"Well, my name is Diego," he says, voice warm. "Can I interest you in something to drink? I've been instructed at least twelve times to make sure anyone who visits is well-cared for.”
I smile, letting him guide me inside.
"I'd love that."
The tent is large, sturdy, stretched over a frame of bone and substantial wooden supports. The walls are made of cave bear skins, cured and stitched together, and their deep brown fur brushed smooth. The entrance flap is tied back, allowing the light from the glowing cavern crystals to enter and flicker against the armor displayed along the inner walls.
Diego moves with practiced ease, reaching for a clay vessel on the nearby table. He pours deep amber mead into two cups, the scent of honey and spice rising in the warm air.
"Work with old Flova in the forges?" I ask, tilting my head. “He’s a good craftsman. I’ve seen his work.”
He nods. "Yes. In Zlosa, I used to…" He trails off, his lips pressing together. "Well, that is something for another time."
His presence is solid behind me, warm, but not demanding. I turn, watching him carefully, and take the goblet from his hands before sipping. There’s something confident about him.
As Diego tells me about his family, I lean in, listening intently. His voice is warm, and his stories are full of vibrant colors. I'm shockedhow happy his life had been serving under the giants. He had a family that stayed together and a childhood of shared meals and kindness aside from the brutality of the giants.
I like imagining that. I smile when he does, nod when he speaks of his sister’s wedding shortly after coming to Enduvida, laugh softly when he shares a boyhood memory of mischief gone wrong.
It is nice to talk to someone without so much pressure finally.
Then, his voice dips, turning thoughtful.
“May I see your scroll?”
I pause, then oblige. This is the first time that’s happened. It is not easy to hand over a piece of paper that reduced all of me to a few simple answers.
“Let me know if you need help.” I’m not trying to be condescending, just… realistic.
He smiles, clearly not offended. Then begins to look. I fidget and let my gaze wander.
“A woman of wit, I see,” he says with a grin.
My smile softens, and I think of Vann. Those words he helped me come up with.
“I suppose so,” I respond, thinking about last night again. How nice it had been. It is good to be Vann’s friend.
Diego looks up with a smile. “I see you want to be a mother. I've always wanted children," he admits. "A family of my own. Someone to build a life with. Someone to share it with."
The words sink deep, lodging in my ribs and reminding me of the sad truth. I swallow, fingers curling against the fabric of my skirt.
I have heard this before. I have lived this before.
Well then, if there is no song with Diego, I should do us both a kindness and leave. My breath feels too tight in my chest, but I force a smile, nodding like nothing inside me has shifted. Like I don’t already know how this ends.
He reaches the bottom part, where I was meant to share a few thoughts about sexual compatibility. I included my preference for men, and then very lightly skimmed over some of the things I was still too nervous to share. Joso hadn’t liked some of my fantasies, and I worried that it wasn’t common in Enduvida.
Then he finishes reading my scroll and meets my gaze.
"Can I kiss you?"
I swallow. Am I ready for that? This doesn’t feel hollow to me. He is nice, and I like talking to him.
It is just a kiss.
“Yes,” I say with a nod.
He comes near. His lips hover over mine, waiting, before finally pressing against my skin. It is soft, chaste, fleeting. And when he pulls back, I feel…Nothing. No heat. No surge. No song.