Two uploads in 24 hours? I guess I'll see you guys in 2018.

... Naaaah, I'm having fun. Let me know what you think. Too saucy?

It was past midnight by the time Rath declared a suitable location to pitch tents for the remainder of the night. Sain assisted the setup, but forewent any such luxury for himself since he was obligated for first watch. Rath shared the shift, but Sain was not so imprudent as to wholly trust one of Araphen's men—even if Rath made a believable claim to have defected. Kent would have his rank if he'd even suggested it.

Even the girls had only pitched one tent. Lyn was outspoken over Florina's fragile state and Serra doted officiously on her patient, so that the three of them were a package deal tonight. The canvas belonged to the cleric girl, larger and finer than most, but Sain wouldn't have thought they'd all fit inside. At least they would be warm, he mused. The night had grown chilly long ago. A small, flickering fire danced within poking distance at his feet, the sort that didn't throw light beyond hearing distance. Not in young growth like this. Sain leaned in to cup his hands over the flame frequently to ward off the cold.

A lumpy shadow moved in the dark, too close to have originated from outside the tight camp. Sain frowned as he identified the figure by height and hair. She was bundled in a blanket clutched tightly around her shoulders.

"Amberyl? I thought you were in there with the others. You must be freezing."

"I am m-moderately cold, yes."

"Saints. Let me build up the fire." Irritation flashed through him. Couldn't Lyn or Serra spare a thought for Amberyl, even if she wasn't injured? "Wasn't there room for you with the others?"

"Its fine," Amberyl assured him through clicking teeth. "I just wanted to talk with y-you."

Sain tossed a larger portion of kindling on the fire than he should have. "Take my cloak."

"I said I'm fine," Amberyl repeated more firmly. "I told L-Lyn I would sleep b-by the fire."

Just like when he'd questioned her about that bruised eye, Sain mused. She was the type to cover an embarrassment with a white lie, but he preferred to believe her rather than assume Lyn had left her to catch cold on purpose.

"Am I to believe you waited an hour before approaching me?"

"I dozed off while waiting t-to make sure everyone was asleep."

"Oh?" That, at least, sounded plausible. "A private conversation, then? Come here!"

Sain made a gap for her to cuddle up against him. Amberyl hesitated, but she skirted the fire and, after a moment's further indecision, unwrapped her cloak and blanket to spread over the both of them as she settled between his thighs with her back against his chest. Given her reluctance, Sain sensed that this private conversation was not drifting towards the direction he had thought it might, but her warmth was a welcome replacement for the fire nonetheless. He encircled her loosely rather than massaging her body to warm her up, since it seemed the cold had been the driving factor in her coming to his grasp and the rubbing might be misinterpreted. Between him and the fire, she would thaw quickly enough.

"So, what did you wish to discuss?"

Between the small cold-tremors wracking her body, Sain sensed her tense up. He wasn't sure what he was expecting at this point, besides something which apparently weighed very heavily on her soul. Then her fingers dug painfully into his thigh, eliciting a surprised grunt.

"Sain, do you even remember storming out of-f-Florina's room after swearing at me and shaking me and telling me I insulted you? Because you're being awf-fully nonchalant about this."

Sain choked.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Of course Sain remembered. He'd relegated the scene to the back of his mind, having been preoccupied with the very real danger to them all, but it came back to him now. She'd teased him beyond his own control, inflaming his senses with her responsiveness, only to play coy over a very thinly veiled distress he was sure he'd somehow caused.

"You're good at keeping secrets," Sain said carefully. "I thought to provoke you into admitting what had—ah, turned you off so quickly."

"Turned me off?"

"Well, we were getting on so well, until—"

"Yes, Sain. I remember. I was there." She sounded mortified. "Well, it worked. I shouted at you and called you a faithless philanderer."

"You may have insinuated such a thing," Sain admitted.

"And you're—not mad about that anymore?" Amberyl asked hesitantly. "You seemed to take it quite personally at the time."

"Oh, the devil!" Sain cursed. "Amberyl, I was insulted, but only as a fool takes insult. You weren't exactly wrong."

