Dinner ended the way it usually did in that house, which was to say with too much noise, too much sarcasm, and at least one threat of violence that was not entirely unserious.
Kaelith had ordered food in the end because, according to her, "the kitchen deserved a night off from your collective incompetence," and Neris had responded by listing the twelve ways Kaelith had nearly burned broth the last time she cooked. Aliyah had contributed by stealing the best fried dumplings off both their plates while they argued.
It had been nice.
Annoying, loud, deeply invasive, but nice.
By the time the table was cleared and the sun had dropped low enough to stain the sky in streaks of amber and violet, Aliyah felt that familiar restlessness settle under her skin. It happened most nights.
If she stayed inside too long after dinner, her thoughts started circling too much, and that was dangerous. It led to self-pity, dramatic conclusions, and once, memorably, an impulse haircut.
So, like usual, she went for a walk.
Their townhouse sat on a quiet street just beyond the main campus, close enough to hear the distant hum of the university at night when the wind turned right.
Aliyah crossed the front gate and started down the path with her hands tucked into the sleeves of her light outer robe. The air was cool and pleasant.
Her heels clicked softly against the stone.
She tried not to think about Scarlett.
That lasted a full thirty seconds.
Princess.
Aliyah grimaced at herself.
It was stupid that one word had rooted itself in her head. Stupid that she kept replaying Scarlett leaning close in class, Scarlett's rough low voice, Scarlett smiling like she knew exactly what she was doing every second of the day. The woman flirted like breathing was optional but seduction was not.
Aliyah should have known better.
Women like that were dangerous.
Women like that were also, unfortunately, very hot.
She turned a corner near the row of silverleaf trees and nearly walked straight into someone.
No, not nearly.
She did.
She hit a hard body chest-first, lost her footing on the stone, and the world tilted sharply.
Aliyah had just enough time to think shit before a pair of strong arms caught her.
One hand closed around her waist.
The other braced at the middle of her back.
Her breath caught.
"Well," said a low familiar voice right above her, warm with amusement, "nice to see you again."
Aliyah looked up.
Scarlett.
Of course it was Scarlett.
She was wearing a dark fitted shirt with the top few buttons open, black trousers tucked into heavy boots, and a short jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders.
Her purple hair was slightly messy, like she had run a hand through it a few times. One red eye and one black eye watched Aliyah with lazy delight.
Aliyah realized, with horror, that Scarlett had not let go of her.
Not even slightly.
"You," Aliyah said intelligently.
Scarlett's mouth curved. "Me."
Aliyah became aware of Scarlett's hand at her waist. Large. Warm. Steady. Entirely too comfortable.
"You can put me down," she said, because dignity was still technically available.
Scarlett glanced down at the way Aliyah was half-balanced against her. "Can I?"
Aliyah opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Scarlett's grin widened just a little.
Then, very slowly, like she was being generous rather than predatory, she eased Aliyah fully upright.
Except her hand stayed on Aliyah's waist a second longer than necessary, fingers spreading lightly over the fabric, thumb brushing once in a way that made Aliyah's spine go too straight.
There was no reason for a thumb to feel smug.
Scarlett stepped back half an inch.
"What are you doing out here alone?" Scarlett asked.
"Walking."
"That explains the walking."
Aliyah stared at her. "Do you always talk like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're making fun of me and flirting at the same time."
Scarlett tilted her head, considering. "Yes."
Aliyah should have been offended.
Instead, to her everlasting irritation, she felt the edge of a smile trying to happen.
Scarlett noticed.
"There," Scarlett murmured. "That one. I like that smile better."
Aliyah folded her arms, mostly to give herself something to do with them. "You say things like that to every woman?"
"No."
She said it easily. Calmly. Without hesitation.
Aliyah hated how much that answer pleased her.
The lantern-light caught on Scarlett's jaw as she looked her over, openly enough to make it impossible to ignore.
Aliyah had been looked at by plenty of people before. Men, especially, had always been obvious about it.
This felt different.
Scarlett looked at her like she had already decided Aliyah was worth her full attention.
That was somehow much worse.
"So," Scarlett said, eyes dropping briefly to the embroidered edge of Aliyah's robe before rising again, "you always walk around looking this pretty at night, or is this a special occasion?"
