They didn't talk about what happened.
They never did.
But Thessaly started walking closer to Liss in the halls.
Sat beside her at lunch.
Practiced sword drills while glancing sideways, always making sure she was still there.
And Liss…
Liss started to feel something she didn't understand.
It wasn't hunger.
Wasn't fear.
It was the feeling of wanting to be remembered.
That night, they were alone on the training field. Everyone else had gone to sleep.
Liss was still holding her sword awkwardly.
"You're too stiff," Thessaly said.
She stepped behind her, guiding Liss's arms into proper form.
Her hand lingered on Liss's wrist.
Liss turned slightly, their faces only inches apart.
"You know I'm not real, right?" Liss whispered.
"Don't care," Thessaly said.
And then she kissed her.
Soft.
Sharp.
Terrified.
But real.