Everyone in Septimont had forgotten about the head priestess of the Tetragon Temple.
Life went on though.
Culturally or geographically, Septimont settled differently than anywhere else in Rinascita. Iuno had always thought so. It wasn't the soft, diffused glow that filtered through Ragunna's marbled plazas or the hazy warmth that settled over the coastal villages. Septimont's light was pure gold and with swirling clouds above. The city itself seemed to be in a perpetual state of competition with the sun, and the sun, stubborn bastard that it was, refused to lose.
Rocks on the outside. Statues of dragons here and there. A fortress tower sat in the middle of Septimont. Like ocean waves, everything crashed toward it. There was this grittiness to it.
Iuno was not gritty, yet she lived that way. She was a beauty. A graceful young woman with fair, porcelain-like complexion and remarkably long, flowing midnight-blue hair that styled into twin tails cascading far down her back. The end of her hair turned into a soft, pale blue reminiscent of the moon itself.
"...Who's that?"
"Are you stupid or what? She's that Priestess… Wait, what's her name again? Iuno?"
"Iuno the Priestess? You mean that prodigy everyone talked about?"
"Weird. How could I've never heard of such a household name?"
When people noticed her, they cast a glance then looked away.
See, nobody remembered the woman known as Iuno. Not really, not fully, not with the understanding of her sacrifice and death and everything she was.
At the same time, who would not want to look at her? Her white dress cut itself everywhere, showing her cleavage and thighs and her shoulders. Gold accessories decorated her neck and she wore white-dark-gold heels. Coupled with the ridiculous cascade of blue hair that everyone in the Tetragon Temple insisted made her look "divinely touched" and you got a lady that earned agenda-fueled glances at her rear.
'Divinely touched.' Iuno snorted, earning a curious glance from a passing fruit vendor. 'Divinely touched. Sounds like something you'd say about a horse that's been struck by lightning.'
Septimont's streets bustled. This was a city that worshipped combat and so much of the city smelled like metal. Every few blocks, the architecture gave way to small training squares where young men and women sparred with wooden weapons. The clack-clack-clack of practice swords formed a rhythm beneath the marketplace noise. Arsinosa, the Lioness of Glory, adorned nearly every public building in some way. There weren't hulking statues of Arsinosa, moreso little symbols and swords and helms and such. The people of Septimont did not traditionally worship gods or treat their Sentinel as a divine deity. Instead of conventional religious worship, Septimontian culture centered on human strength, martial prowess, and honoring legendary figures and guardian echoes.
So, question was, what was Iuno doing walking the streets?
She had decided, three days prior, that she needed a break.
The political machinations of the temple had grown tiresome. The way the priestesses watched her during lunar readings, waiting for her to slip—and the way the council members fawned when she didn't. The endless debates about whether the moon's shifting patterns indicated a favorable Agon season or a warning from Arsinosa.
Iuno was a prodigy. Everyone said it. The most gifted priestess in three generations. She could predict weather patterns, agricultural yields, even the outcomes of Agon matches with unnerving precision—all by studying how moonlight shifted across the temple's sacred pools.
And she was bored.
Bored of the reverence. Bored of the politics. Bored of being Iuno the Infallible.
So she'd walked out of the temple. She'd come back soon, just not as soon as people expected.
Which was how she found herself standing in front of a café.
It was a small place, tucked between a blacksmith's forge and a textile shop. The sign above the door read "THE GRINDSTONE" in weathered letters, and beneath it, smaller: "Coffee. Bread. Talk, talk, talk."
Iuno pushed open the door and a bell chimed. The interior was warm and smelled of roasted coffee beans and fresh bread. Wooden tables, mismatched chairs, a counter along the back wall with an impressive array of ceramic mugs hanging from hooks. A few patrons sat scattered around; an old woman reading a scroll, two young men in training leathers hunched over a shared plate of pastries, and a woman in merchant's clothing scribbling numbers on a wax tablet.
Behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine with a rag, was a young man.
He looked up when the bell chimed. Dark hair, slightly tousled, with brown eyes that crinkled at the corners even before he smiled. And he did smile—immediately, without hesitation, as if her arrival was the best thing that had happened to him all morning.
"Welcome to the Grindstone," the barista said. His voice was warm without being cloying, steady without being monotone. "First time in?"
Iuno snorted. "What gave it away?"
"I think I'd remember a priestess." He slung the rag over his shoulder, smiling.
She approached the counter. His name, she now saw, was embroidered on his apron in simple thread: Sol. Sol leaned his forearms on the counter easy.
"So what can I get for you?" Sol asked. "Coffee? Tea? We have an extra amount of mint tea."
"Is it bad or something?"
"Oh no, it's mostly herbal. The blacksmith next door claims it cured his gout, though I should mention he also claims his hammer is haunted, so take that with several grains of salt."
Iuno studied the menu board behind him. The handwriting was neat but unpretentious. "I'll try the mint tea." She smirked a little. "And if it doesn't cure my gout, I'll be having words."
"Wouldn't expect anything less." Sol moved to prepare her drink. He then turned and crossed his arms. "Although…can priestesses get gout?"
"What? Of course they can!"
"Can't you just, I dunno, wish them away?"
"No! That's not how that works!"
"You don't believe in defying fate?"
That earned a small pause. If there was anything Iuno believed in, it was that. Seeing was simple. But facing what you see wasn't. For many, to see the future was merely a blessing. For Iuno, it was a real curse; knowing what was coming and being powerless to stop it. She did not and would not accept the prophesied end. She believed only the weak would stand by and just watch it all unfold. Even if she had to look at the same agonizing truth over and over again. Even if the struggle never ended. Even if she was only giving fate a little dent…
"Uh, hello? You okay?"
"Y-yes, I'm fine. Just…"
"Wait, do you have actually have gout!"
"No!" Iuno crossed her arms, humping. "If I had gout, I wouldn't be here!"
"...you'd be wishing it away?"
"No!"
He chuckled whole-heartedly and that was when she realized he had been teasing her this whole time. Sol casually placed a steaming ceramic mug on the counter.
Huffing, Iuno wrapped her hands around the mug. The warmth seeped into her palms.