"I wasn't?" Amberyl twisted to squint up at him. "Do you want to clarify that?"

Sain swatted her thigh. "Don't give me that look, minx. I mean, you weren't wrong in that I should have told you that I would be faithful. Of course I would be—will be!—but you deserved to hear the words."

"Oh." Amberyl relaxed, turning back to the fire. It had grown larger with the kindling, and between the flame and his own warmth, she had stopped shivering. She wriggled down with a sigh, suddenly seeming much more comfortable than a minute ago. Sain, on the other hand, grew proportionately less comfortable. Saints, did she do that on purpose? His body was responding to her in a way he didn't think she was looking to inspire. Not at the moment, anyway.

"I'm sorry for shaking you," Sain touched her arm where he'd gripped her before. It had been a light shake, the sort used to get one's attention, not inflict harm, but he had man-handled her nonetheless.

"I'm not fragile, Sain," Amberyl yawned. "It didn't bother me, other than that I thought you were mad."

"Even so—"

"Tell me again," she murmured. Her hand, which had been resting on his thigh since she'd clawed him, began to move in small circles. Her touch was light and almost ticklish, but it was also definitely distracting.

"Tell you what?"

"That you'll be faithful to me."

Sain could feel her mood shifting. She moved against him, ever so slightly, and her voice grew husky. Sain's mouth ran dry. On the one hand, he found Amberyl's behavior wildly unpredictable. On the other, there was a certain sense in which she was very predictable. He'd never had a woman so blatantly interested in having her way with him. It would have been amusing if it wasn't so arousing. He tightened his jaw, knowing this would fan the flames, but unable to deny Amberyl her request.

"Of course I'll be faithful to you, so long as you shall have me."

Amberyl's fingers flexed against him as if an uncontrollable response to his words had passed through her. Then she leveraged herself a little higher, half-turning.

"I'm glad," she whispered, brushing her lips against his chin. Then, surprisingly—disappointingly!—she leaned into him with a small, tired sigh and grew still.

"Vixen," Sain groaned. "Minx!"

"I can't seduce you while you're on watch," Amberyl mourned. "Kent has turned a blind eye towards us so far, but if my wicked wiles come between yourself and good order and discipline—"

"I grow to dislike those words more each day," Sain muttered. His hands twitched treacherously towards her womanly curves. He stopped them with effort.

"There could be bandits nearby. Or Araphen's men. Wild animals."

"My dear girl, one would think you don't want me to make passionate love to you."

Amberyl whimpered.

"No, I'm sorry! That was unworthy of me!" Sain stroked her cheek, laughing. "Saints, what a pair we make. I'll tell you what, I'll ravish you tomorrow, when I'm not on watch! Order and discipline be damned."

"I'll count the hours," Amberyl whispered. "I suppose I should go sleep somewhere else."

"Stay! You'll freeze if you go back to that forsaken patch of dirt."

Sain should have let her escape while the escaping was good, but she was liable to catch cold if she removed herself from his hold by the fire. They may as well suffer together. Besides, he liked the feel of her soft body draped over his. That is, until she continued to squirm in search of comfort.

"Amberyl, I implore you—"

"Sain, is that—are you—?" She regarded him from beneath lowered lashes, her cheeks flushing prettily, visible even in the low light of the fire.

"I'm afraid so. I said I was on watch, not that I'm dead," Sain answered dryly.

"Should I… move?"

The sheer reluctance in her voice had him trembling with suppressed mirth. A horrible, sadistic amusement at his own expense.

"Is it tomorrow yet?" he rasped.

"Technically, yes," Amberyl grinned impishly, wriggling her hips in a clearly deliberate manner this time. Sain firmly repositioned her himself, depositing her back in that lean-your-back-up-against-my-chest configuration that had nothing to do with the way her derriere nestled up against his crotch.

"There. Do not move."

"Hmm." Amberyl promptly disobeyed, but arguably to remove the small rock she tossed out from beneath their blanket. "I like a man who takes charge."

"Then let's change the subject before we both expire, shall we?"

"You had better think of something, then. I tried to go to sleep. I can't be held responsible for my actions."

