There was little said between the two of them on the way back down the mountain. Varga hadn’t cleaned his blade before returning it to its sheath.
Samia wasn’t sure what to say, how to break the ice.
It was a clear night, the stars in sight, the air cold.
“It seemed you were enjoying yourself,” Varga said. “When I first arrived.”
It hurt, hurt like he’d stabbed or slashed her with his sabre. “It wasn’t like that, Varga, please.”
“Save it. I have a bath and food prepared for you.”
“Please.” She tried to grab his wrist, but he pushed her hand away.
He stopped for a moment, putting his hands over his head. “How could I be so stupid, Selena. I really thought you loved me.” He looked into her eyes with fierce determination.
“I… I do love you, Varga. Why do you think you won the duel. I did everything we said this morning.”
“I wonder how many other men you have loved? Or made love to, Selena. Or should I call you Samia. I don’t even know who you are. All I have is the idea of you. The innocent girl I longed for all those years ago. The girl I pined for when you left, when I had no idea where you went. It seems that girl is long gone, if she ever existed at all.”
“Varga, please. I-” Samia stopped, but he continued to walk. She cried, putting her hands over her face, to cover her shame, to think about what had happened in recent months and weeks.
Perhaps what he was saying was true. She had enjoyed the sex with Frost, or at least parts of it. But she loved him, she really did. Or maybe part of her did.
As they reached the base of the mountain and the city of Jocia, Varga waited for her.
“I must go,” he said. “I have duties to attend to.”
“But-”
“Don’t worry about your sentence. You won’t have to go up the mountain again. You can remain in my quarters for the rest of it. You can’t leave the city yet, you must wait until the end of your sentence. You’ll have to present yourself to the judge on the eighth day.”
“I’m sorry, Varga. I really am.” She cried, looking at him through teary eyes.
“Spare it, Samia.”
She knelt before him, looking up at his face. “Please, stay with me. I need you.”
“You don’t need me.” He look down with a cold stare. “All you need is someone with a hard cock.”
That one stung, stung more than the sabre had stung Frost. Her watery eyes lowered to the cobbled street of Jocia.
“Everything I said last night,” she whispered. “And this morning. I meant it. I promise, I’m not a slut. I’ll show that to you, some day.”
Varga let out an audible gulp, then turned and left.
"If you ever loved me," Samia said as he walked away. "Meet me at the Horse and Carriage in Octoton."
