“Women rest during their bleeding times. Those with children in the city have literal sanctuary buildings where they go and stay with other women during the most painful days.”
Like. Likea la Biblical? But with far less seemingly quarantined and far moreget my responsibilities away from me while my tummy hurts??
Good granite. This entire world is blessed. They’ve been fooled into thinking it’s only the people like Aurelia who are.
In other news… “During my bleeding time, I need to hit things. It’s very important for my mental health.”
Samson’s jaw clenches. “We can spar outside.”
“No, specifically I need to hit monsters.” And become rich. And decide if I’m proposing or asking to date… Endgame with Samson is one hundred percent marriage, so is just asking to date lying? I don’t want to date, actually, if I’m honest. I want to call him mine. So, you know, it’s good to be prepared with a circlet and figure the rest out in the moment. Need money. Need monster battle. “So…Cosmic Mines. Like we planned?”
Distress riots through his eyes, but he gives in, nodding. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m very sure.” The medicine here is magic, and I can barely feel that I’m on my period with it. I am going to become like those women in the tampon commercials who are professional dancers or whatever. Watch me doing calisthenics on the beach during a sunrise. Or, as is more likely, whopping monsters onthe head and collecting shiny things in a mine with the man I love and our two adorable puppies…
Mm.
Yeah, they should putthatin a commercial and skip on the yoga nonsense.
~ ~
Breathing deep while surrounded by walls that glimmer like galaxies covered in violet stardust, Samson flicks monster gunk off his sword and looks at me. Stress radiates in his beautiful blue eyes as they catch the reflection of calcite on the cave walls. We’ve just decimated a hoard of UV slimes, which turned the walls gleaming colors.
And, yes, I’m having the time of my life. “I said you didn’t have to help. Leave the big bad monsters to the puppies and me. You’re under level for this.”
Samson’s eye twitches. “Under level?”
“Yeah. Your sword deals, like, ten damage.”
“I’ve been a mercenary adventurer for over a decade.”
I beam. “Sure, but does your swordsparkle?”
He huffs. “No.”
“Since you can only reach this mine by defeating the queen slime in the Mystic Forest and retrieving the Gem Blade, which is the best sword in the game before Verity’s Edge, loot chests here aren’t weapon-based. We’d have to go low level in the other mine to upgrade your sword.” Something shiny and distinctly not calcite catches my eye, so I pull out my pickaxe and chip the chunk of stone away. Red. Ruby? Garnet? It’s not a jasper or carnelian. I can tell that by the luster, but the light isn’t the best down here. Either way, it’s achunk. Realism mod provides raw cuts, nothing polished or finished like the gemstone sprite drops in the game would imply unless it’s a mimic drop. Gracious. I wonder how many carats this is.
While I’m fantasizing about becoming a millionaire with a million-dollar island wedding, Yami barks, and lightning crashes into a mite. The impenetrable shell doesn’t hold up against the blast, and it keels over promptly, fried bug legs curling up. “Ew.” I grin. “Who’s a good girl?”
Samson grimaces when Tsuki goes to investigate the frizzled bug. “No. Don’t eat that,” he says.
Tsuki…does not listen.
Which is fine. The ensuingcrunchcan haunt me—along with the big decisions I have to make…
Chapter 31
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
I never much checked my email either…
“Aurelia is out today with Ines and Chrysa, for a girl’s day,” Austin says, barely looking up off the chunk of metal he’s heating to a gleaming red-yellow. Sweltering heat pounds off the furnace, and the breeze facilitated by the nearby ocean cannot break the Summer warmth today. Even if theMidSummer in the year cycle is more mild, pairing it with the forge results inFlorida Summerlevels of sadness.
“I’m not here to see Aurelia,” I say, and his sharp hazel eyes cut toward me.
He sneers, “Well, you should be.”
I blink, and Yami rests her head against my hip. “What? Why?”