"Your name?"
"Iuno."
"Iuno. Cute name." He picked up a cloth and began wiping down a section of the counter that was already clean.
"T-thank you." Trying not to blush (she wasn't!), Iuno took a sip of her tea. It was good. Surprisingly good. The mint was fresh, and there was a hint of honey beneath it that she hadn't expected.
"By the way, the compliment is free. The tea is not."
She expected to feel annoyed. She'd rebuffed enough smooth-talking courtiers and temple sycophants to last several lifetimes. But Sol's delivery was so matter-of-fact, so free of agenda, that it didn't land as a line at all.
"I'll pay, I'll pay."
"I hope priestess pay is good."
"Don't push your luck," she said, but her voice lacked its usual edge.
"Never do." He tossed the cloth over his shoulder again. Sol then tapped the counter. "Refill on the tea?"
"I haven't finished this one." She was almost finished though. This was really, really good!
"I know. I'm asking in advance. I'm a forward-thinking barista."
"...I'll take the refill," she said.
"Excellent choice."
***
The next morning, she returned.
"Oh, hi."
"Hi. Mint tea."
"Sure! Anything else? Maybe a donut?"
"What's a donut?"
"It's the best!"
And the morning after that.
"Oh, it's you. Iuno, right?"
"Finally memorized my name?"
"Yeah! It's a nice name."
"....."
"Iuno?"
"H-humph. I-it's nothing."
And the morning after that.
"Oh Iuno. You're here early! I barely opened the store."
"So what? I can't come in."
"Oh no, it's fine. Take a seat!"
Within a week, Iuno had established a routine. She'd arrive at the Grindstone shortly after opening, claim the same table by the window, and order mint tea and a donut. Sol would bring it to her with a smile.
"Here you are! Your tea…and your donut!"
It was a circle of chocolate with a hole in it. Fascinating, really. Taking a bite of the donut, Iuno nodded. "Thank you, Sol."
"Is it good?"
"Fishing for a complaint?"
Sol blinked and like a puppy, his brows went soft. "Wait, it's not good?"
"H-hold on, I never say that. It's good, g-great even."
He lit up and Iuno's heart skipped a beat. "Really?" he asked.
"Really!" Another bite. "S-see? Love it!"
She did honestly. It was just, sometimes, Sol drilled holes into her heart with a look or a blink. It was like he had her under a spell.
"S-so, uhh, how did your, um, meeting with the blacksmith go?"
Apparently, for the past month, Sol's neighbor had been bothering him. He was supposedly a blacksmith and even though his workplace was elsewhere, he sometimes took his work home. Which made noise and which bothered Sol. Iuno was trying to be a gracious, concerned customer.
"I knocked on his door and, uh, he threw a horseshoe at me. Missed, obviously. His aim is terrible. That's why he's a blacksmith and not a contender in the Agons."
"Really? Why!?"
"People are getting crazier by the day, Iuno."
Iuno laughed. She was doing that more often now—laughing at his stupid jokes, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease the moment she walked through the door. The other regulars had started to recognize her. The old woman with the scroll nodded at her now. The merchant woman had asked to borrow her salt shaker once. No one stared. No one whispered. No one begged her to read the moonlight for them.
Iuno was, impossibly, just a customer.
Sol, for his part, treated her exactly the same as he treated everyone else. He was kind to the old woman, patient with the trainees, deferential to the merchant. He laughed easily and often, and his laughter was the kind that invited others to join in. He never pried into her past and never asked pointed questions about where she came from or what she did. When she volunteered information, he accepted it without pressing for more.
Looking up at him, she thought, 'You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.' Except the thought was so sudden and so startling that she nearly choked on her tea.
"Hey, you okay? Was the tea too thick?" Sol leaned down and patted her on the back.
"I-I'm okay…"
Except he got closer and that meant she could see his looks more clearly. Ugh, he was so hot—no, no, he was, uh, he was okay. Just okay! Y-yeah…! Totally not kissable!
…shoot. She found herself awfully still and looking at him. Sol just blinked. "Iuno?"
"It's, uh…"
She didn't kiss him, obviously. She was Iuno of the Tetragon Temple. She was a seer. A priestess. A woman of dignity and restraint and—
'And I'm staring at his mouth. I'm literally staring at his mouth while he talks about coffee. What is wrong with me?'
"Uh, so anyway," Sol straightened himself, apparently unaware that she'd been mentally undressing him for the past ten seconds, "I told him if he wanted his hammer exorcised, he should talk to the Order of the Deep, and then he threw another horseshoe at me. I'm starting to think he just likes throwing horseshoes."
"Maybe you should pray for him not to get customers."
He smiled. "Iuno…that's not very nice."
She looked away, flushing red. "J-just a suggestion."
"Right, right. I'll see you in a bit." The bell rang. Another customer. Iuno's heart panged with envy when she saw it was an attractive blonde. Ugh…!
'You have nothing to be insecure about..'
It wasn't about her looks, it was…it was about Sol. Iuno took a long sip of her tea and tried very hard not to notice the way his forearms looked when he addressed the female customer. She was hot, and he was hot…
Iuno watched the interactions with deathly still emotions. Fortunately, the attractive blonde got what she wanted and quickly left.
"Phew…
Did Iuno question why she was so relieved? No.
***
A month passed. Maybe a little more. Time moved strangely outside the temple. She went out and it was rapid and thrilling. She went back and the temple felt agonizingly dull.
Iuno had grown accustomed to Grindstone. It was her second home.
She'd also grown accustomed to Sol. He was her…she couldn't say what. But his laugh. His smile. The way he remembered exactly how much honey she liked in her tea.
She was, against all odds and expectations, becoming friends with a barista.
Which was why, on a particularly humid afternoon, she was genuinely surprised to run into him at a grocery market three blocks from the café.
It was the first time she'd seen him outside the Grindstone. The first time she'd seen him without his apron on. She asked herself, 'I-is that really him?' She clutched her basket tightly. Her thighs tightened too.
Sol was wearing a simple tunic and carrying a basket filled with vegetables. He was examining what looked like a very large fish.
