Rune was such an idiot. But he was her idiot brother, and Freja loved him dearly. Even now. She chuckled softly and leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. "I imagine they must," she said, conversationally. "Or join the church. I don't know that I've honestly ever met a woman interested in other women that way. Plenty of men, mind you. Remember that lordling they sent us from that house in Mag Mell, the one with the funny sigil? I can never remember his name, I always think of him as Sir Flouncing of the Tightpants." Freja shook her head. It wasn't important.
"That's not the point. The point is... would you really want a wife who didn't want you?" Freja's tone was gentler now, because she knew the answer would be no, and it was one of (yes, alright) many reasons why she loved him so. "I think you deserve better than that. It doesn't sound like it'd lead to a very happy marriage."