The Veiled Descendants

by Sophia Menesini

  ​She grips his chin in between her fingers. “If you ever do this again, I will thrash you myself. Is that understood?”

  ​His eyes widen, and she knows the moment he realizes she’s serious.

  He wets his bottom lip and swallows. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jo nods with finality. “Good.”

  She finishes putting the salve on his back and then tells him to sit up so she can place the bandages and wrap the gauze.

  He does as he’s told immediately, and Jo smirks at the compliance.

  “Are you going to tell Shea?” he asks as she starts wrapping the gauze after placing the bandages correctly.

  She starts with wrapping it around his left shoulder and peck and then begins to wrap it around his middle. She doesn’t answer, not yet. Instead as she’s wrapping the gauze her mind starts to spin.

  Had this been worse, he could have died.

  Shea could have lost another person in her life; someone she even possibly loves as much as she loves Jo.

  And it’s not like Jo doesn’t care for him. Beck is her friend, someone who knows what it’s like to have to lead a country, to lose things most people never will, and he knows what it’s like to love Shea, the fear, the excitement.

  He is the closest thing she has to a confidant and ally. All this time Jo has looked at the future in the most positive light, but what if they all die upon arriving in Arethusa tomorrow? What if Beck is the first person Perses kills?

  How will Jo react? How will Shea? She doesn’t want to leave this world with any what-ifs, and she certainly doesn’t want Beck and Shea to.

  But is she really willing to do this, to allow what she’s thinking to happen? She’d have to talk to Nol about precautions, but if this voyage is the very last time they may all be together and relatively safe? Then at least they’d leave this world knowing if all of their decisions were the right ones.

  “No,” Jo tells him, making her decision, and Beck seems to deflate with relief. “You’re going to tell her tonight.”

  “What?” Beck inquires, staring at her in horror.

  “Yes, you’ll come to our quarters, tonight after supper. And I will track you down if you do not appear. Understood?”

  “Jo…” Beck groans, wiping a hand down his face, and then gasping when Jo ties the bandage off harshly.

  “Am I clear?”

  “Perfectly,” Beck croaks.

  “Now,” Jo stands with the bloody water bowl and jar of salve. “How do you feel?”

  Beck rolls his shoulders a little, wincing slightly, but his coloring is much better already.

  “Better,” he states, smiling softly up at her.

  “Excellent. I have work to do, and you will not be working today.” She holds up her hand when he tries to object. “If you work, the wound will open and bleed. Stay put. You can go to the galley for dinner and then I’ll see you at Shea’s quarters after. Right?”

  Beck nods sullenly.

  ​Jo makes her way to the door, stopping when she opens it. “Oh and, Beck?”

  ​Beck looks up at her, and for a moment, she almost laughs. He looks so young suddenly.

  They all are, really—young. She pictures that young face, bloodied, with wide eyes unseeing, and it hardens her resolve.

  ​“Don’t be late.”

  ***

  Jo is just finishing a chapter of an old manuscript she found in one of the piles of Shea’s treasure hoards in the corner of the chambers, when Shea stumbles in looking exhausted.

  Jo has a steaming bowl of stew waiting for her at the desk where she’s sitting, reading an old tale from long ago. A tragic love story, meddling gods, and a world that forgets them all. The irony of their situation is almost poetic.

  She places the illuminated pages aside and gets up to greet her partner, offering her the chair on the other side of the desk.

  “I’m starving, thanks, love,” Shea mutters, digging into the food.

  Jo kisses the top of her head and returns to the other side of the table to sit. They talk about their day, Jo not mentioning Beck and his injury at all—she’ll leave that to him. She looks toward the windows as Shea finishes, and if Beck does as he’s told, he’ll be coming soon if the moonlight is anything to go by.

  “Strom never fails to impress.” Shea chuckles, a bit of energy returning to her now that she’s eaten.

  “Would you like some wine?” Jo asks, standing up to get a glass.

  Shea nods, staring fixedly at Jo with a creased brow.

  Jo walks back over with the glasses and catches her curious expression. “What?”

