Between Wyn’s advice and a full night of sleep, Linza determined that what she wanted to do was ask the madame for her advice. If the madame advised her to avoid workplace relationships altogether, then Linza would have a plausible excuse to skirt the issue and maintain her friendships with both Grun and Tanyth.

She and the madame met the first day of each weekend in the madame’s office.

The office was part of the madame’s apartment, which occupied the entire top floor of one of the taller buildings on the seaside end of the estate. There was a balcony all the way around it that afforded an incredible view of the ocean. 

With all the windowed doors propped open, the ocean air flowed easily through the cozy apartment, bringing the smell of salt and seaweed. 

Linza and the madame leaned over the heavy wooden desk and reviewed the estate’s accounting books, which were all scrupulously kept. Linza would be able to contribute eventually, but she still had very much to learn. The kingdom’s tax laws were far more complex than she’d imagined, especially since ‘sexual services’ were taxed differently than ‘regular’ services. The madame had crafted a whole art of determining exactly which services could be classified as ‘regular’ (a lower tax rate) vs ‘sexual’ (a higher tax rate) and Linza was seeing how very clever it was that so many of the estate’s most expensive and sensual experiences were not explicitly ‘sexual’.

Their sessions were right before afternoon tea and the madame usually invited Linza to stay. This was Linza’s favorite part. Without any particular effort, they always got onto some interesting topic and Linza always learned something life-altering.

This time, as they settled down for tea, she said, “Would it be alright if I asked you some advice?”

“Of course,” the madame said, “I daresay that’s an express purpose of our arrangement.”

Right. Why did Linza feel like she was imposing when that was literally the premise of their relationship? The madame probably even liked getting asked for advice. Linza certainly enjoyed it when her own was solicited.

As briefly as she could, Linza explained the situation.

The madame’s eyes glittered knowingly. She said, “Follow the rules.”

Linza bit her lip. She’d been hoping for more, but perhaps this was a test. “Everything given, nothing taken, have fun?”

The madame nodded.

“I thought there might be specific rules about… workplace relationships?”

“No. I’d considered it. But I’ve found over the years that those three rules have always covered everything that’s come up.”

Well that might be because, Linza thought, those rules are sort of vague and far-reaching.

“But, for you, I’ll add one more piece of advice.”

Linza sat up a little straighter. “What’s that?”

“Use your imagination.”

Linza and Wyn sat across from each other at the table in Wyn’s dining nook.

Wyn looked through the notebook and quirked an eyebrow at Linza. “You were certainly… thorough.”

Linza bit her lip. “They’re so different, it’s like… how do you choose between steak and strawberry cake? It barely even makes sense as a question…”

“Well, maybe you just need to—what do you call it, ‘increase your sample size’? See if that helps you figure it out.” Wyn waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Linza put her head in her hands. “I think they might be mutually exclusive. I can’t just walk up to each of them and say, ‘hey, I’m gonna fuck each of you as an experiment, try to pretend this isn’t an interview!’”

“Why not?” Wyn said.

Linza groaned. She wasn’t in the mood for Wyn’s teasing.

“No, I mean it,” Wyn insisted. “Why not?”

“You’re serious?!”

“Yeah.”

“B-Because— I just, I can’t! That’s too… too…”

“Too cold?”

It was something like what Linza had said about Wyn when they’d agreed to end the ‘relationship’ part of their relationship.

Linza blushed. “I just, it’s not… it’s not me. I don’t think I could even really enjoy it with either of them, not knowing… if… I don’t know.”

Wyn chuckled. “That is where you and I differ, my friend. I’m getting second-hand hot-and-bothered just thinking about two lovely suitors vying for my attention.”

Linza buried her face in her hands. “It’s so embarrassing!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nuh uh, you’re answering me. You did this to me before and I’m doing it to you, now. Why do you feel embarrassed?”

Linza couldn’t argue with that. She was usually the one cajoling Wyn into introspection. She’d just have to deal with the taste of her own medicine. “Because I’m ashamed.”

“What’s there to be ashamed of?”

