Chapter 07 - Friends II

Wherein two becomes three.

Luminsday came and Bosra joined Rose for a sit down at Paragon's Cup. She'd not taken a day off yet since starting work at the livery, but the Sovereign Knight who'd hired her to take care of Titan and his other three nags had left Splendor. There was a war brewing to the East, beyond the arid peaks and boggy planes of the dwarves that were King Adevald XII’s closest neighbours.

Titan had kept her busy. Good busy. Now there wasn’t much for her to do beside the normal chores. No reason to be at the livery all day. Many more patrons had left. War was good for business. All who’re invested in the conflict were leaving the city. Autumn was a good time for war, and a good time for selling wares to lonely soldiers, maybe making a deal with the stout-hearted bearded diggers – conniving merchants themselves, most of them.

Bosra sat outside in the lee of a tarpaulin that pulled at its bindings every now and then. It sheltered the café’s customers from the worst early fall winds. The tunes Rose played were familiar by now. Old friends, meeting again. If she closed her eyes she could see the farmstead, Risban, fields full of flowers, and herds of cattle drifting over that green sea, the Wold an ever present entity in the periphery.

When she opened her eyes again, she could tell she wasn't the only one. More and more people had sat down on the little terrace, or just inside the shop. There were a few urchins sitting on the roof high overhead.

Skilled, she thought, remembering what Rose had said about herself. Talented, was the word she'd mentioned with disdain. Magical; that was just common sense.

Valentina slipped into the seat next to Bosra, frothy milky brew in hand. "Hello again, I'm Valentina."

"Bosra."

"Just Bosra?" Valentina asked, eyeing the tattooed highlander up and down. There was something familiar about the nearly eight foot tall, grey-skinned, well-toned woman. Something she couldn't place. She was almost sure she was supposed to know who the woman was, but not remembering why.

"Yup. Got no other name that matters now." Bosra averted her gaze back to Rose, enchanted by the new tune the Pupper struck up.

"Alright..." Valentina put a stack of hard stock cards down on the table, akin in size to a deck of playing cards. "These just need your name, but you could use them to promote your monster training business."

"Thanks." Bosra took the stack. Looked over the topmost card. It was beautifully embossed with silvered letters. "You made them?"

"Had them made," Valentina corrected with a smile.

Bosra frowned. "What'd it cost?"

"I wouldn't know, honestly. The bill was sent to my father." Valentina had the decency to blush deeply. Breaking away from the habits that came with a life of privilege was more difficult than she’d imagined it would be.

Bosra slid the pile back to 'Tina. Turned her face back to the Pupper. "Ain't no charity case."

"It's not... It's not charity. It's a gift to my new friend." Valentina recovered quickly, if she did say so herself.

"Got no friends that wear thirty crown dresses as everyday wear." There was no meanness in Bosra’s brusque tone. She was merely pointing out the truth.  

"You do now." Valentina set her pretty jaw, sliding the little stack of cards back to the highlander.

Bosra looked Tina in the eye. The clear blue orbs reminded her of a meditation pool she’d once seen in a temple she’d raided with her crew. Shallow yet bottomless. She saw determination in those depths.

Her gaze went from Tina to the cards. "Okay."

She took the cards and put them in her pocket. She'd write her name on them later.

"If you're my friend,” Bosra ventured matter of factly, “no more gifts."

Valentina had just relaxed into her seat and lifted her cup. The motion halted. She blinked, then twisted to appraise the woman sitting next to her. Bringing gifts when you went to go see someone was a courtesy she'd grown up with. Even if it was only going over for tea at a friend’s. Although friends more loosely related to political allies in the Effyne family's case. Arch-Duke’s and -Duchesses had no companionable acquaintances in Valentina’s twenty three years of experience as their daughter.

Bosra’s expression did not suggest she’d been joking. The angular face held tension, even at rest, giving the woman an air of general animosity.

"Can I buy you coffee?" Valentina asked tentatively. A few drinks wouldn’t beggar her.   

"No." A quick shake of the head.

"Patisserie?"

"No." Bosra gave her a dark look, before her attention turned to the musician.

"Dinner?" Now she was just messing with Bosra.

First the grey face turned, dark eyes focusing in on her own. They narrowed further. Then she smiled. "No."

"Why not?" Valentina cocked her head, butter-blond hair falling to one side. 

"Expectations. Don’t want you to always pay. Don’t want to keep track of who pays what when."

“But you share with Rose, right?” Valentina tried not to feel slighted by this rejection.

“She’s not a princess with a frilly skirt, buying her way into my heart.” 

Valentina frowned. That wasn’t what she was doing, was it? 

To change subjects, she asked: "What are you interested in then? Or better yet, whom?"  Not that it mattered to her, but being curious about her new rough-edged friend 

Bosra grinned. "Big blokes, that make me feel pretty in a frilly skirt."

"Do those exist?!" Valentina could hardly imagine anyone being larger than this grey-skinned giantess, whose tattoos hardened the edges of her face, and contoured her bulging upper-arm muscles.

Bosra's laugh thundered through the alley like a rock slide. Once calmed she answered with a big smile: "Yes."

Then she turned her attention back to the Pupper, and was happy to find Tina doing the same.

Once again Rose joined them at the table for a brew when the evening rush started. She marvelled at how the interior had come into its own. It felt welcoming. It looked rustic. The mismatching sets of tables and chairs a design choice, if born out of necessity. The front room was white washed, light wood paneling rose to waist height. Paragon’s Cup was scrawled in big flowing letters on the wall opposite the seats. Customers passed it on their way to the serving counter.

The back room was dimmer. Gently glowing amber lit the den. Loveseats and sofa’s created cozy spots to lounge, against a backdrop of dark velvet drapes that muffled sound.

Remembering Bosra's express instructions, Valentina did not get Rose a cup of brew and a slice of cake. She let Rose get them for herself. Biting her lip she watched as Rose blew into the milky foam, the spice on top gathering at the crested waves.

She found herself at a loss for words. She kept herself from fidgeting – a lady didn’t give in to nervous tics – and could only relax when she noticed these two weren't expecting her to fill the silent void between them with babbling.

At once, all three of them broke the seal on being muted: "How was your day?" "Did you learn anything at school?" "What's for dinner?"

They laughed. Valentina laughed with them. For the first time in her life - since she could remember anyway - that sound felt real.