'Should I go to him? O-or should I let him notice me?'
With anyone else, these anxious thoughts would never have bounced in her prodigious mind. With Sol, she did. Heavens, she thought her legs were shaking.
"Iuno!" He noticed her first! Sol waved enthusiastically, nearly hitting an elderly man in the face with his basket. "Sorry, sorry—Iuno! What are you doing here?"
He jogged over. His smile made her knees buckle.
'Stay cool, stay cool—!'
"Buying food," Iuno said dryly. "It's a market. That's what people do."
"Right, but I've never seen you here. I assumed you materialized there every morning and then vanished into the ether. Like a tea-drinking ghost."
Iuno giggled. "Seriously? A tea-drinking ghost?"
"Very specific kind of spirit. Understudied in the academic literature."
She found herself smiling despite herself. 'Stop that. Stop smiling at him. He's not that funny.'
"You're buying a suspicious amount of vegetables for one person," Iuno observed.
Sol looked down at his basket as if surprised to find it there. "Oh. This. Well, I cook. Actually, I cook a lot. The café only serves pastries and coffee, but at home I make actual meals. Tonight I'm doing a fish stew. The fishmonger said this one was caught this morning." He held up the fish. Its dead eyes stared at Iuno with what she interpreted as mute judgment.
'So this fish gets to go home with Sol,' Iuno thought. 'Ugh. Why am I getting a little pissed…'
"Fish are judgmental creatures. It's the unblinking eyes." Sol lowered the basket. "Hey, do you want to come over?"
Iuno blinked. "W…hat?"
"For dinner. I'm making stew. There's plenty."
"Er, um…" Malfunction, malfunction! The tsundere was being struck out by his kindness. Turning red like a tomato.
"And you said you've been eating mostly street food since you got here, which is fine, but my stew is... well, I don't want to brag, but it's won awards."
Iuno latched onto that. "Coffee, tea, and stew? How many ridiculous talents do you have?"
Sol grinned proudly. "More than you'd expect."
Like a school girl half her age, she giggled in agreement. Iuno should say no. She should definitely say no. She was a priestess, for fuck's sake. A seer. She couldn't just go to a barista's house for dinner like some common whore—
"That sounds nice," Iuno heard herself say. "What time?"
Sol's smile widened. "Whenever you want. I'm done here. We could walk back together, if you're free now."
Iuno was free. She was, technically, always free. She never imposed it though, she went back to the temple like a good girl. However, today, tonight, maybe…
"Fine," Iuno said. "But if your stew is terrible, I'm leaving a bad review."
"I'd expect nothing less."
At the cashier area, they stood side-by-side. Sol was oblivious to her nerves. Bouncing on her soles subtly, fingers playing with her skirt.
As he opened his wallet to pay, Iuno thought, 'We…kinda look like a couple here, don't we? A husband paying groceries for his wife…'
She did not say a word of it.
They walked through Septimont together, weaving through the late-afternoon crowds. The training squares were quieter now. Most of the serious sparring happened in the early morning, before the heat of the day set in. A few children chased each other with wooden swords, shrieking with laughter. A street musician played a tune on a flute that was slightly out of key.
"S-so, uhh…"
Oh god, she realized she was not good at conversation. Sol had been humming to himself and probably thinking about his stew. He looked at her. "Iuno?"
"Nothing, err, you're thinking about the stew?"
"Correct! You've gotten good at reading me, you know that?"
Pride swelled. "I do my best."
He stopped in front of a modest building of two stories, fresh with a stone façade and a wooden door painted dark blue. "This is the place. Nothing fancy, but it's home."
Keys opened the blue door. Click, and Iuno's heels were off. Wow, she felt small beside Sol. He wasn't tall but a lady without heels was a lady with half her wanted presence.
The interior was small but comfortable. A sitting area with a worn leather couch. A kitchen that was clean but clearly well-used, judging by the collection of pots hanging from a rack above the stove. A staircase leading to what she assumed was a bedroom. Books on every available surface: histories, cookbooks, what looked like a treatise on Arsinosan theology that had been used as a coaster.
"Nice place, " Iuno said, trying to sound like her normal self. "You, um, you read about the Lioness?" she asked, gesturing at the stained book.
"Oh, that." Sol busied himself with the fish, pulling out a cutting board and a knife that was far too large for the task. "I read about everything. Religions, philosophies, military strategy. I'm a dilettante in the worst sense. Know a little about a lot." He began chopping vegetables with enthusiasm and precision. "Make yourself comfortable. Wine? Water? More tea? I have some mint!"
"What, you brought for me?" Iuno joked.
"Yes! I bought it specifically in case you ever came over."
"Oh. Um…" Iuno stared at him. "Y-you…" She suddenly twirled her bangs. "R-really?"
"I'm a forward-thinking barista. We've established this."
"Thank you," Iuno said, and her voice came out softer than she'd intended.
Sol looked up from his vegetables. Something passed between them. Was it a recognition that whatever this was, it had moved past the boundaries of barista and customer? Iuno swallowed that thought down her throat.
"Want to make the tea yourself?"
"H-huh?"
"Standing around isn't so fun. Tea's in the cabinet above the stove," Sol said. "The fish stew takes about an hour. You can keep me company while I cook."
"H-hmph. Okay."
Going side-by-side by him in the kitchen, that feeling of domestic life bubbled up again. 'If someone saw us…they'd think we were married.'
Closing her eyes, flustered, she made her tea. Tea wasn't a complicated thing: boil water, pour it over a tea bag with mint, and let it steep for 3 to 5 minutes. Beside her, Sol hummed. He did that often.
"Tell me something," Sol said, stirring the pot.
"What?"
"You know, for conversation."
"Oh, uh…" Iuno stared at the boiling water.
'Something…something. How about: I'm the most powerful seer in three generations and I've been lying to you about who I am for a month. How about: I can predict the future by watching moonlight on water, and I saw you in a dream three nights ago, and I woke up with my hand between my legs. How about that?'
"I used to be very lonely," she said.
The stirring stopped. Sol turned to look at her, and his expression wasn't pitying or surprised or anything she'd expected. It was just... attentive.