“I can’t believe either of them would actually love me and I’m scared that when they figure it out, I won’t be friends with either of them.” Linza’s voice caught in a ball of tears. She held her breath.

“Aw, c’mon, Linz.” Wyn scooted around the table and hugged her. “You’ve cried in front of me plenty of times. Just let it happen.”

Linza sniffled. “H-how stupid am I if I’m crying because two people like me?”

“Would you call me stupid?”

“No!”

“So don’t call yourself stupid.”

And so Linza relented. She was so tired of thinking that she just let herself cry, and feel the feeling of crying, Wyn’s shoulder against her cheek. And finally, she stilled.

Wyn handed Linza a handkerchief and Linza attempted to return to a semi-decent state.

“Linza, you are basically the easiest-to-like person I’ve ever met,” Wyn said.

Linza snuffled. “That’s just because—”

Wyn leveled a scolding finger at her. “Don’t you dare.”

Linza pouted. Then she cracked a smile.

Wyn put her hand to her hip. “Don’t you think that if you were some fundamentally unlovable person, I’d have kicked you to the curb ages ago? You know I don’t fuck with bullshit.”

Linza chuckled. “I do know that.”

“See, you call me brash,” she said as she tapped the side of her nose with her finger, “but doesn’t that make you all the more confident that I actually like you? It’s you I have to worry about, sometimes. Whether you’re actually telling me how you feel or whether you’re just pandering to my feelings. My feelings are that I want to know how you feel, alright?”

Linza grinned wryly. “I wish I knew how I felt.”

“I think you would if you’d stop drowning it out with how you think you should feel.”

“I feel personally attacked.”

“Good, I am personally attacking you.”

“Ugh, fine. I just don’t know what to do next.”

“You’re gonna eat this dinner I put in front of you that you hardly touched. And then you’re going to go home and get a whole night of sleep because you get so much grumpier than you realize. And then you’re gonna go walk on the beach or paint with only blue or cut off all your hair or do something moody until you finally hear whatever inside of you is screaming how you feel, mkay?”

“Okay, okay. You’re right. But for the umpteenth time, I’m not cutting off all my hair,” Linza said.

“Just a trim?”

“No!”

“But you’d look so good with it short.”

“Nope.”

“C’monnnn!”

“I thought I was supposed to listen to my feelings!”

“Just for those other things. This is different, because I’m right this time.” Wyn smirked.

“You are insufferable.”

“I love you too, Linz.”

Linz rolled her eyes and shook her head. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“You tell a mean dad joke and you look rad in an oversized sweater, what can I say?”

The last sliver of the sun tinted the sky blush pink and the water the deep purple of wine. Linza and Grun walked along the strip of wet sand at the edge of the lapping waves. 

Walking felt nice. She could breathe, at least.

They chatted about the weather. Linza recounted the story of the one and only time she’d attended a JSMI beach party. Grun shared that his mother was an orc general, his father a human librarian. His father had raised him after his mother returned to the orcish tribe lands.

Grun confessed to being a natural challenger, competitive from even a very young age, but nowadays he put that energy towards helping others where he could.

“That’s really lovely,” she said.

“Now, you, on the other hand.” He poked her upper arm. “You do way too much for other people.”

“It’s fine! I enjoy it.” And wasn’t it appreciated? Needed, even?

“You need to stick up for yourself more.”

Linza folded her arms. “I don’t like you telling me what to do.”

“Yes! Exactly!” He clapped her heartily on the back.

Linza stumbled forward. After she caught her balance, she turned and lunged at him. She may as well have shoved a brick wall.

Grun laughed.

“Whatever,” Linza grumbled, even as a genuine smile tugged at her lips.

They eventually turned around and headed back towards the estate. Linza wasn’t any closer to figuring out what she was going to do, but at least she didn’t feel queasy anymore.

Her relief was short-lived. As they stepped up the boardwalk towards the estate, Tanyth strolled down the other end. When they saw Linza and Grun, their eyes widened and they bolted like a startled cat.

