Rain lashed down on the window. It was a dreadful night for a priest of the temple of temptation to be out on an assignment. Long, deep purple curtains kept the winter wind out and made the room feel small but cosy. The client, a young woman sat on the bed, still fully clothed. Tears were pouring down her face. Eladhel looked over at the very large man standing near the door.
“Wraythe, this isn’t going to work,” he said. He sat down beside the woman and took her hand in his. “Lady,” he said, “if you don’t tell me what you need, I can’t help you.”
Without being asked, Wraythe poured a glass of water and gave it to the young woman. She managed to give him a small, sad smile to thank him.
It was a pleasant bedroom. A long, wide bed, big enough for several people, and a small set of steps to get into it. Far too big for one small woman. The colour scheme was fuchsia pink and purple, feminine, but not overly fussy. The furnishings showed a recent transition had been endured, from child to woman, and a stuffed toy animal had just been laid down when the two priests came into the room. Eladehl and Wraythe had travelled through the pouring rain, in the dark, and were not too sure of where they were. A supercilious flunky had met them at the door and shown them upstairs to the lady’s room. And now here they were. A priest of the Temple of Temptation and his guardian, waiting for a weeping woman to calm down and tell them why they were there.
The message Eladehl had been given was short. Go to this address, spend an hour in the company of a young woman named Sunniva. As assignments went, this one was strange, though so far, there was no hint of anything violent in the offing. As he waited, patting her hand reassuringly, she finally quietened, apart from an occasional hiccup. She was a nice-looking little woman. Not exactly pretty; not like Nari, or even that annoying Tishlie. Her most attractive feature were her wide, anxious green eyes.
“It was Algar’s idea,” Sunniva said, so quietly that Eladhel had to strain to hear her. “We're going to be married in a few days.”
Eladhel looked at Wraythe, who had also raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, I know what you think,” she said hurriedly, “and it’s not that. Algar thought you could stop me from worrying. I just don’t know what to do.”
“I’m sorry, my lady,” Eladhel said, “I’m still very much in the dark. I find it helps if you begin at the beginning, and don’t worry. I’m here to help you. And don’t take any notice of the big hulk standing over there. He’s here to protect me.”
That drew a smile, and she was surprisingly pretty when she smiled.
“All right, I’ll start at the beginning,” she said.
“It’s a very good place to start,” Eladhel said. “I’m listening.”
Sunniva sighed. “I met Algar a year ago, and his father and mine decided we should be married. We were both very happy about that.” She smiled, remembering their betrothal day. Many people gathered, family and friends, to wish them well. Algar had given her a beautiful pendant with a green stone, that he said was the colour of her eyes. A few more tears trickled down her face. Wraythe passed a handkerchief to Eladhel, and he gave it to Sunniva. She managed to pull herself together again.
“Six months ago,” she said, “I found a lump, in my left breast.”
“Ah,” Eladhel said.
“The doctors wanted to remove it. And while they were doing that, they found another one in my right breast.”
“The gold coin is beginning to drop,” Eladhel said. “You’re worried that your Algar will think less of you now.”
“Oh I know he wouldn’t,” she protested. “But what if I look so awful that he can’t bear to touch me? I won’t marry him if he’s going to be disgusted at the way I look. No, I don’t mean disgusted.”
She bent her head and whispered. “He might not love me any more.”
“I wish Nari was here,” Eladhel said, looking at Wraythe. “She’d be more tactful than me.”
“Oh no,” Sunniva said. “It wouldn’t be any good if a lady priest saw me.”
Eladhel smiled at the term, “lady priest”. Sunniva was a delightfully naive young woman.
“If a man thinks you look all right,” Wraythe said, “you’d feel that Algar is more likely to react well.”
“That’s it,” Sunniva said, smiling shyly at the big guardian. Eladhel suppressed a smile. That was the third time she had smiled at Wraythe. He wondered if her betrothed was tall.
“All right,” Eladhel said, “I can do that. But you’re going to have to remove some of these.”
She was dressed in several layers of waistcoat, two shirts, under shirt, and chemise. Protection, perhaps, wear enough layers of bulky clothes and no one would notice a lack of breasts? Finally she was down to the last chemise, and Eladhel could already see the problem. Her chest was completely flat. Not flat with small, barely perceptible mounds topped with nipples, that even the most flat-chested woman or very young girl, had. As she pulled her chemise off, Eladhel saw that she had no nipples at all, and the operation scars had faded to pale-coloured lines. Both men were silent, looking at Sunniva. She had her eyes closed.
“Lady,” Eladhel said softly, “open your eyes. You have to see the expressions on our faces. And we are not disgusted, are we Wraythe?”
“No,” Wraythe said, softly.
Sunniva opened her eyes. “You, you don’t think it looks horrible?” she said.
Eladhel smiled gently. “Not at all. You’ve had a dreadful time of it, and that’s enough to knock anyone over. But you are going to live.” He emphasised the word. He touched her chest, stroking his hand over her skin, so soft and warm. She gasped.
“Did I hurt you?” he said.
Sunniva smiled. “No, it feels nice.” She blushed, as Eladhel went on stroking her, his fingertips tracing the lines of her scars. When he switched to kissing her chest, her breathing was heavier. Now that was interesting, her skin was delightfully sensitive. Eladhel grinned at Wraythe.
They all heard the front door open, and a muttered conversation, followed by footsteps on the stairs. Sunniva pulled her chemise back on, as a young man, tall — Eladhel was amused to see — and very good-looking, walked into the room. He crossed the room in two strides and knelt at Sunniva’s feet.
“I couldn’t wait,” he said. “Did he help?”
Sunniva smiled at him. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. Obviously this was Algar, and by the look of adoration in his eyes, he had no problem at all with his little breastless betrothed. Daringly, she pulled the chemise off in one movement. She took his hand and placed it on her chest.
“It feels nice if you stroke it,” she said shyly.
As Algar began to stroke her and kiss her, Eladhel and Wraythe quietly left the room.
“We’re not needed now,” Eladhel whispered.
As he opened the front door for them, the supercilious doorman unbent enough to grimace something like a smile and dropped a purple velvet bag, that chinked suggestively, into Eladhel’s hands.
“That has to have been the easiest assignment in the history of the temple,” Talin said, after Eladehl and Wraythe recounted their little adventure.
“Poor girl,” Nariana said. “People put such store on others having the right size and the right look. When it’s only her own opinion that really matters.” She sat up on the bed, that all four shared. “You did a good thing Ela. You should be proud. And that was not the easiest assignment. One wrong look, and she would have been devastated. That took a lot of tact.”
Eladehl kissed his partner. “You helped a lot too Big Guy.” He grinned at his guardian, who lay on the other side of Nariana. Eladehl crawled across the bed and laid his head in Talin’s lap. “And if that’s the trickiest assignment they can give us, we’ll be laughing.”
Wraythe held his glass of ale up. “Let’s have a toast,” he said, “to Sunniva and Algar. Love, long life, and happiness to them both.”
The other three raised their glasses. “Sunniva and Algar,” they said together.
As the rain lashed against the window, the stuffed toy animal witnessed Sunniva and Algar competely failing to resist temptation, and deep inside the temple, Zeal smiled.