The Vampire & Her Witch

"It’s true that I’m strong enough," Nyrielle acknowledged. "But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t need to be there. "Tonight is her victory, and yours as well I suppose, since you defeated Lord Ritchel and his guards. Tomorrow, we must settle matters before we can leave, and her voice must be heard."

"Why? Why does she have to speak?" Talauia asked. "You’re her ’Mistress’ aren’t you? Auntie Ashlynn says that she’s like your wife, that forming a pact with you was like marrying you. So if you’re married to her then you know what she wants. You know what she’d say," the agitated witch said, each word coming faster and faster than the one before it.

"So honor her," Talauia said, folding her arms across her chest. "If you’re married, then honor the woman you married by saying whatever she would say instead of what you want to say. Speak in her place while she goes to get healed!"

Behind her, Virve stood open mouthed in shock, unable to comprehend the audacity of the Thistle Witch to chastise Lady Nyrielle, especially the way she had. For a moment, she’d reached out to pull Talauia back, but once the hovering witch started talking about Ashlynn and Lady Nyrielle being married, she was afraid that if she interrupted, it would only make things worse and so her hand hovered in the air almost entirely forgotten as Virve tried to figure out how she could save the Thistle Witch from her own actions.

Ignatious, on the other hand, was far too familiar with the kind of grief and anxiety that gripped people when their loved ones lay injured in the healer’s tent. He’d seen it from brothers in arms during the war, from mothers fretting over their husbands and fathers lashing out with threats of bloody murder for whoever had hurt their sons. And now, seeing that same uncontrolled outpouring from the Thistle Witch told him everything he needed to know about how important Ashlynn was to the older witch.

"Madame Talauai," Ignatious said calmly, giving Heila’s hand a soothing squeeze as he spoke before Nyrielle could respond. "Mistress Nyrielle loves Lady Ashlynn more than life itself. So if she needs Ashlynn here tomorrow night, before you scold her, you should ask her why. You both care for Lady Ashlynn, so let that be a bridge between you instead of a bone of contention."

"It seems my wayward progeny has remembered that he’s a priest," Nyrielle said, taking a deep breath in the moment that Ignatious had given her and forcing herself to respond calmly. Without realizing it, her hands had already elongated into sharp claws, and she’d been ready to put the Thistle Witch in her place with the simple act of superior strength that she seemed to feel would be so effective.

But Ignatious was right. They both cared for Ashlynn, and it was hard to blame the agitated witch for trying to do the best she could to heal the person they both cared for.