RFC-Mini Arc 4: Night Life-06 (Patreon)

Her eyes move to the other passengers, looking for allies. Unfortunately, they seem just as interested in the conversation, watching her with anticipation. She sighs deeply. “Someone strong and righteous, with a noble heart. Someone who smiles often and has good humor. Someone competent. Family doesn’t matter much but—”

“No, no, no! Everyone wants a living saint for a partner, we get that. I want to know the important stuff! Do you want someone taller than you or shorter?”

“What? It doesn’t matter.”

“It does! For example, kissing! Being the taller partner gives you a lot of leverage.”

“Lou!”

“No, stay with me. It’s a lot harder to be on top when you’ve got to stand on your toes while making out. You’re starting at a disadvantage. There’s a few powerplays you can use to turn the tables and it’s extra satisfying as they probably won’t expect it but you’re not the cunning type so I’m afraid you might get bullied. Which might be good?”

“It’s not!”

“Yeah, I didn’t take you for the type. So, smaller partner? I know the bards like to sing about the ‘tall and handsome’ type but there’s nothing wrong with going for cute. I’d prefer that over macho muscle poles covered in too much hair.” Back when I was lamenting my eventual arranged marriage, I wondered if I might be able to endure if I was matched with a thin, petite man with smooth skin and long hair. No, of course, but I thought about it. Beautiful is not a description that is solely owned by women.

“I don’t care about height,” Alana gripes. “Can you leave it alone?”

“You’re right. More important things.” I clap my hands. “Caveman or gentleman?” She gives me a look that says she’s lost. “You know. Do you want someone rough or well-groomed? Someone who slings curses or recites poetry? Savage charm or well-groomed beauty?”

“A gentleman. Why would anyone want a savage?”

“Kierra’s a savage.” I scoff at the look she gives me. “When I met her, she was living in a tree, in a forest, surrounded by monsters. She hunted and butchered her own meat. She slept on furs and had skulls hanging on the walls. I do not joke,” I add, meeting the other disbelieving gazes.

“Really?” Alana shows some interest. “She doesn’t seem…”

“Oh, she can dress up well but don’t let it fool you. She’s as wild as they come. She bites. Hard.”

“And then you go right back to telling me things I don’t need to know!” she shouts. But then her look turns contemplative. “Why would she even…”

“Oh? Curious?”

“No, dammit. I didn’t ask.”

“But you—”

“I didn’t ask!”

I hold up my hands in surrender as she looks one more word away from beating me. “Okay, fine. Last question. Alright? I swear.”

The blonde huffs. “Fine.”

“What’s the minimum size they’ve got to be? You know.” I gesture to my crotch while she sits in stunned silence. “Now, it’s been thoroughly explained to me that it’s all about how you use it but there is an argument to be made for size—” I yelp as Alana attacks me. Her fists feel like little balls of fluff as they land but I obediently feign distress, leaning backward and cowering against Geneva. “I’m sorry! I was just asking!”

“Saints damned pervert!” She wails on me for a good minute before she’s satisfied, sitting down while crossing her arms petulantly. The entire time, Maxine and Cloud are laughing at us, the latter with loud, cheerful guffaws while the former giggles behind a hand.

I smile at them. “It was a fair question, eh?”

Maxine grins. “When it comes to marriage, I am more interested in a partner’s financial assets than their physical ones. Oh, I suppose I would like to fall for a handsome and loving gentleman too. Certainly not one of the old men who’ve approached me for a slice of my father’s fortune.”

“What about you? You got a size preference?” I ignore Alana’s huff.

The merchant flushes prettily and I’m reminded that she’s quite the beauty. “Really. How would I know about such things?”

Ah, a pure princess isn’t bad. At least she’s not a violent princess like my best friend, but I don’t hate women with a temper. “What about you, Cloud?”

“I prefer them strong and hung like a horse.”

The whole carriage gapes at her with wide eyes. She gives us a toothy smile. “The Temple emulates our earthly brothers and sisters. The men are not ones for gentle caresses and sweet words. They take their women on their knees. If all they have is one trick, best they do it well.”

“Well.” This girl is blunt. To a degree many would find it uncomfortable.

“The gentle ways are done between women,” she continues, staring right at me.

So, she goes for both genders? One of these days, I’m going to have to sit her down and have her explain the culture of the Temple to me. And if that wasn’t an invitation, my last name isn’t Tome. “Hey, Maxine. Switch seats with me.”

“Not in the carriage!” Alana barks. “There are other people here who don’t want to see that. At least wait until you’re home, degenerate.”

Cloud licks her lips, purposely raking her eyes over me. I swallow, caught between the desire to respond and the desire to please my friend. “So, um, is that common at the Temple?”

“What?”

“Women and women.”

She chuckles. “Many of the Temple travel from the Sanctuary. A partner can be left on their own for weeks, months, or even years. Therefore, it is not uncommon that people will seek each other for…warmth. However, men tend to be territorial. It is much easier on their egos if their wives seek out the other wives for comfort.”

It’s recreational!? “How do you feel about a sleepover?” There should be no harm spending a weekend with her. No, I don’t have any bad intentions. It’d just be interesting to learn more about such interesting people. Really.

“You’re always welcome, honored sister. As long as you don’t mind sharing a bed. I’d never make a guest sleep on the floor.”

“I’m sure we can fit.”

“It’ll be a bit…cramped.”

Hah, do you think this is enough to make me lose my cool? I’m tempted by succubi every day. “Closer the better.”

“I’ll be sure to show you everything the Temple has to offer.”

“Oh? I look forward to whatever you think you can teach me.”

“Saints save me,” Alana groans, knocking her head against the wall.