  “Something’s up,” Shea states, looking around the room.

  She stands from where she’s sitting and advances toward Jo. She stops in front of her with her hands on her hips.

  “What’s going on?” Shea inquires.

  “Nothing,” Jo responds quickly, moving past her to place the filled wineglasses down.

  Shea steps up behind her, and Jo turns, looking down into those fiery green eyes.

  “I can’t put my finger on it, but something is bothering you. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” Jo laughs, waving off Shea’s concern.

  Jo sits down, amused, watching as Shea starts to pace.

  “You’re fine? Hmm, so is someone else not fine? Is it Aster?” Shea stops moving, turning to her worriedly.

  Jo straightens in her seat and looks at Shea seriously. “No. He’s fine. Don’t worry, everything will be explained soon.”

  “Right…Now I’m worrying,” Shea gripes and goes back to pacing.

  ​A knock sounds at the door.

  Shea looks over at Jo and takes a step to go and open it, but Jo gets up and runs to the door before her wife can get there.

  ​She opens the door, and finds a nervous Beck, practically wringing his hands. She gestures for him to come in and when Shea spots him, her face pales.

  She looks him over, vivid concern on her features.

  ​Jo steps away, watching as Shea moves quickly toward him. She takes his face between her palms, searching his eyes.

  ​“What’s wrong? What happened?” Shea panics, her hand falling to his shoulder, and he winces at the touch.

  ​Shea’s eyes dart to his left shoulder and then to his face, her eyes narrowing.

  Jo is watching the exchange, more amused than anything else. She realizes she’s not jealous in the slightest.

  ​“I knew it,” Shea whispers, “take it off.”

  ​“Shea,” Beck sighs.

  ​“Now,” Shea orders, and Beck looks back at Jo as if for permission.

  ​Shea follows his gaze and when her eyes land on Jo, she startles. She must have forgotten she was in the room with them. Shea steps back suddenly, like Beck’s touch has burned her, and her ears and cheeks color. She looks ashamed.

  Jo will have none of that.

  ​She crosses the room to her wife, wrapping her arms around her middle and kissing the side of her face. She whispers into her pointed ear, “It’s alright. Truly.”

  ​And then she looks up at Beck.

  ​“Do as she says,” Jo tells him.

  ​Beck looks up at the ceiling, like he’s hoping for divine intervention, but no help comes, and so he gently removes his jacket. He’s wearing the same bloody peasant shirt, and Jo curses, remembering that she forgot to find him a new top.

  She files that away for later. Jo removes herself from Shea but remains at her side, holding her hand.

  ​Beck carefully takes off his shirt, exposing the white bandages underneath. Jo turns to watch Shea’s expression now as she sees the bandages, and she notices Shea’s eyes are wet.

  It confirms for Jo that she’s making the right decision. She feels even more confident, all that will be left is convincing them it’s alright.

  ​Shea steps forward hesitantly to where Beck is standing awkwardly, and Jo pushes her toward him.

  Beck catches her with a grunt and Shea straigh
tens abruptly, turning back to glare at Jo, who shrugs with a soft smile.

  ​Shea goes back to examining him, and she pushes at his right shoulder for him to turn around. Her coarse but small hands caress his injured back and there’s a little blood from where the bandage is protecting the wound.

  Jo will need to change those soon.

  ​“The Merrow, when you were on the ground?” Shea asks.

  ​Beck nods. “I’m sorry.”

  ​“I can’t believe Nol didn’t tell me,” Shea growls.

  ​“Nol doesn’t know,” Jo tells her.

  ​Shea looks back at Jo, confused.

  ​“You dressed the wound? Why didn’t you tell me?” Shea asks, her voice taking on a sharp edge.

  ​“She didn’t know until this morning,” Beck objects.

  ​Shea turns her attention back to him.

  ​“Wait, I’m sorry, you’ve been walking around with a major gash in your back for almost two days and you just this morning got it dressed?”

  ​“Yes,” Beck responds nervously.

