The room wasn't cold at all, but Minha shivered just a bit anyway when the other woman's hand brushed through the layers of her robe.  She let her eyelids flutter closed, searching back in her mind.  When was the last time it hadn't been in obedience?...<br/><br/>It wasn't a rational attraction or a rational wish, but there it was.  "Most of my peers in attendance have been slaking whatever lusts drive them," she murmured.  "It's a thing of the Allthing.  The bountiful harvests that belong to the Green Sun Princes, now that all of Creation can no longer deny us."  Her fingers unlaced, her hands now gliding up Cailana's sides in a feather-light touch.  "A week, or more, of the kind of festivals the old Realm threw.  Of every debauch they can vent themselves on..."<br/><br/>By now her fingers were roaming of their own volition.  "I have been obliged," Minha whispered into the other girl's ear, a hungry note creeping into her voice, "to reject the great majority of my suitors.  They weren't befitting.  Handsome and beautiful, brilliant and talented... but not right.  There are stories I remember distantly, though-- images, flashes from a life long ago-- of Solar fire and Lunar might.  You, I think..."<br/><br/>Then her lips brushed Cailana's neck, just below her jaw, and whatever thoughts she might have been hosting were lost as she kissed the woman in her arms.  Hungrily.  Eagerly.  Roaming freely, accepting the offering she'd been presented, and electing to ravish it.