"This is familiar," Sain murmured.

"With a clever role reversal, I know. I've become a wanton woman, thanks to you."

"Talk to me about this Matthew fellow," Sain riposted, valiantly trying to follow his own advice. "What do you think of him?"

"Matthew?" Amberyl hmm'd thoughtfully. "Well, he's apparently a merchant. That much Wil and I verified."

"You don't sound convinced."

"He must be a spy. I don't care if he is in the market. He's incredibly sly. You saw how he got us out of the castle. You saw the number of other people involved in getting us out. Oh—or maybe you didn't? But I did. There were way more than six, and I feel like he didn't make those connections while selling beans."

"You're probably right."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"You're the one who hired him," Sain pointed out blandly, suffering Amberyl's punishing nails once again for his impudence. "You said he had a connection with Hausen?"

"That's what he claims, but we have no way of knowing if that's true or not."

"He helped us escape from Araphen. That's a credit in his favor, isn't it?"

"Yes. I had worried that maybe Matthew tricked us by playing off our suspicions, that Araphen didn't mean Lyn any harm. It was on his word that we escaped the castle believing that we were fleeing an enemy. If it wasn't for Rath—I would still be afraid to trust him."

"And you trust Rath?"

"How can I not? His eyes are disgustingly pure. And he's a nomad."

"And nomads never lie?"

"Not the people of Sacae."

"Hmm."

"Now you don't sound convinced."

"Everyone lies."

"That may be true, but he wasn't lying about this."

"Is that so?" Sain didn't need to wonder about Rath's integrity, at least in regards to his testimony against Araphen. He'd seen firsthand Marquess Araphen's disdain for Lyndis. But Amberyl hadn't, which made him wonder why she was so sure of Rath's trustworthiness. He would be disappointed to hear that she reached her conclusion from his lineage alone. There were many historical examples of wicked folk spawning from righteous parents. Honesty was not a hereditary trait.

"Yes. I think he's in love with Lyn."

"What?" Sain loosed his grip after another sharp dig in his thigh advised him that he'd squeezed her belly with his reflexive surprise.

"You didn't notice?"

"What's to notice?" Sain demanded. "He's been with us for a mere handful of hours!"

"It's in the way he looks at her. I can tell at a glance. It's the same—Err. Never mind."

Sain fancied he knew what she was going to say. Best she not voice any opinions about the way Kent looked at Lyn, so that they could both pretend it wasn't happening. Sain worried for his friend on that front. He'd assumed Kent could handle escorting their lady-lord a few weeks without falling under her spell, but now he wasn't so sure. Lyndis was everything a noble knight could desire. She could have easily captured Sain's heart, as well, but then this little siren had answered his call. There wasn't a female alive who wasn't cast at least partly to shade by Lyndis's beauty, but Amberyl was exquisite in her own right—and her sultry smile was certainly more exciting than Lyndis's gracious one.

"I don't know that Hausen would approve of another Sacaen prince in the family."

"He couldn't stop his own daughter. What could he do about Lyndis's choice? They're her people."

Sain sighed into her hair. She was right, of course, but he'd rather see Lyndis restored to Caelin permanently. The thought of her merely stopping in to meet with her grandfather, fully intending to depart straight back to Sacae was depressing. He couldn't see her making that choice—certainly not if Hausen was in ill health—but Sain had noticed Lyndis staring into the distance at odd moments. He'd thought perhaps she was looking forward to reaching Caelin, or worrying about confronting Lundgren when she got there, but it occurred to him now that she may also be reminiscing about home she had left behind.

"I trust Rath to be on Lyn's side, and I trust Matthew to not betray us to Araphen."

"That's not a bad start, I suppose."

"It's not that I expect him to betray us," Amberyl clarified. "I just can't read him yet. He's shifty. I like him, and I want to trust him, but that makes me more hesitant. Does that make any sense?"

"No, but I'll keep an eye on the fellow anyway."

"I'd feel better if you did."

They lapsed into silence, and very quickly Amberyl's head lolled to the side. She started awake twice, but didn't leave him until dawn.

... Or not quite saucy enough!?