  ​“What the bloody Underdeep were you thinking? It could have gotten infected; you might have needed stitches! How did Poseidon not notice, you two share a room.” Shea shouts, berating Beck for his stupidity.

  ​The governor looks to Jo for help, but she doesn’t intervene—he’s earned this.

  ​“Well?” Shea growls.

  ​“I may have slept on a cot in the storage bay to avoid any questions,” Beck explains, and Shea smacks him on the head in response.

  ​“Ow!”

  ​“Do you know how hard an infection would have been to get rid of? To know you didn’t die by some creature but something that could have been easily fixed, or you could have bled out and we would have found your body days later being chewed on by the rats,” Shea’s voice is thick with emotion, and Jo can’t see it, but she thinks she might be crying.

  ​“I can’t do that. I can’t lose anyone else right now. I can’t fucking lose you!”

  ​“I’m sorry,” Beck says, tears falling as well. “I was trying to save you the pain.”

  ​“Well that certainly backfired!”

  ​Jo can see Shea’s shoulders shaking—the stress of Orena, her losses finally catching up to her—and she takes a step toward them.

  Beck puts his hands on Shea’s shoulders, trying to comfort her.

  ​“You should kiss her.”

  ​There’s a choking noise, and Shea turns to face Jo.

  Beck looks up as well, and the queen stares back at them, amused by their shocked faces.

  ​“What?” Beck whispers.

  ​“I said, you should kiss her. You’re sorry, aren’t you?”

  ​“Jo,” Shea exclaims.

  ​But Jo cuts her off, “Aren’t you?”

  ​“Yes,” Beck tells her.

  ​“You love her, as I do?”

  ​“Yes.”

  ​“You love him as you love me?” Jo directs her question at Shea, who has stepped away from Beck.

  ​“Jo, what is this?”

  ​Jo chuckles softly to herself. She looks down at her hands, joined together, and then meets Shea’s questioning gaze with complete honesty.

  ​“I am not confident we’re going to survive what’s next.”

  ​Shea and Beck both open their mouths to object, but again Jo stops them.

  ​“Please let me finish. I love you, Shea. I am secure, and safe, and…marvelously happy with our relationship. And I know you are too; I don’t have any doubts or questions. I know you love me…and I know you love him. But if we’re not going to survive? If we’re going to die in Arethusa, come the next few days? Then our plans for the future are forfeit. And I don’t want any of us going to the underworld with questions or regrets. So, I’m asking the two of you to forget with me tonight. To answer a question and not worry about the consequences. Because I’ll be happy to deal with it if we survive.”

  ​Shea and Beck are gaping at Jo in surprise; neither look sure of how to respond.

  ​“And I’m not saying we have to, and if you don’t want to…”

  ​Beck remains quiet, and she can tell he’s refusing to voice his say. He’s waiting for Shea’s response instead.

  ​“Jo. I am…I don’t know what I am, but the faith you have in me is…extraordinary. I—” Shea shuts her mouth, shaking her head.

  ​Jo encourages her to say it, walking the rest of the way to her, taking her wife’s hands in her own.

  ​“It’s okay. You want it?”

  ​A tear falls, and Shea’s voice cracks, “Gods help me I do, I’m sorry.”

  ​“Shea,” Jo soothes, “I’m asking. I’m telling you it’s okay. And I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m okay with this. I care about Beck,” Jo tells her, looking to him.

  He smiles at her.

  ​“I’m okay with this,” Jo states, casting her gaze between them both.

  ​“The question is, do you want to do this?”

  ​Shea takes an unsteady breath and looks up at Beck as he waits for her response.

  “Yes.”

  Jo smiles.

  “Beck?”

  “Don’t really want to sound too eager here,” Beck mumbles. “I want to, of course I do,” he says, but takes a step back away from Jo and Shea.

  “But…we can’t take the risk.”

  “What do you mean?” Jo asks.

  Shea is looking at him, confused as well.

  His resigned expression changes into wide eyes and he looks between them both.

  “We can’t risk Shea ending up with a child. Not now,” Beck explains, like it’s obvious.

  Jo giggles as realization filters in and Shea smirks.

