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The whistle pitched high and loud, a sting to her ears before she shook her daze, all but launching from the chair to take the kettle from the stove's fire.

On a wooden countertop lay a porcelain cup and saucer decorated modestly with filigree along the rims. Tissaia’s favorite tea cup. There wasn’t a time Yennefer remembered the cup anywhere other than Tissaia’s desk.

Tissaia’s regular choice of drink, black tea with hints of rosemary oil. It was a sophisticated but simple aroma, a sweet welcome that never failed to ease her when she entered Tissaia’s room.

Hot water steamed from the spout as Yennefer poured the water over a thin cloth filled with fresh ginger and chamomile. Tonight’s request was for something different.

“Do you want anything?” Yennefer eyed Tissaia’s lips and leaned in, trapping the Rectoress between her arms. “Do you need anything?” A sensual hint touched her words.

“A cup of tea would be nice.”

Yennefer kissed Tissaia’s shoulder once, then twice. “Is that all…”

“For now, yes…” Tissaia pushed space between them, giving a soft smile as she looked down.

“What kind?”

“Whatever you choose.”

Yennefer leaned in with a stretch to reach Tissaia’s lips.

“Something easy to drink.” Tissaia managed between a kiss as Yennefer slipped an arm around Tissaia’s back to draw her closer. Tissaia pressed her hands to Yennefer’s shoulders, stilling her passion with a ginger smile. “Go…let me breathe.” She closed her eyes and sighed softly—

“Shit!” Yennefer sucked in a hiss between her teeth as boiling water overflowed from the cup and scalded the back of her hand. She shook off the sting and dried her hand on the bottom of her shirt, taking a quick sip from the cup to level it. Tissaia had already spent the last hours kissing her. Her lips on Tissaia’s cup would be no different.

Yennefer dried the cup and saucer from any remnants of water, or her. She lastly added a spoon of honey and extinguished the fire from the belly of the stove with a turn of her wrist.

Aretuza’s moonlit atrium was quiet. She crossed the short distance from the kitchen to the stairwell leading up to Tissaia’s quarters. Tissaia had the best room in all of Aretuza, as it should’ve been. It was a short walk from everything important but situated high enough to be spared from any abundant noise.

She paused outside the bedroom door.

‘Am I now the Rectoress’s servant? Or maybe she has me under a spell and I have yet to realize it.’ Yennefer wryly smirked and entered the room.

The fireplace’s amber glow caressed the walls and its light gently wavered about. Tissaia had lit the room in her absence. On the nightstand next to her, a single candle flickered beside an ink well. Fire crackles softly echoed about the room, accompanying the easy scratch of Tissaia’s quill on parchment. With the bedsheet hugged to her chest, Tissaia wrote in a book on her lap where she sat in bed.

“I hope that’s not a critique of my performance.”

Tissaia softly smiled at her voice but didn’t look up.

Yennefer stopped at Tissaia’s side with the cup and saucer. With a glance over, Tissaia closed the book and set it on the nightstand.

“What were you writing?” Yennefer handed the tea to Tissaia and sat on the bed’s edge.

“That your touch could’ve been softer, and your kisses deeper.”

Their gazes met and they shared a smile.

“You know better than to challenge me, Rectoress.” Yennefer said with a mischievous tone and leaned over, her collarbone touching the rim of the saucer in Tissaia’s hand.

“Careful.” Tissaia said with a smile as she held Yennefer back; her other hand holding the cup close, the sheet slipping down as a consequence of her occupied grasp. Yennefer kissed Tissaia’s shoulder, careful of the tea, its steam warming the underside of her jaw and front of her neck.

If Tissaia truly kept notes or comments on her performance, Yennefer wouldn’t have been surprised. She wouldn’t put it past the Rectoress to debate the timing of her movements and the sloppiness of her kiss.

Tissaia turned her head in the opposite direction and took a careful sip from the cup. Her eyes brightened for a second at the taste. “Perfect.”

“Hmph.” Yennefer smirked at Tissaia’s approval.

Tissaia set the cup on the nightstand, before her luck ran out and it spilled between them.

“Are you going to tell me what it was?”

Tissaia pulled apart the buttons on Yennefer’s shirt, opening the collar. “Notes to myself, what to get done tomorrow, things to prioritize.”

Tissaia’s touch sent a shiver through Yennefer.

Tissaia parted her shirt with an inquisitive look. She pushed her hand under the black fabric, her palm warming Yennefer’s shoulder. Yennefer let Tissaia explore her skin, and the Rectoress did with a pensive look in her eyes. She touched careful and slow, as conflict brewed within her. Yennefer saw it plainly but expected as much.

A teacher and her student—former student. For the Rectoress who valued appearances, a clandestine relationship was much too inconvenient for her, Yennefer presumed.

How would this look if the Chapter knew? If the Alumni knew? Or the current students? Even those outside the walls who’d eventually find out the great mage of Aretuza bedded one of her own? Tissaia’s unsullied reputation could take a hit.

And yet, Tissaia’s finger trailed down the center of her chest.

‘Are my presumptions correct?’ Yennefer’s smile faded as she watched the Rectoress. She wrapped an arm around Tissaia, kissing the crook of her neck before they lost the moment. Tissaia needed it, her gentle reassurance.

“We should talk.”

Yennefer laid beside Tissaia with a sigh. “About why we fucked, and why we keep fucking—”

“Must you always be so vulgar.”

Yennefer pulled Tissaia to her, their eyes locking as she searched the Rectoress’s gaze for a moment. “I’d rather not…” Yennefer stroked Tissaia’s cheek. “I find that the more people talk, the worse things get.”

“Eventually we—”

“It happened. What’s left to say, hm?” Yennefer said. “I have nothing to hide from you. You know that.”

“What about your witcher?”

‘That’s what was on her mind…’ Yennefer looked down.

“I doubt he’ll take kindly to this.”

Yennefer ruminated over the thought. “Geralt...” She searched for an explanation. “It’s different between us…”

“You’d break his heart.”

Yennefer softly smirked. “Geralt is not exactly a “man with a heart”. He’ll find another after me.”

“He loves you deeply.”