Henna'd Hearts by MB Austin

Author:MB Austin [Austin, MB]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MB Austin

I awoke alone at dusk, my bed empty and the room dim. Were it not for the lingering scent of pleasure in the sheets and the telling tracks of nails on my skin, I might have thought I dreamt our…reunion? No, re-discovery of one another. Not that I was done discovering Rilla’s secrets. If that one would let me, I would keep investigating until I had learned every way to please thon.

But where had Rilla gone? For a moment, I panicked. Fear and misunderstanding drove us apart once. What if Rilla had fled in remorse, off to thon’s hiding place up the dry creek bed? Where our people had left thon, alone and with no real instruction. Why had they?

To my relief, I found Rilla in the parlor again, exploring the wall of books. I stood in the archway silently observing as my dear one returned a leather-bound volume to its shelf and pulled out another. Flipping to a page with illustrations, Rilla glided long fingers over an image, humming softly and turning the book to catch the fading light from the patio.

“We have lamps that light with a twist of a knob,” I said, stepping to the wall and igniting the gas in one sconce. “Like your lanterns, but no smoke.”

“Why are there no gaslamps on your streets, then?” Rilla asked.

It was a good question, but not one I’d ever thought to ask. “I don’t know. Let’s ask someone at supper. Unless you were in earnest about taking all our meals in?”

Rilla shut the book and sighed. “I suppose you have friends and relations you need to see. Must I share you?”

I almost relented right then, too delighted by half. “As tempted as I am to spend my week alone within these walls with only you, there are other people I must visit. You could join me.”

Rilla shook thon’s head. “Today was pure luck. Vitrine is an artist, uninhibited by the rules everyone else must live by. I should have known by thon’s attire.”

“Vitrine dresses like that every day,” I said. “A uniform of sorts, now I think on it. Ha. Always that voluminous hair swept up and pinned to the top of thon’s head. Always skirts that obscure those impossibly long, spindly legs. And always, even in winter, bare arms. Vitrine says sleeves interfere with handling the findings for the lovely jewelry thon fashions. And to show off thon’s latest necklaces and earrings to best advantage, as I do insist. What was Vitrine modeling this morning?”

“Nothing,” Rilla said. “Bare ears, bare shoulders. But more to the point, nothing but skin and bones under that corset. And I’ll wager Vitrine has a sweetheart with a beard.”

“Well, from time to time.” Vitrine kept thon’s own face smooth, but quite vocally admired a neatly trimmed beard on others. “But every person develops specific tastes over time. Not just artists.”

Rilla growled in frustration. “Are you being intentionally obtuse? Vitrine is a…why don’t you have these words in your Lingua?”

“Try English,” I suggested. “Or Romani, if it has the word you mean.

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