Aliyah laughed once in disbelief. "You flirt hard."
"I can flirt harder."
Something in Scarlett's tone made the air feel suddenly warmer.
Aliyah lifted her chin. "That sounds like a threat."
Scarlett stepped a little closer again. "Would you like it to be?"
Aliyah's heart gave one violent thud.
She had never in her life met a woman so committed to trouble.
And the worst part, the truly humiliating part, was that Scarlett was not even doing too much. She was just there, close enough that if Aliyah moved forward just slightly, she would be in Scarlett's space for real.
Instead she said, because survival mattered, "You enjoy making people nervous."
Scarlett smiled, slower this time. "Only the ones I like."
Aliyah swallowed.
That should have been impossible. She was not a schoolgirl. She was twenty-three. She had been disappointed by romance so many times she should have built immunity by now.
Apparently immunity had not accounted for dragon women with tattoos and shameless mouths.
To distract herself, she asked, "What are you doing out here?"
Scarlett leaned one shoulder against the low garden wall beside the path, still too close. "Walking."
Aliyah narrowed her eyes.
Scarlett laughed. "Fine. I was heading back from the city quarter. Needed a few things."
"What things?"
"Boot polish. A knife strap. And a woman to run into dramatically, apparently."
Aliyah snorted before she could help it.
Scarlett looked pleased with herself.
For a few moments they walked side by side more slowly down the path, the lanterns casting gold light over the stones.
Their shoulders nearly brushed once. Then again. Aliyah could not tell if Scarlett was doing it on purpose.
Actually, no. She could.
Scarlett was absolutely doing it on purpose.
"So," Aliyah said, forcing herself to sound normal, "you said you transferred here for better training and connections."
"Mm."
"And to become a royal guard."
Scarlett's expression shifted a little at that. Not colder. Just more real.
"Yeah."
Aliyah glanced at her. "I still don't picture you standing quietly in polished armor."
Scarlett smiled faintly. "That's because you're picturing the ceremonial version. I'm interested in the real one. Protection detail. Field response. High-risk assignments." She shoved one hand into her pocket. "And the pay."
Aliyah shook her head. "You're very honest about that."
Scarlett glanced at her sideways. "Should I lie and pretend it's all noble purpose and patriotic devotion?"
"You come from a noble family right? Aren't you supposed to be good at pretending?"
That made Scarlett laugh, but it was shorter this time.
"My family's noble," she said. "That doesn't mean I like them."
Aliyah looked at her properly.
Scarlett kept her eyes on the path ahead as she spoke, voice lower now, less teasing. "Old blood. Old money. Old rules. Too many expectations." She tapped one black-painted nail against the wall as they walked.
"Everything was about appearances. About marrying well. Representing the family properly. Behaving like I belonged in a portrait."
Aliyah could picture it too easily. Scarlett in some grand house, surrounded by sharp smiles and political conversations, expected to become something polished and acceptable.
It felt wrong.
"You didn't want that," Aliyah said.
Scarlett finally looked at her again. "No. I wanted my own money. My own name. My own choices."
There was something hard under the words. Something earned.
For the first time since meeting her, Aliyah saw past the flirtation and the swagger to the shape of the woman underneath.
Scarlett was not just playing at rebellion because it was fashionable. She had fought for distance. For freedom. Maybe for herself.
That made her even more attractive, which frankly felt unfair.
Aliyah said softly, "That makes sense."
Scarlett held her gaze for a beat too long. "You're easy to talk to."
Aliyah nearly laughed. "That would be a first."
"No," Scarlett said, stepping closer again under the glow of the nearest lantern. "I think people probably talk to you all the time. I'm just the first one smart enough to realize how dangerous that is."
Aliyah's breath caught again.
Scarlett lifted a hand, slow enough to give her time to move away, and tucked a loose strand of black hair behind Aliyah's ear. Her fingers brushed the shell of her ear, then traced lightly along the line of her jaw before falling away.
It was barely a touch.
It felt like one anyway.
Aliyah stood very still.
Scarlett's eyes dropped to her mouth for the second time that day.
When she spoke, her voice was rougher, quieter.
"You blush beautifully, princess."