Linza may have been able to play it off if she hadn’t frozen in place.

Grun’s eyes flicked from Tanyth down to her, but she couldn’t bear to look at him. A sudden chill gripped her spine, and she wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

Shit. This was exactly why she wanted to hide from both of them until she figured this out. 

Grun said, tone measured, “Does your personal issue have anything to do with Tanyth?”

Linza nodded. Her attempts at controlling the situation had gone terribly. She may as well be honest and let them both conclude that she wasn’t worth the trouble.

“It’s… probably best for all involved if you tell me what’s going on,” Grun said.

There was a subtle edge of irritation in his voice.

Whatever anger he had for her, she deserved it. “Tanyth trained me when I first got here, like they did you. We got close and… I thought I… well you know how it can get and… I was fond of them. I thought they didn’t reciprocate. They just told me this afternoon that… that they did, the whole time. And you and I, we seem to be— I mean, I’m enjoying—”

Anxiety gripped her throat, choking any further attempt to explain.

Grun’s posture was tense, his fingers in his beard. “Well,” he said. “What do you want?”

“I don’t want to hurt either of you,” Linza breathed. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

He shuffled, as if stifling a stronger reaction, then said, “No, what do you want?”

“That’s the truth! I don’t know. It’s confusing.”

“If it’s confusing, then isn’t it clear?”

“I… what?”

Grun frowned, searching for words. “I just mean… if you’re not sure, then doesn’t that mean you don’t want it?”

Linza’s chest ached. “No, I… Grun, I’m just not a sure person. Every decision in my life, all the best ones I’ve ever made, I doubted a hundred times. Moving away from home, going to JSMI, taking the job here, g-going to dinner with…” Linza mustered up the courage to look at Grun, but the rest of her words caught in the lump in her throat.

He took a breath to say something, then paused.

She could see the thoughts run by under his furrowed brow, hastily sorted. She was sure that a younger Grun would have blurted something that would have destroyed her. But this Grun took the extra moment. Finally, he grunted. “I… feel very differently, of course. I’m very sure I like you. I’m very sure I’d like to be with you. I’m very sure that I only want to be with you if you’re very sure you want to be with me.”

Linza treaded water in her mind just to stay above a spiral of anxiety. But she managed. “That’s very reasonable.”

“So, what does that mean?”

“I think it means… that… I’ll need some… time.”

“Time to decide if you like Tanyth better?” Grun said.

Linza winced.

Grun’s shoulders dropped an inch, and his face softened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Linza chewed on her lip. “No, it’s fair… but it’s not that. I need time to see if… if I’m even a functional enough person to… I don’t think I deserve nearly this level of… I have some stuff to work through, I guess.”

Grun hesitated, then said carefully, “However much space you need, I respect that. But let me say this. You’re clever and bright and talented and gorgeous and sexy, and it makes me so mad that anybody would think otherwise, including yourself. And if Tanyth can’t tell you that straight up, then do they deserve you?”

Linza could hardly let herself hear Grun’s words, lest she burst into tears. Though would that really be so bad? To have Grun’s warmth around her, to lean into his chest… Linza wanted that, wanted to unravel, but she remained frozen.

Grun offered her a soft, wry smile and a hand on her shoulder. “Looking forward to your answer. Find me when you’re ready, but I’ll respect your space otherwise.” Then he turned and walked up the boardwalk to the estate.

Linza turned back towards the ocean, stumbled towards the fringes of the waves, and collapsed into the sand, shaking. Her thoughts had turned into a riptide, pulling her under.

He was right. Of course he was. She should know what she wanted. She should expect herself to be treated better. She didn’t deserve him.

But then he’d spoken exactly to that. He’d seen her, he’d called her out on it. And he hadn’t shamed her. He’d just told her she was wrong. Matter-of-fact.

His words were a life preserver, and though she bobbed under the waters of her self-doubt, she re-surfaced.

And then there was Tanyth. Tanyth didn’t break her mind in this way. She and they were more similar. Dancing around the issue. Afraid to speak to it outright. Sensitive, softer.

