"But if it is the rain I have to thank for the pleasure of your company," Circe said, "then why should I ever return? It would make things much easier, pretty Priya, if you would join me sometime. You might even like it." She sipped at her tea, but her eyes continued to smile.
Priya was, in all likelihood, the most beautiful woman on Muskaptilo. Circe had no lack of confidence, but she was also capable of being objective about some things. Things like eyes the color of oja buds, or hair like color-changing silk. She could recite poetry about Priya's lips. And had, much to Arjun's chagrin, when they'd been young and poetry had seemed like a good idea. She'd had no shortage of lovers since then, almost all of them mainland women, but she still had a soft spot for Priya.
Even if she was fairly sure that Priya would rather kiss a frog. Only if doing so was likely to teach her something.
"Shall I deliver you a carpenter?" she suggested. The last member of the Bohu family had died some years ago, and no one had reclaimed the name since; everyone managed well enough on their own, but it was still a concern. "What kind would you like? Tall, dark, and handsome? Or perhaps you would prefer a gentleman fair, all blue eyes and blonde hair and broad shoulders. He'd never fear for burning, when we haven't any sun." These specifications neglected that she would be bringing her a carpenter, and not a husband. "I am sure he will be delighted to tend to your complaints."
Circe, however, would not. That sounded like the sort of manual labor that she had successfully managed to avoid by becoming a sky pirate instead.
"I shall send you letters with pressed flowers, then, and you must wear them in your hair with ribbons so I know that you still pine for me." She took a drag from her pipe, inhaling for a frankly astonishing amount of time before letting smoke billow about her face.
Priya was, in all likelihood, the most beautiful woman on Muskaptilo. Circe had no lack of confidence, but she was also capable of being objective about some things. Things like eyes the color of oja buds, or hair like color-changing silk. She could recite poetry about Priya's lips. And had, much to Arjun's chagrin, when they'd been young and poetry had seemed like a good idea. She'd had no shortage of lovers since then, almost all of them mainland women, but she still had a soft spot for Priya.
Even if she was fairly sure that Priya would rather kiss a frog. Only if doing so was likely to teach her something.
"Shall I deliver you a carpenter?" she suggested. The last member of the Bohu family had died some years ago, and no one had reclaimed the name since; everyone managed well enough on their own, but it was still a concern. "What kind would you like? Tall, dark, and handsome? Or perhaps you would prefer a gentleman fair, all blue eyes and blonde hair and broad shoulders. He'd never fear for burning, when we haven't any sun." These specifications neglected that she would be bringing her a carpenter, and not a husband. "I am sure he will be delighted to tend to your complaints."
Circe, however, would not. That sounded like the sort of manual labor that she had successfully managed to avoid by becoming a sky pirate instead.
"I shall send you letters with pressed flowers, then, and you must wear them in your hair with ribbons so I know that you still pine for me." She took a drag from her pipe, inhaling for a frankly astonishing amount of time before letting smoke billow about her face.
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