  “What?” Beck asks, affronted.

  “There are ways around that.” Jo laughs.

  “Nol has made me morning-after elixirs before—before Jo and all this. I’d just drink it tomorrow, and it would prevent the conception of a child.”

  Beck gasps. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Yes well, men don’t traditionally have to deal with these situations,” Jo murmurs, teasingly.

  “So then are we doing this?” Beck stutters. “Um, this may sound like a stupid question but how are we doing this?”

  “Are you a…virgin?” Shea asks, taking his hand in hers.

  “Well, no, I mean I have experience with girls,” Beck starts to explain, but Jo can see right through him.

  “But not enough to know about contraceptives, otherwise there’d already be little Becks running around. Are there little Becks running around?” Jo inquires.

  “No!” Beck yells, before quieting his voice. “No. I’ve…been with women…just, not all the way.”

  Jo giggles at Beck’s blush, which travels down his neck almost to his chest.

  “Oh dear,” Jo whispers.

  Shea squeezes Beck’s hand. “That’s okay. I don’t mind taking the lead. Although, would you be comfortable with Jo in the room?”

  Beck looks slightly surprised at the question, and nods very quickly. “Whatever Jo wants. I’ll do whatever she wants.”

  Jo smiles at his honesty, and it makes her even more trustful. She looks at his nervous form, the way his hands are slightly shaking, and she knows that participation from her would probably be a bit much. So, she suggests the next best thing since she doesn’t feel too comfortable leaving them alone in the room.

  “I’ll watch,” Jo announces, “from here.” She loosens her clothes, unbuttoning her pants, and unlacing her shirt a bit. She sits down at the chair at the desk, getting comfortable.

  “I’ll join you to sleep. Is that okay?” Jo asks.

  Shea smiles, nodding, and Jo is surprised to see Beck staring at her untied blouse, feeling his eyes roam over her frame. She takes it as the compliment it is.

  They’re standing in the middle of the room, and she realizes they’re waiting for her command. She grins.

  “You may begin.
”

  Shea looks at Beck, and then back at Jo, and quickly walks over to Jo. She bends down and kisses Jo deeply and passionately, allowing her entrance to her mouth.

  Jo feels Shea bite on her bottom lip, and as they pull away, they’re breathing heavily in each other’s faces.

  Shea is staring into her eyes, and Jo knows what she wants, she always knows what Shea wants.

  “Go ahead,” Jo whispers, giving her the okay.

  Shea nods and turns back to Beck, who is watching her with admiration. Shea’s hands fly to her shirt and she starts unlacing the top. Once that’s done, her hands go to her hair, which is braided back, and she removes the leather tie. She shakes her hands through her lush red hair, letting it fall down past her shoulders.

  ​She kicks off her boots, and all the while Beck stands there watching, completely mesmerized, and Jo concentrates on Shea as well. She lets her hands wander over her own body and she feels her breast a bit as she watches Shea undress.

  ​Beck bites his lip as Shea slides her brown pants down her muscled legs until they fall like a puddle around her feet.

  She’s left in only her peasant blouse.

  ​His arousal is evident through his pants, and Shea closes the distance between them.

  ​She takes his hand gently and lays it on her body, allowing him to feel her form through the blouse.

  Beck slides his hand down her curves until he reaches the shirt’s hem. He looks at her with a questioning glint, and Shea nods, giving him permission.

  ​Beck lifts the shirt up over her head, until her nude form is before him. Her hair is long enough that it covers the tops of her breasts but that’s the only modesty she has left.

  ​Beck is staring at her nervously, but from the way Shea is holding herself, Jo knows there’s a cocky grin on her face.

  She’s not embarrassed at all. And she shouldn’t be, Jo muses, running her hand into the inside of her pants, it’s a beautiful body.

  ​Shea’s hands reach out to Beck’s waist, and she looks up at him, her head tilted and her hair falling to her back, exposing her tattooed shoulders.

  Beck smiles and lets out a shaky breath.

  ​Shea’s body obscures the view, but Jo can hear the leather cords tying his pants being unlaced.