If Grun was the heat of the sun, brilliant and intense, then Tanyth was the comfort of the shade, the dappled patterns of light that swayed and mesmerized.

Where Tanyth was variety, whimsy, exploration, energy, Grun was a bold, straight line, surging unstoppably towards his goal.

She loved them both.

She wished that they loved each other and not her. Then, she wouldn’t have to lose one or both friends.

And yet, Grun had spoken to that, too. Did she care so little for her own happiness that she could only find it second hand?

What did she even want out of a relationship? What did it even mean to her?

Would it be like with Wyn? Burn bright and hot, but then dim to the comforting heat of friendship? Or go out entirely?

Or could one of them be the perfect gem, which could hold the light forever without fading?

Linza raced up the hallway of the administrative building and into an empty classroom, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it as if a lion had been right on her heels.

Her heart raced, her breath came in shallow gasps.

Even after Linza’s breath should have returned to normal, it didn’t. Minutes later, she still leaned against the inside of the door, hyperventilating. 

Was she having a panic attack? They were common enough around finals at JSMI, but school had never gotten under her skin in this way. Leave it to her to have iron nerves through the hardest curriculum at JSMI and then fall apart because two people were being nice to her at the same time.

She hardly deserved either of them.

Then again, wouldn’t Grun say something about how she was being meaner to herself than she’d be to anyone else?

Grun, who had been so challenging and brash and irritating… and yet so calming and kind. She had so much more in common with Tanyth, they’d been quick friends, but their anxiety sent hers into an even more violent whirl.

Linza finally steadied enough to notice which classroom she’d ended up in. It was the same one as their calligraphy lesson. The ink called out to her from the cubbies on the wall, and she pulled out a sheet of paper and tried to write through what she was feeling.

Her shaky hands nearly tipped the ink pot over when she dipped her quill, but her first draft didn’t really need to be legible, anyway.

She filled the paper. Then squished more in the sides. Then turned over the back.

She covered two pieces of paper with cramped scrawl and yet still she was no closer to finding the right words.

The door groaned behind her, and Linza whirled.

It was Grun, back in his leather shorts and humming a song. He stopped short as he saw her. His eyebrow quirked, and his wry half-smile sent Linza’s stomach churning even worse. 

“You don’t look happy to see me,” he said.

“No, not at all!” She forced a smile. “Just surprised! What are you doing here?”

“I was coming to practice.”

“Practice?”

“Calligraphy.”

“Oh! Really?”

Grun laughed. “Really. What, you don’t think someone like me would actually enjoy calligraphy?”

Linza grinned wryly. “I’d be a total idiot if I thought that.”

He winked at her. “Don’t worry. I’m used to it. Comes with the ‘territory’.” He flexed and patted his chest with an open hand.

Linza snorted a laugh.

Grun stepped closer, noticing Linza’s quill and paper. “You practicing too?”

Linza gulped. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Oh yeah?” He sidled over. “I’m sure whatever it is, it’s already perfect several times over.”

She snatched the pieces of paper up off of the table and balled them up, even as wet ink streaked her palms. “It’s private,” she squeaked. Making a scene like that made her want to shrivel up and disappear, but it was way better than Grun seeing anything she’d written.

“Alright,” he said. “I won’t pry.” He sounded like he wanted to, though. “Lucky I caught you. I forgot to ask earlier. What do you want to do tonight?”

“I’m feeling a bit ill, actually.” If she couldn’t hide her anxiety, maybe she could play it off as food poisoning or something.

Grun’s expression was skeptical. “If you don’t want to, you can just say so. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

“No!” Linza said. “No, it’s not that. I really do feel ill.”

“Hm. Too ill to get dinner with me?”

She nodded. She’d hardly be keeping anything down.

“Too ill for a walk on the beach?”

Linza hesitated. Grun’s steady presence was calming, and the ocean always helped clear her head… Spending more time with him was idiocy, digging herself into a deeper hole, but… suddenly, she was afraid to be alone with her thoughts. 

Linza nodded. “That’d be nice.”