Page 26 of Truth

“I don’t think that was what Horo meant.” My mate said.

I assumed Horo was the small wolf. “That is what he said.”

Justice sighed, “It was.” He turned to Horo, “About Lenin. . . “

His words trailed off when the wolf took a step closer to me, his eyes fixated on the marked skin that peaked out through my tunic. Even in glamour, the fates refused to hide it, not that I minded. I was proud to be paired with strong beings such as Liberty and Justice. The fates had smiled widely when they gifted me.

“How is this possible?” Horo asked Justice.

“Well, it’s not unheard of.” Justice shrugged.

“But you and I both know it is a rarity, specially to have mates of both genders.” Horo’s eyebrows wiggled and Justice’s skin turned rosy.

He was embarrassed of me, my mate was. His shame hurt and pained my emotions. I turned away, not willing to discuss it as I searched for my herbs. I hoped my state of mind didn’t alter the effects of her tea, but I could not change it now. The sorrow from his shame had rooted inside of me.

I could feel it. I loathed it.

I reached for the vial of hyssop and shook it. The once vibrant purple flowers were now brown and dried. But still, they would work just as effectively to relax and calm Liberty, to help lull her into a peaceful sleep.

“Lenin.” My mate seemed uncomfortable, but he attempted a conversation. “Horo just got in and hasn’t eaten. Are you hungry?”

“I am well.” I answered shortly, my focus on organizing my herb vials, my intent on not wanting to look at my mate.

“I can order eggplant lasagna.” He offered, and I knew he was trying, but I did not feel like eating.

“Eggplant?” Horo laughed, “I don’t think you’ve eaten an eggplant once in your entire life.”

If possible, my mate's face turned redder than it had previously. It is true that wolves are carnivorous, but my mate did try a vegetable during our lunch meal. He did not seem completely opposed to the idea of eating more.

Justice turned to his friend, “Lenin does not eat meat.”

I do not understand why my dietary preferences were so hilarious, but still, Horo laughed at the fact before saying, “Fate, such humor.”

I frowned. I do not think fate would make a mistake, but I wondered if Justice did not trust fate’s decision. I turned back to my herbs, “Feed your friend. It is an honor to meet you, Horo. May you protect my mates with the strength of a true warrior.”

“You as well, truth seeker.” Horo, despite his earlier jests at my expense, slightly bowed.

I tried not to concentrate on their footsteps as they walked away, but when I could hear them no longer, the relief I felt was palpable. I did not dislike his friend, but I also was too tired to entertain much. Training Liberty and her Oak used more energy than I had originally expected, though they were learning well. For a woman who spent her whole life as a human, the fates favor her, and even the earth energy dances around her, wanting to play. It would take time, but when she learned to use it, to pull at it, to borrow and lend it, the power would be greater than anyone has ever seen.

I reached high into the cupboard and pulled down a white china cup and saucer, the rim painted in an elegant gold with tiny hand painted roses scattered over the surface made in pale pinks and purples. It is perfect for her, elegant and beautiful. In the middle of the kitchen’s island there was a tray which I pulled toward me, placing the china cup and saucer onto its surface, before finding a small canister to hold sugar and a tiny pitcher for milk. I searched through the drawers until I found a mesh tea ball, and when I turned back toward the tray, I startled, nearly dropping the loose tea filters in my hand.

“I did not hear you approach.”

Justice ran his hand over his head, “We can be silent on our feet when we want to be.”

I nodded and walked toward the tray, “That is a good trait.”

“Yeah.” He replied, though his voice had no conviction. We let silence settle over us as I adjusted the tray, pointlessly rearranging it to keep busy, while his presence loomed. Finally, he blurted out. “He didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I am not offended.”

He sighed, “Then what is it?”

“You are ashamed.”

He fell back a step as if I slapped him. “I never once said that.”

“You didn’t have to say it, your face reddened with embarrassment that the fates gifted you me.”