"Used to be?"
"I'm less lonely now."
Sol smiled. It was a smaller smile than usual. "That's a good thing to know about you."
The tea and stew were readied shortly after that. They ate at his table, across from each other, with candles because the sun had set and Sol's lighting situation was "mostly atmospheric." The conversation flowed easily since he did most of the talking. He told her about growing up in the city, about his parents who'd moved to Ragunna, about the café and the blacksmith and the pigeon that was, apparently, now building a nest.
"I'm worried about the structural integrity of the roof," Sol said, gesturing with his spoon. "Pigeon nests are notoriously poorly engineered."
"Can't you hire people?"
"Yeah, but I need a really good string of days to actually hire those people."
"Ha, my money isn't enough."
Sol smiled and pointed a spoon. "I appreciate every cent, my dear customer."
Iuno giggled and looked down at her empty bowl. She'd eaten every bite. "This was adequate."
"Adequate." He pressed a hand to his chest. "She says adequate. I bared my soul through culinary expression and she says adequate."
"Fine. It was good."
"Good."
"Very good."
"Very good!"
"Don't let it go to your head," the tsundere said.
"Too late. It's already there. My head is enormous. I'll never fit through doorways again," Sol joked.
Iuno laughed, and the sound filled his small kitchen, and she didn't try to stifle it. She let it out, let it be exactly what it was; the laugh of a woman who hadn't realized how much she'd needed to laugh.
After dinner, they sat on his worn leather couch and talked until the candles burned low. She told him about the temple—heavily edited, names changed, presented as "a religious institution I visited once"—and he listened without judgment. He told her about his dreams of maybe leaving Septimont one day, seeing the rest of Rinascita, and she listened without telling him that she could probably arrange safe passage anywhere he wanted to go.
"Ah, it's dark." Sol looked her in the eye. "Want me to walk you home?"
"Do I look like a damsel in distress?"
"I see a dame…and she's in distress…"
She hopped to her feet, huffing and smiling. "Fine, walk me."
She was way stronger than him in a battle. Still…it felt nice. She didn't let him drop her off at the temple, just walkway through.
It was, Sol reflected later, the best evening she'd had in years.
***
The visits to Sol's place became a weekly occurrence.
Every evening that Sol wasn't working late at the café, Iuno would appear at his door.
"Hi!"
"Oh, Iuno? What's up?"
"I, erm…"
"Come in, come in!"
At first she had no excuse. She rectified that and she started bringing bread from the market. Sometimes he'd have a new recipe to try. Sometimes they'd just sit on his couch and talk about nothing and everything until the sky outside went dark.
Iuno learned a lot about him and vice-versa. She let slips of her past inside, such as people not remembering her. He must have assumed it was more of a psychological thing than a mystical one. Iuno was fine with that. She learned that he didn't care about her past that much. Oh, he wanted to know about her, however, he did not let it define their relationship. Whoever she'd been before she walked into the Grindstone didn't matter to him. What mattered was who she was now, in his kitchen, stealing bites of his cooking before it was ready.
…yeah, when she found herself smiling and holding a casket of bread in front of Sol's door, she realized:
'Oh my god, I'm in love with him.'
She felt her chest tighten with an emotion she couldn't name.
'This is it, isn't it. This is what the poets are always going on about. This is what the moon doesn't show me. This is the one future I can't predict.'
She didn't tell him. Of course she didn't tell him. She was Iuno of the Tetragon Temple. She was a prodigy. A seer. A woman of dignity and restraint and—
"Oh, Iuno! Great to see you!"
"S-Sol! Hi! I, erm…"
"Want to come in?"
"Y-yeah…"
Iuno could not find it in herself to confess.
That was, until, a certain day.
***
That day came with the daring emotion of jealousy.
It was mid-morning, and the Grindstone was busier than usual. Iuno sat at her usual table, sipping her tea, while Sol moved behind the counter with his characteristic efficiency. He was chatting with a customer…
'Ugh. Another one?'
Yes, it was a woman customer, young, probably around his age, with copper hair and a laugh that carried across the room.
"—and then the horse just sat down," the woman was saying. "Right in the middle of the parade. The Agon champion was furious."
"What did they do?" Sol asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.
"They had to cancel the whole procession. It was sooo messy!"
Sol laughed, and the woman laughed with him, and Iuno felt something hot and sharp twist in her stomach.
'Stop it. He's a barista. He talks to customers. That's his job. That's literally what he gets paid to do.'
But the woman leaned closer to the counter, and Sol didn't lean back, and Iuno's hand tightened around her mug so hard she was surprised it didn't shatter.
'Okay, so…she's pretty. She's pretty and she's laughing at his jokes…and he's laughing at hers. That bitch…seriously! The fuck! Do I have to remind her that he's—'
He's what?
Sol wasn't hers. They weren't together. Iuno was a customer. Sol was a barista. Whatever she felt, whatever she'd been feeling for weeks, it didn't give her any claim on him.
All she could do was glare until the copper-haired woman finally left. Casually, and too cutely for his own good, Sol caught Iuno's eye and waved. She waved back, and her smile felt brittle on her face.
"You okay?" Sol asked when she came up for her refill. "You look like you swallowed a lemon."
"I'm fine."
"You're making the same face the blacksmith makes when I mention the pigeon."
"I said I'm fine."
Sol cocked his head. "Okay. Okay. Just checking. But I'm here if you need me."
'If I need you…' Iuno wanted to ask about the woman. She wanted to ask who she was, how he knew her, if she came here often, if he thought she was pretty, if he'd ever considered—
'No. I'm not doing this. I'm not going to be that person. I'm Iuno of the Tetragon Temple. I don't get jealous over guys. I don't.'
"I'll be at your place tonight," Iuno said instead. "If you're free."
Sol's expression softened. "I'm always free for you."
She wanted to confess right then and there. She left before she could say something stupid.
But…was confessing really stupid?
***
The evening was warm and Iuno walked to Sol's house with her heart hammering against her ribs.
She'd made a decision.
