Eris had never been forthcoming about her family, so while Salvia recognized their blood-bond, she did not consider this woman anything more than a stranger. Kin gave them only so much right and familiarity, and even her own sisters (and more recently, brother) had slipped into the place where no love could reach. They remained above others, but only just so—Salvia could not afford to show weakness in affection and gentle words.
The woman—Myrika—agreed to the vow. Though she was remarkably pleased, Salvia allowed only a thin and ferocious smile to grace her face. One hand moved to her side, and to the well-tooled leather bag. Within it were various trinkets, but one in particular was brought forth. It was a cloudy, small glass bottle capped with a age-stained cork. “We call this the Covenant of Salt,” she explained, willing to give the Aquila this much information. It might help to aid the questionable honor of her home. “I’ll put some in my hand, and you in yours, and we’ll shake upon it. The salt seals the bond here, and above the earth.” It was an old form of alchemy long forgotten, and even Salvia, with her intelligence and her tact, knew little of it. A woman like Siv might have recognized the power in the bond for what it was; Salvia only saw it as power because of Salsola’s weight upon it.
She cupped her hand to show Myrika how to do so and uncapped the bottle. A gentle tilt poured a small amount (perhaps a third) of the contents into her hand. She offered the bottle to the other woman, green eyes rising to meet that clear-sky blue.