She ran her hands through her short hair, enjoying the slip of the locks as they fell through her fingers.

“Mmm.” Brella came up behind her, wrapping her arms around Scratch’s waist. “I adore this haircut.”

“Well, it is your handiwork, after all.”

“I’m an artist, then.” Brella kissed her cheek. “And you owe me three crowns for the cut.”

Scratch couldn’t help but blush as she watched the two of them in the mirror, the low light turning Brella’s brown skin into oiled oak. Brella was so tall, strong and sturdy. Scratch shivered at her own smallness, the nigh-uncomfortable, yet inexplicably exciting idea of being delicate in her lover’s sure hands. She had never seen herself that way before, never wanted to. And yet . . .

“You make me want things I don’t understand,” Scratch breathed, feeling herself begin to tremble. In her reflection, her cheeks reddened further, and she turned her eyes away.

Brella’s small laugh was warm and wet on Scratch’s throat. “I feel the same way. I never thought I’d be so desperate for a soldier, of all people, that I’d want to drop to my knees on a tiled floor and have my way with her.”

“Mph,” Scratch squeaked, shocked and embarrassed and delighted all at once. “So you’ve changed your mind on the King’s Guard, then?”

“Absolutely not.” When Scratch turned back to the mirror, Brella’s reflection was serious, though a little smirk played at the seam of her full lips. “They can go to the infinite hells, the lot of them. The commanders especially.” Brella put a hand up Scratch’s shirt, warm and confident on her tensing belly. “I don’t see any soldiers here.”

“I could have asked her for that, you know,” Scratch mumbled, distracted by the path of Brella’s clever hand. “Frances. I could have told her I wanted a command.”

“Yes.” Brella sighed. Her hand stilled, to Scratch’s great disappointment. “I want you to be you, Scratch. I want you to have everything you want. You didn’t have much choice the first time around. Selfishly, I’m relieved you chose to try something different.” She buried her face in Scratch’s shoulder. “I know there will be fighting. More fighting, probably for a long while. At least, this time it’s fighting for something.”

“I thought I was fighting for something.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Brella squeezed her around the middle. “My opinion on the Guard hasn’t changed. But my opinion on the guards themselves . . .” Scratch felt her shrug. “I understand that it can be the best of few options. It was for you, at least. But can I say that the King’s Guard isn’t cruel, if what they perform is cruelty? I wonder how many of them would leave if they knew the destruction they’ve caused. I wonder how many know, and just don’t care.”