She'd spent the entire afternoon pacing her rented room, rehearsing what she'd say, imagining every possible outcome. She'd seen a thousand futures in her sacred pools, but none of them had prepared her for this. None of them had shown her what it felt like to stand outside someone's door and know that whatever you said next would change everything.
Sol was waiting on his front step when she arrived. He stood when he saw her, and his smile was the same as always—warm, genuine, happy to see her.
"Hey. I was starting to think you weren't coming," Sol said.
"I'm here."
They walked up to his door together. His hand went to the handle.
"Wait."
Sol turned. They were inches apart now, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, close enough that she could smell the coffee and cinnamon that clung to his clothes.
"What is it?"
Iuno took a breath. 'This is it. This is the moment. The moonlight didn't show me this. The pools didn't show me this. This is mine. This is just mine.'
"I need to tell you something," she said. "And you need to let me finish before you say anything."
Sol's expression shifted. He could clearly sense that this was not the usual banter. "Okay," he said slowly. "I'm listening."
"Look, my name is Iuno. And I'm the head priestess of the Tetragon Temple. Everyone forgot about me, but I…"
She watched his face for a reaction, like shock, maybe, or betrayal. But Sol just stood there, listening, exactly as she'd asked.
"Everyone forgot about me because I saved Septimont," she continued. "B-but I'm not some upstart prodigy. I-I've advised Agon councils and blessed champions and performed rituals that most priestesses will never be permitted to attempt. And three months ago, everything changed a-and I was alone." Her voice caught, but she pushed through. "I was tired of being alone."
"Iuno…"
"I'm not finished." She stepped closer. They were almost touching now. "I love you."
Sol opened his mouth. "You're…the head priestess of the Tetragon Temple," he said.
"Yes."
"And everyone…forgot?"
"Yes."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then his face broke into the widest smile she'd ever seen.
"Well…I told you I was terrible with faces."
…huh?
He reached up and tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear. "So, Iuno. I've been serving tea to the most important woman in Septimont and I've been making her laugh at pigeon jokes."
Iuno couldn't help it—she laughed too, a sound that was half relief and half hysteria. "You're not angry I lied?"
"What's to be angry about? You were alone, I made you tea. Seems like we both got what we wanted." His hand was still against her face, warm and rough from the coffee machine. "Except I wanted something else too."
They got closer. So close, she could smell him. "What?"
"This."
And he kissed her.
His lips were soft and tasted faintly of coffee, and his hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Iuno made a small, surprised noise that turned the kiss deeper and needier. Her hands found his chest, fisting in the fabric of his tunic.
They broke apart, breathing hard.
"How was that?"
For her, he was the cutest human being ever. For all her tsundere tendencies and arrogance ability, she fell to him. "I'm the head priestess of the Tetragon Temple. It was…it was the best kiss of my life."
"Mm." He kissed her again, softer this time. "Then is this the second best?"
She giggled. "Yep, second."
Iuno kissed him this time. Harder. Deeper. Her tongue traced the seam of his lips and he opened for her with a groan, his hands sliding down to her waist.
"We should go inside," Iuno murmured against his mouth.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He brought her inside while still kissing her. His hands latched onto her ass. Woah. This was new! The door swung open, and they stumbled through together, and Iuno felt something she hadn't felt in years.
Iuno felt free.
"Nnggh, you really love my butt, don't you?"
It was a nice butt. He practically lifted her off her feet as he kissed and dragged her along.
The door closed behind them with a soft click (thank you gravity) and then his hands were everywhere—her hips, her back, her hair—while her fingers worked at the fabric of his tunic, yanking it up, needing skin.
"So…bedroom?"
"You're giving me orders?" But her voice had no bite. Her voice had lost all its sharp edges somewhere between the doorstep and the kiss.
"Yeah." He pulled back just enough to look at her, his brown eyes dark and certain. "I am."
The submission in Iuno's chest flipped over. She'd spent years giving orders. Years being the one who decided, who directed, who carried the weight of every decision on shoulders that never got to rest. And here was this barista telling her what to do with such calm authority that her knees nearly buckled.
'Oh fuck. Oh fuck, I like this. I really fucking like this.'
Iuno let him lead her.
His bedroom was small with a window overlooking the quiet street, a bed with rumpled sheets that smelled like him, a stack of those terrible romance novels on the nightstand. Candles. He'd lit candles. When had he lit candles?
"Were you expecting this?" she asked.
Sol's hands found the small of her back. "I'm a candle guy, Iuno."
"Mmmppph~!!"
And then they were on the bed, and Iuno was on her back, and the linen dress she'd worn to be ordinary was suddenly the most frustrating garment in all of Rinascita. Her chest rose and fell with breaths that came too fast, her breasts straining against the fabric, and Sol…Sol was standing on his knees, looking down at her with an expression she'd never seen on his face before.
Hunger. Pure, undisguised hunger.
"You have no idea," he said, his voice lower than she'd ever heard it, "how many mornings I've watched you walk through that door and had to remind myself to keep my hands on the espresso machine."
Iuno propped herself up on her elbows. "Show me."
His hands went to his belt. The leather slid through the buckle with a sound that seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room. Then his pants were falling, and his undergarment, and—
Iuno's breath stopped. Just... stopped. Her lungs forgot their function. Her heart forgot its rhythm. Every thought in her head dissolved into static because Sol's cock was—
'That's not possible. That's not fucking possible. How does he walk around with that thing? How does he stand behind that counter and make tea and smile like he doesn't have a—'
"Sol." Her voice came out strangled. "Sol, you are a horse! O-oh my gods and goddesses!"
The ordinary man known as Sol was standing there with an extraordinary erection that could have been sculpted by a lunatic artist. "Thanks," he said with a small smile.
"It's enormous." Iuno sat up fully now, her eyes glued to the sight in front of her. Her mouth had gone dry. Her cunt had gone wet. The contradiction was not lost on her. "It's the biggest cock I've ever seen…!"
The biggest cock she had ever imagined.
Thick, long, with a slight curve upward. The head was already slick, already flushed, and the shaft—blessed fucking Arsinosa, the shaft—veins running along the underside, a weight to it that made her thighs clench together. Eight inches? Nine? She couldn't gauge. She'd lost all ability to measure anything except her own desperate, sudden need.
