>>5603839“You said ‘our gods’. Do your people not worship the same deities?”
Ha! That is putting it mildly. You can’t exactly say which gods it is you DO worship… But then, as a Knight Ascendant, you are forbidden to deny or hie your faith from direct questioning, aren’t you? You cringe a little, and nod, trying your best to walk a fine line between denial and revelation.
“Our godsss encourage curiossity, exxxperimentation, courage… Thingsss my people, who cling to old waysss of doing thingsss and shun the new and different, often shrink away from in these ‘dark daysss’, as you call them,”
“My people do the same,” Ekaterine agrees, sadly.
“My patron in particular wishesss for usss to be bold, brave… Asss my anccessstor wass. In war, yesss, but alssso in other avenuesss!”
“Other avenues?” the princess asks.
You reach out, taking her hand again in yours, and move closer to her so that she cannot easily escape your presence, except by shoving you away—a fool’s errand, with your far greater size—or clambering awkwardly over the arm of the bench behind her. She does neither.
“Love,” you clarify. “Sssometimesss, love requiresss… Boldnesss, greater than war. Don’t you agree?”
The Princess of Hawksong looks up at you. Her breathing is hitched, held. Her eyes are wide, her lips part to form words which do not come.
You seize the moment.
>20You have never actually… KISSED before. Your regular facial anatomy doesn’t permit this form of affection, common to humanoids, but these last two years have provided you with many ‘firsts’. By her initial stiffness and awkwardness, you suspect that the Princess has little to no experience with the act, either… But before long, her arms are around you ,fingers clutching at your braided hair, and the two of you are doing a great deal of learning. It is… Not unpleasant. You are surprised when her tongue laps at your lips; your part in surprise, and before long your tongues are intertwined as well.
“I… Ah, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just—”
You silence the Princess, and reassure her, by interrupting to return the strange gesture of affection, with more-than-equal enthusiasm. Her yelp of surprise turns to a soft moan which rumbles through your jaws and down to your throat and chest; you growl back, a rumble which sets her to shivering. Your hands cannot feel her well, not through your armour, and you lament this, for the press of her slim-but-soft body to yours attests to a luxuriousness and warmth which stirs your <appetite>… And, for once, it does not pain you.
The Divine Mother’s blessing is with you.
