaze. Relief, maybe. Or recognition.

  “I…” she said slowly. “I didn’t know you were so serious about me. I was afraid that if I said any of this out loud, I would put weight on you that you didn’t ask for. That you would feel trapped.”

  “I don’t feel trapped, Princess. Ah, wait, it’s Queen now.”

  Her laugh came out shaky. “That was not funny at all, Thorvyn.”

  “I’m surprised. You coming to me on your own?” I shook my head. “I’m glad you did. It’s nicer than having to chase you while you’re hiding behind politics.”

  Ragna snorted. “Please, you’d never catch her. She’d vanish into her tower and throw books at your head from the window.”

  Isolde elbowed her. “Traitor.”

  Ragna caught her arm and they slipped, sending a splash of hot water over both of us. Isolde squeaked and tried to push her away; Ragna responded by looping an arm around her middle and hauling her half off her seat.

  The Crown wobbled but didn’t fall. It was stuck to her head.

  “Careful,” I said, grabbing Isolde’s other arm on instinct and steadying her. The three of us ended up pressed closer in the confusion, half-tangled.

  “Ragna, stop it,” Isolde protested, wriggling. “You’ll drown me.”

  “You float,” Ragna said. “I checked.”

  “That is not reassuring,” Isolde snapped, which would have worked better if she hadn’t been laughing at the same time.

  “Stop tormenting her,” I said, tightening my grip on Ragna’s wrist under the water. “She just stripped her heart bare in front of two barbarians. That earns a little gentleness.”

  Ragna’s grin softened around the edges. “Fine,” she said. “But only because I like her.” I pulled Isolde close, her back against my chest. Skin brushed smooth skin. Isolde’s breath stuttered once, then settled.

  “Look at you, pulling her close,” Ragna said from beside us, eyes on me over Isolde’s shoulder. “That makes me curious.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “How long before you stop pretending you’re here only for the water?” she said. “Stop being so slow. I’m starting to get really annoyed.”

  I rolled my eyes and reached up, hand settling on the side of Isolde’s neck. Her pulse beat steady against my thumb. “This is foolish,” she whispered, looking up.

  “We have ourselves a genius.”

  “I think we should take it slow…”

  “We’re all very bad at lies tonight,” I said.

  She huffed something that might have been a yes in another language. I leaned down, my hand cupping her throat. Up close, her eyes weren’t just gold. There were flecks of softer color near the pupil, little hints of brown and green the court painters would never bother to catch. Droplets clung to her lashes and the curve of her cheek where steam had kissed her.

  I kissed her.

  She met me halfway, not as hesitant this time. Her fingers came up to grip my shoulder under the water, nails digging in just enough to remind me she wasn’t as fragile as she looked. The kiss went from careful to hungry in the space of a breath.

  Ragna made a small satisfied sound. “There it is,” she said, quieter than before.

  When we finally separated for air, Isolde was breathing hard, eyes bright and unfocused for a heartbeat. She looked from me to Ragna and then down at the water as if only just remembering where we were.

  “This is going to make council meetings… interesting… if they ever find out,” she murmured.

  “Good,” I said. “Maybe the nobles will pay attention for once.”

  She smiled despite herself, moving away from me. Ragna was done watching. Her hand reached for mine and I took it, fingers lacing automatically. She moved close, tilting her head and kissing the side of my neck, as my hands pulled her close. Isolde watched, half in wonder, half in something else. My left hand yanked her close.

  It stopped being a neat line and became a knot. Lips and laughter and the slide of skin under water. The Crown stayed on her head, catching lamplight every time she moved; it looked a little less lonely there.

  The peace of the water was soon broken with loud moans. One of the lion-head spouts gurgled as if in complaint. Steam wrapped around us, blurring edges until there was no court and no titles, just three people who had earned a brief, selfish piece of warmth.

  I hadn’t expected my first time in this new world and body to be a threesome, much less with a tall barbarian princess on one side and a curvy middle eastern queen on the other. Ragna treated it like another fight, it probably was, given the Valtherian culture. She was direct, laughing and grabbing what she wanted and daring me to keep up; Isolde started stiff and self-conscious, then burned through the hesitation with the same stubborn focus she’d brought to every spell and speech, learning as she went until she wasn’t following either of us so much as matching us beat for beat.

  Movies and TV Shows never did justice whenever superpowered individuals made out. Mantle of Valteria aside, who could have ever guessed my very first application of Aura would be on my flesh sword? Isolde outright passed out despite the Crown.

  When it ended after too many hours to count, the water had gone cooler and my limbs felt as if I’d run drills in full armor for hours. We ended up half-draped over one another on the submerged water, my back against the stone, Ragna sprawled against my right side with her head on my shoulder and one leg thrown over mine, Isolde tucked into my left with her face buried against my neck and the Crown tilted slightly askew on her damp hair.

  Steam curled in lazy trails above us, the lion-heads kept pouring hot water like indifferent sentries, and for a little while nothing occupied my thoughts.

  This was probably the strangest “battle” I’d been in since waking up in this world, and easily the best.

  If you want to read the next 10 chapters immediately including the end of Book 1 and start of Book 2, blink into my Patreon! Don’t forget to check out our Discord too, where you can hang out with us.

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