"Can I—" Sol swallowed. "Come here. Come closer. I want to—"
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
Sol shuffled forward until his cock was inches from her face. The tip radiated against her lips. Iuno reached up with both hands—her fingers couldn't even close around the girth, couldn't fucking circle it—and guided him into her mouth.
"You got this?"
"D-don't underestimate me?" Iuno said. Except the first inch made her jaw ache. The second inch made her eyes water.
By the fifth inch, she was moaning around him like she'd been sucking cock her entire life, like her throat had been waiting for exactly this, like every prayer she'd ever offered to the moon had been leading to this moment.
"Fuck," Sol hissed. His hand found her hair, tangling in the blue strands. "Iuno—fuck—"
She pulled back, let her tongue drag along the underside, traced the ridge of the head. 'Taste him. Learn him. Make him fucking lose his mind.'
Her hand worked the base of his shaft—couldn't fit it all in her mouth, couldn't even come close, so she made up for it with her fist, twisting on the upstroke, squeezing on the downstroke.
Schlick, schlick, schliiick!
"You're—" Sol's hips jerked forward involuntarily. "You're really good at this."
Iuno pulled off long enough to say, "I'm a prodigy at everything," and then she swallowed him down again. Deeper this time. As deep as she could manage. Her throat constricted around the head and she heard him groan.
'That's it. That's the sound I want. Make that sound again. Make it louder.'
Her head bobbed. Her jaw ached. Twin-tailed blue hair went down again and again. Iuno hollowed her cheeks and sucked like her salvation depended on it, like his cum was the only thing that could quench a thirst she'd had for years. Her free hand cupped his balls and she felt him shudder.
"I'm close," he warned. "Iuno, I'm—if you don't want—"
She looked up at him. Met his eyes. Never stopped sucking.
The message was clear: Give me everything.
Sol's restraint shattered. His fingers tightened in her hair, and he thrust—once, twice—and then he was cumming. Spurt, spurt, spuuurt! Salty and bitter and somehow exactly what she'd wanted.
Iuno swallowed convulsively. Except upon the fifth rope of cum, she was overpowered. "Mmggghh—!" Too much volume, too much thickness, too much everything. Cum spilled from the corners of her lips, dripped down her chin, splattered onto the front of her dress. She tried to swallow it all—tried desperately, tried valiantly—but there was just so fucking much.
"Sol," Iuno gasped, pulling off, a strand of saliva and cum connecting her lips to his cock. "Sol, shooo muhhc!!"
"I know." He was breathing hard, his chest heaving. "Heh, sorry, I should have warned you, I—"
"Don't apologize." Iuno wiped her chin with the back of her hand, then licked her fingers clean. Her eyes never left his. "That was the hottest thing that's ever happened to me~!"
'And I mean it. I mean every fucking word. I've seen the future in moonlight and none of it compares to this.'
Sol stared down at her for one heartbeat.
Meanwhile, she was eye-level with his cock.
"Mwah!"
Iuno kissed the tip of his cock.
Then he was on her.
His hands found the neckline of her dress and pulled, and the fabric and tore it. "I'll buy you a new one," he muttered against her collarbone, and then his mouth was on her breast, tongue circling her nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make her arch off the bed.
"Sol!! Mmmpppoh!" He kissed and kissed, from her neck to her collarbone to her lips. He was a lover, alright, with a big dick to boot. She could feel rub her stomach. "Nnggggh~!"
"How long?" He moved to the other breast, gave it the same treatment. "How long have you been walking around my café with these—" kiss, "—fucking perfect—" bite, "—tits hidden under that dress?"
"Mmpgggh! Y-you're such a perv!"
"Mm." He sat up, surveyed her. The torn dress barely covered anything now. His cock was still hard and already leaking again. "Take it off. I want to see all of you."
"Haah…haah…" A glance at his cock. Iuno smirked. "So…I do all that to you?"
"You do."
Proudly and cockily, she shimmied out of the ruined dress. She kicked off her heels and lay back in nothing but the golden bracelets she'd forgotten to remove. The moonlight from the window shined on her tits and pussylips. Her twin-tail hair spilled on the mattress.
Glorious cunt, beautiful C-cup tits, pink lips, and dark aqua hair in pigtails.
Sol looked at her like she was the most sacred thing in the world.
"You're beautiful," he said. "You know that, right? You have to know that."
Iuno did know. She'd been told a thousand times by a thousand people who wanted something from her. But when Sol said it—when Sol said it with his cock hard and his voice raw and his eyes holding nothing but adoration—it meant something different.
"Show me," Iuno said again. "Show me what you've been wanting to do."
The head of his cock pressed against her entrance. Even that first contact made her breath catch. She was wet—soaking wet, dripping down her thighs, her pussy ready like never before—but the sheer size of him made her tense.
"Easy," Sol murmured. "Look at me. Look at my eyes."
She did. Brown and warm and patient. Always so fucking patient.
"Breathe. Just breathe. I'm going to—"
The first inch pushed inside. Iuno's vision went white. Oh my god, she couldn't believe. All this divine strength and…it didn't matter. Her vision actually whited out, her back arched clean off the mattress, and a sound tore from her throat that was nothing like any sound she'd ever made before. Her cunt clamped down around him—just the head, just the barest fucking fraction of his length—and Iuno orgasmed.
Hard.
Shatteringly hard.
The orgasm ripped through her like a tempest, like the moon itself had fallen from the sky and landed directly in her core. Her fingers clawed at Sol's shoulders. Her legs locked around his waist. She found her voice after several seconds, emerging as a ragged, desperate cry.
"SOL~!!!"
"That was the first five inches." She could hear the effort it was taking. Was…was her pussy really tight? "Are you—should I—"
"More. Fucking more. All of it. Now."
He pushed deeper.
Seven inches. Eight, nine…!
"Oh SOOLL~!!!"
Each increment sent another wave through her, smaller aftershocks that kept her teetering on the edge of something cataclysmic. Her pussy stretched to accommodate him—tight, so fucking tight, gripping him like her body was trying to memorize the shape of his cock.
