Chapter 49: Not bad
Stefan’s POV
The group of warriors moved forward, their horses stepping into a steady rhythm on the hard road, and I wrapped both arms around Jonquil’s waist without asking permission this time.
I was confident I had earned that much trust the ’hard way’ over the last few days.
I was about easing into the relaxation mode by putting my head on her back when curiosity got the better of me a few minutes into the ride.
"Hey," I said, leaning forward to be close enough to her ear that I didn’t have to shout over the wind, "that warrior riding with Belladonna. What happened to her? Did she get won over?"
"No," Jonquil said, flat as ever, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. "One of the rogues took out her eyes and ate them."
I flinched. My mind pictured it more clearly than I wanted to and genuine sympathy hit me square in the chest.
"Damn. That is rough. Genuinely sorry to hear that." I shook my head slowly.
Then, because my brain apparently couldn’t resist an opening even in a moment that called for solemnity, I added, "I’m glad that didn’t happen to you, though. Because if it did, how would you even see me?"
Smooth. Absolutely smooth, if I said so myself.
Jonquil said absolutely nothing. Hrt back was still standing straight, her eyes still forward, like the words had bounced right off her and fallen somewhere on the road behind us.
Then the system brought a notification;
[JONQUIL’S CURRENT MOOD: Excited]
"Excited?" I blinked with disbelief, at the back of her unmoving head. This woman currently showing less feeling than a fence post, and somewhere underneath all that flat, unreadable calm, I was supposed to accept that she was apparently thrilled?
Interesting!
"How does anybody manage that," I muttered, shaking my head slowly. "Feeling something and just - not showing a single bit of it. That is a skill right there. Really."
That was when I noticed her hair again, whipping loose and wild around her face, the strands catching across her eyes and mouth with every gust of wind off the road. Usually she kept it pinned back tight, controlled, same as everything else about her.
"Why aren’t you tying your hair up?" I asked. "Like you usually do."
Her jaw tightened so hard that I could see it from the way her cheeks became stiff .
"One of the beasts cut off my knot along with my hair." She said.
Then her voice shifted, dropping into a more formal and clipped sound, each word sharp, like she was reading out a punishment instead of just cursing a dead animal.
"May the wretched creature’s spirit wander forever without form, denied even the dignity of teeth to gnaw its own shame with."
I actually barked out a laugh, loud enough that a warrior riding besides us glanced over briefly.
"Did you just curse a dead wolf’s ghost to wander forever without teeth because it messed up your hair? Okay, that is actually so incredible."
"It was disrespectful," Jonquil said sharply, entirely serious. There wasn’t a trace of humor in her voice.
"Okay, fine. No argument here. Justice was served. Forever wandering, no teeth. That’s a fitting punishment." I said, still grinning.
Seeing the hair at that moment, an idea struck before I had even fully thought it through. I reached forward and gathered the loose strands whipping around her face, my fingers working through the tangled mess.
"What are you doing?" Jonquil asked, her head tilting slightly, though she didn’t pull away.
"Stay still. Let me work." I had to shout out the words because I couldn’t lean over her anymore. I was already focused on the work at hand.
I split the hair into three uneven sections, best I could manage while I was bouncing along on horseback at speed, my fingers moving through a motion my hands still remembered even years later. Over one, under the next, pull tight, repeat.
Back when I was fourteen, broke as any orphan could be, sweeping hair off salon floors between high school and whatever cheap night classes I could scrape together money for, I had watched the stylists work a hundred times over, picking up more than just how to hold a broom.
I had never once imagined that scrap of teenage struggle would come back to help me on an alien planet, tangled in a beastwoman’s wind-whipped hair while riding at full speed.tangled in a beastwoman’s wind-whipped hair while riding at full speed.
"What are you doing back there?" Jonquil pressed again, clearly unable to see what my hands were up to behind her head.
"Braiding your hair. Just trust me." I said.
She went quiet, letting me work, even though her shoulders were held stiff and unsure, the way she always got around anything new.
I finished it off best I could without a proper tie, tucking the loose end back under the last fold and pressing it flat.
"There," I said, patting it once. "Now you can actually see the road. Hair won’t be smacking you in the mouth every five seconds either."
Jonquil reached up, her fingers brushing carefully along the braid, testing its hold, tracing the shape of it like she was trying to understand how it had happened.
"I am grateful," she said, quiet, something almost soft threading beneath the usual flat delivery.
The System chose that exact moment to chime in.
[PRIMARY MISSION COMPLETE: Do something romantic with Jonquil.]
[REWARD ISSUED: +100 EXP, +5 MA]
I blinked, genuinely caught off guard.
"Oh." A short laugh escaped me. "That was it? I wasn’t even trying for the mission that time."
[JONQUIL — STATS UPDATED:]
[Loyalty: +10%]
[Affection: +10%]
[Trust: +10%]
[Recruitment Progress: 65%]
Seeing that number, sixty-five percent - satisfaction spread warm through my chest despite the wind still cutting cold against my face.
"Yeah, not bad." I muttered to myself, tightening my arms around her waist as the horse picked up speed again.