They strolled a while longer through the grounds and then took tea in a secluded courtyard on the route back to her quarters. Riella desperately did not wish to return but did not complain. She was not a child and would not act like one, especially not in front of her future husband.

Asta had not budged an inch when they returned. There was a glint in her eyes that had Riella wondering if she knew exactly what had transpired in the hedge maze, but it was not possible. Her father had told her often that she could be read easier than a road sign. Was the kiss lingering on her skin for all to see?

Lord Montalli brushed his hand across her cheek gently as they said their goodbyes and she returned to her cage on her own two feet. Inside her heart there was a far smaller version of Riella who was kicking and screaming and needing to be dragged. When the door clunked shut behind her a hollow pain burrowed deep into her chest. She struggled to breath for a moment but fought the tears away. She did not want Asta to hear her being quite so pathetic. It was a room. A comfortable room. One she would eventually leave.

As the sun was setting, filling the small room with a golden glow, an abrupt knock drew Riella’s attention from her book to see Asta welcoming herself into her quarters.

“Your night guard is indisposed, so I will be staying until they send a replacement,” she said casually.

Riella perked up from her seat on her rug. “Oh, thank you.” She pulled herself up and dropped her book to her bed covers. “That’s very generous of you to give even more of your time.”

“It’s no bother to me, little lady.”

“I hope you are not too bored, Miss Asta,” Riella said, perhaps more coyly than she had intended to sound. She wished she had more opportunities to spend time with her handsome guard, for boredom relief only, of course.

“Given that I am only contracted for the daylight hours, I will be taking the opportunity to begin drinking while I wait for whichever idiot they send down here,” Asta responded with a barely hidden smile. Her eyes flashed with what might be taken for mischief in a less stern woman.

“Drinking?” Riella whispered, almost excitedly and partly with nerves. She approached the doorway where Asta stood, leaning her weight onto one side in a stance that jutted out her hip and took a few inches off her staggeringly tall frame.

“Have no fear, young damsel.” Asta chuckled quietly, Riella could only assume at her own innocence. Her throat warmed at how inexperienced she must seem to this hardened guard. “I never allow myself to get drunk. But a splash of wine here and there can liven a dull evening.”

“W-would you like to sit down while you do? You’re welcome to my table and chair.”

Despite pressing the door shut behind her, Asta countered, “If there’s only one chair, where will you sit?”

“On my bed? Or perhaps the floor, I like to sit on the rug when I read. It’s far more comfortable than it looks. Please don’t feel obliged to keep me company, though. I wouldn’t want to ruin your… wine.” Riella could not tell if she was rambling, the words simply would not stop.

Asta twisted her head back and forth, cracking her neck. Her face was pulled up by a curious grin that was utterly unlike the firm-faced woman. “Why don’t we share the rug?” she said slowly.

“Okay,” Riella said breathlessly, and lead the way back to the small multicoloured rug that sat at the foot of her bed.

She dropped as gracefully as she could to her knees, allowed her skirts to puff around her legs. Asta took a seat beside her, spreading her long legs out ahead of her and leaning back against the bed frame. She unhooked a soft flask-like item from her belt and pulled a cork from the top before taking a slow swig. The smell of wine tickled Riella’s nose but she said nothing.

Asta offered the wineskin, holding it over Riella’s lap carefully. Riella glanced at it, then up to Asta’s face.

“The doctor ordered me not to take any alcohol after my sickness,” she whispered. It was the first statement that popped into her mind.

“Are you a regular drinker?”

“No, I have never had anything.”

“Then I would not think one sip would do you too much harm. I promise it is better than the juices you love so much.”

Riella managed to flush even further but she held a trembling hand out for the wine skin. Asta uncorked it again and passed it over, an expectant twinkle in her eyes. Riella took the tiniest of mouthfuls, barely enough to cover her tongue, and winced as the sharp taste filled her mouth and nose. Maybe Asta had only ever experienced juice that had been left too long in its barrel if she thought this was better than the sweet drinks in the cellar. Even after she had swallowed, the after-taste clung to her mouth and throat. It tickled her breath whenever she sucked in. She looked to Asta in bewilderment and the older woman burst into wild cackles.

“Riella, you look utterly horrified,” she said through her bouts of laughter.

“That was awful!” Riella gasped out. “Why would you choose to drink that?”

“You are a grown woman with the drinking tastes of a child.” Asta teased gently. She corked the wine and put it aside, smiling to herself.

Riella laughed, too, then.

The warmth that hummed along the skin of her arms, chest and face could have been the single sip of wine she had endured. But Riella felt the culprit was far more likely to be the one who gave her the wine skin. Her tall and sturdy body sitting so close to Riella’s own. The kind of body that had you feeling overpowered before it had even touched you. The kind you secretly wished to be overpowered by.

Miss Asta glanced at her, raising her twice-scarred eyebrow in a silent question. Riella swallowed.

Their mouths fell together easily, the way a wave crashes onto the shore. Thoughtless and unconstrained. Soft but searching. Firm fingers dragged up the back of Riella’s neck and burrowed into her hair, gripping her tightly. Riella whimpered and let her own tinier hands curl into the collar of Asta’s undershirt. Asta growled approvingly into her mouth and it sent shivers down to Riella’s toes. She inched forward on her knees until she was climbing into Asta’s lap, their lips never disconnecting. One of the hands in her hair dropped to her waist and yanked her in even closer; Riella stumbled forward, falling chest to chest with the woman devouring her mouth. Luckily, Asta could hold both their weight and push her tongue against Riella’s simultaneously.

It was unclear how much time had swept by them when they heard the echo of stomping steps approaching the hallway, but Asta straightened instantly. Riella scrabbled from her lap and both women drew themselves up quickly into awkward standing positions. With a breathless glance between them, Asta slipped back outside in time to greet the temporary night guard.

Riella took the wine skin from the floor and placed it carefully on her table to return it the next morning, when she hoped she would feel less ashamed of what she had done.