"So fucking tight," Sol groaned. "Iuno, you're so fucking tight! I can't…!"
"Don't you dare stop."
She felt full. Impossibly, gloriously full. Like he was reaching places inside her that had never been touched, never been explored, never even knew they existed. Her inner walls fluttered around him, spasmed, tried desperately to adjust to the invasion.
"Almost there," he breathed. "Almost all the way in. You're taking me so well. You're doing so good, Iuno, you're—"
The final inch seated.
They both went still.
Perfectly, absolutely still.
Iuno could feel him in her throat. Could feel him in her stomach. Could feel him everywhere, filling every empty space she'd ever carried, pressing against a spot that made spots dance in her vision.
"M-m-moove…! Moooove!!" Iuno cried out like a drunken cow. "Nggggh! Soool~!!"
Sol withdrew—just a few inches, just enough to make her whimper at the loss—and then thrust back in.
The world tilted on its axis.
"Unhhhh! CUMMIIING!!"
Slam, slam, slam! "Won't hold back!"
"D-d-dooon't!! DON'T!!"
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuck! That was the extent of Iuno's thoughts. Each stroke hit that same devastating spot, each withdrawal making her clench desperately to keep him inside.
The sounds she was making too…
'I-I can't recognize myself—!'
"THIS COCK IS TOO GOOOOD~!!"
Iuno was a priestess. She was not supposed to be a whore at night. She had dignity, dammit!
"BEST COCK, BEST COCCK! I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS COCCCK!!"
What about it? What about being a priestess? What about her rules and laws and her ego? She couldn't stop them. Didn't want to stop them. Moans spilled from her lips like prayers, each one louder than the last.
"Yes, yes, right THERE~!! YES, Sol, RIGHT THERE—"
"Louder." He snapped his hips forward. "I want the neighbors to know my name!"
"SOL—"
"Again."
"S O L—"
The first twenty thrusts had her addicted. No—not twenty. She'd lost count by ten. By fifteen, she was trembling on the edge of another orgasm, her cunt wound so tight that the slightest touch might shatter her. By twenty, Iuno was gone.
Lost.
His.
PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—!
That fat nutsack sounded lewd too! God, was there nothing he didn't have!? A big cock and fat balls…!
"You're, ghhggghh! I'm—!!" She couldn't form sentences and couldn't form thoughts. Her world had narrowed to the feeling of his cock driving into her pussy! "SOOLLLLHHFSHSHH!!"
He kissed her. Deep and messy and uncoordinated, his tongue sliding against hers in the same rhythm as his thrusts. Balls-deep, her cunt convulsing around him, and he kept pumping—kept fucking into her even as she felt him stiffen and felt the telltale pulse that meant…!
"I'm going to come," he gasped against her mouth. "Inside you. I'm going to fill you up, Iuno, is that—"
"YES!! DO IT AND FILL ME UP!!"
Sloppy kisses between them. Sloppy and needy. These two were insufferably lewd and in-love. His hips stuttered. And then cream flooded her insides as Sol emptied himself into her cunt, pulse after pulse after pulse, his cock buried to the hilt, his forehead pressed to hers. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…!"
His breath coming in broken gasps. He could not longer kiss her with tongue.
Iuno felt every spurt. Every hot, thick rope of cum painting her inner walls. There was so much of it too much for her body to contain. It leaked out around him, dripped down her thighs, pooled on the sheets beneath them.
He didn't pull out.
He stayed there, inside her, softening but still substantial, while their breathing slowly steadied.
"That was..." Iuno trailed off. There weren't words. There had never been words for that.
"Yeah." Sol kissed her forehead. "Yeah, it was."
"I didn't know it could feel like that."
"Neither did I." He shifted, and the movement made them both gasp. "Iuno?"
"Mm?"
"I'm not done."
Iuno looked up at him. His eyes had that hungry look again. That look that said he'd been waiting months for this and one round wasn't nearly enough.
"Heh, you want to keep going?"
He answered by grinning and throwing one leg over his shoulder. "E-eh?" Her body turned to the side, her hip pressed against his stomach, her cunt exposed and still dripping with his cum. He was impossibly, wonderfully hard and he thrust back inside with a slick, obscene sound.
"Unnhhh! S-Soolll!!" This was a whine of his name. Lengthy and pathetic. "Unhhhh! Oh godssssss!!"
Thrust, thrust, thrust!
Her gray-blue eyes rolled back.
This angle was different. Deeper, somehow. The curve of his cock hit a spot that made her shout, made her dig her nails into his arm, made her second—third? Fourth?—roll into her cunt and toes.
"You like that?" He rolled his hips in a slow grind.
'Like it? LIKE it? I'm going to fucking die from liking it~!!'
Liked being fucked on her side…did he not realize how good he was in bed? Her only response was a moan that cracked in the middle and became a shriek.
"AAAH!! NGGGGH!! SOOOLLL, CUMMIIING~!!"
"That's it. Let it out. Let everyone hear you."
Faster. Harder.
The wet sounds of their fucking grew louder, lewder, his cum and her slick combining to create a mess that she'd be finding evidence of for days. Her modest breasts bounced with every thrust, her hair—fanned out across his pillow—stuck to her forehead and her neck, and she was making sounds she'd never imagined a person could make.
"CUMMING, CUMMIING! CUMMING!!"
Shrieks. Wails. High-pitched keening noises that dissolved into broken syllables of his name.
"SOL, SOLLHSHSHH! SOOOLLLLSHSHH! SOCCHHHH~!!"
For an ungodly time, she sent her spiraling into an orgasm that made her vision white out for the second time that night. Her cunt clamped down on him like a fist, milking his cock, demanding his cum—
Spurt, spuuurt!
And he gave it to her.
He always gave her exactly what she needed.
"I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU AND THIS COCCCCK~!!"
This load was just as copious as the first, just as hot, just as overwhelming. It mixed with the remnants of his earlier release, dripped out of her, soaked into the mattress. Neither of them cared.
He ended up pulling out to kiss her. His leg over her hips, her leg over his, they were a mish-mash of love.
Neither of them could possibly care about anything except each other.
***
Hours passed. Or minutes. Time had lost all meaning in the candlelit cocoon of Sol's bedroom.
They'd fucked again.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"DON'T CHANGE, DON'T CHANGE!! I'M CUMMING! OHH, I'M CUMMIIING!"
Backshots to her toned ass. It wobbled and rippled, while he tugged on her hair. The headboard hit the room wall hard. A neighbour next door yelled, "Keep it down!"
Sol tugged on her hair to bring her head back. "Iuno?" he asked innocently. He was met with a grinning Iuno. There was feverish intensity in those blue eyes of her ears.
In other words, they had the same thought.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"KEEP FUCKING ME, KEEP FUCKING ME, KEEP MAKING ME CUUUM~!!"
Sol and Iuno ignored their neighbours and they continued their loud, obnoxious night of heated youth.
"This ass…!" Smack! It was pale and toned. Peachy too! "Way too good to pass up!"
"AND THIS COCCCK!! TOO GREAT TO PASS UP! F-FATE! FATE DECREES IT SO!!"
Corny…yet accurate.
Throughout the hours, they went through different positions, at different rhythms, with different intensities. She'd ridden him until her thighs gave out. He'd taken her from behind until she was sobbing into the pillow. They'd paused for water—briefly, breathlessly—and then fallen back into each other.
Now, sometime in the deep hours of the night, they'd found a new configuration.
"Unh! Unh! Love you, Iuno!"
"Hehe~! I know!"
Iuno was propped against his headboard, pillows under her. Her magnificent breasts were pushed together by her own hands. Sol knelt over her, his cock sliding between the valley she'd created, the head emerging from the top of her cleavage with every thrust.
These tits and this act, did Iuno know how many times men imagined this? How many times Sol did? Sleepless nights because of that slutty gap in her outfit…
"Tell me." Iuno squeezed them tighter around his shaft, watched his eyes roll back. "Tell me what you thought about."
"Thought about—" He thrust and groaned. "Thought about this. Exactly this. Fucking your perfect tits. Covering them in my cum. Watching you smile while I did it."
"Heh, I am smiling."
Sol looked at her face. There, he saw a wide, satisfied, utterly debauched smile that she'd never worn in the temple, never worn in public, never worn for anyone but him.
Fuck, she loved this. She actually loved this.
"Mm…" Faster and faster. Her tits were not huge. She was not overly stacked. That didn't mean she was as flat as a board. "I love your cock. I love the way it feels between my tits. I love the weight of it. I love the way it looks when it's covered in my spit and your cum. I love—" She tilted her head down, let her tongue flick out to catch the head as it emerged from her cleavage. "I love the way you taste."
That broke him.
"Cumming!" His hips jerked erratically, lost their rhythm, and then thick ropes of cum spurted across her face and her throat. Iuno giggled. She kept her mouth open, caught some of it on her tongue, swallowed it down while looking directly into his eyes.
The rest dripped down her breasts in slow, lazy rivulets.
Iuno didn't wipe it away.
She just lay there, covered in him, smiling that smile.
"I love you," Iuno said. "I love you so fucking much, Sol."
Foreheads touched. He didn't care for the mess. "I love you too. I've loved you since you insulted my tea."
"I didn't insult your tea."
"You implied it wouldn't cure your gout. That's a tea insult."
"It's not a tea insult if it's true." They rolled over. She was on her side, as was he. "I could stay here forever."
"Then stay."
"I can't." The words ached coming out. "You know I can't. The temple—"
"The temple can wait." His arm tightened around her. "The temple can wait one more night. The temple can wait one more morning. The temple can fucking wait until you're ready to go back."
He meant it. The most important religious institution in Septimont and he was telling it to wait.
She kissed his chest. "One more night, then."
"One more night." He kissed the top of her head. "And then I'll make you breakfast."
"You're going to make me breakfast with pigeon eggs from your roof."
"Absolutely not. The pigeon is my friend. I would never steal her eggs."
"You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
She did. She really, really did.
***
The couple slept for hours. Technically one could classify it as a short slumber, caused by a wrung-out nutsack and sore pussy. The candles burned down. The moon shifted its position in the sky. The first hints of gray light began to creep through the window.
Iuno stirred first.
She looked at Sol beside her. Mouth slightly open, hair a complete disaster, one arm still draped possessively over her waist. She mewled. Iuno felt something dangerous and wonderful swell in her chest.
'I...'
No one remembered her, not really. She was but a figment, an up-and-coming prodigy that was gaining power. What would her future look like now that she had slept with a man?
''I'm going to figure this out. The temple, the politics, the being a seer while also being a woman in love.' Iuno's hand touched Sol's wrist. 'I-I'm going to figure all of it out. Because I'm not giving this up. I'm not giving him up.'
A prodigy priestess like her was not supposed to be in-love, to have sex and shriek about it. Well, screw the rules!
Iuno slipped out of bed and found her torn dress on the floor. She considered it for a moment, then dropped it. The dress was ruined. Everything was ruined. Her reputation, her dignity, her carefully constructed walls—all of it lay in tatters around this cozy bedroom, and she couldn't bring herself to care.
Instead, she found Sol's tunic. She pulled it over her head. It smelled like coffee and cinnamon and him.
"Heh."
Iuno snuck out to make him breakfast. Mostly naked, pussy out, and in a shirt. She…struggled to find his stuff though. "Iuno, come on, what are you doing idiot!?"
She was a little dizzy from the sex, perhaps. She should know this! She went to his house every day, god dammit!
Thwap, thwap, thwap!
Which was why when Sol arrived, Iuno turned and gasped a little. "O-oh! Sol! Oh my god, y-your penis! It swings!
Sol looked down between his legs, then at her. He snickered. "And you're in my kitchen, naked."
"O-oh. Right. True." Iuno straightened herself. "S-sorry, was trying to make breakfast and, uh…"
They fell silent. Her eyes glued to his penis, and him to her cunt. Slowly, their eye contact gravitated up until there was actual eye contact. Sol smiled, Iuno ran forward, and they hugged.
This was the definition of a happily ever after. Iuno never thought she'd get it.