Encircled

by Robin Roseau

  “Perhaps details, but you have the bulk of it, including the reasons. You understand: you’re all going to be happy. You understand that, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have more questions?”

  “No, but no more hiding from me.”

  “Agreed,” she said. “Good. Lieutenant, I want Claary Rosebush bound hand and foot, please. Be thorough.”

  I didn’t fight them. I had my answers, and I believed her. And now I’d be happy. The guards saw to me and were as thorough as Olivia had asked.

  “Very good,” she said. “That will be all. Please send Bee and Dee in. They should be just outside.” The guards filed out. Bee and Dee stepped in. Olivia said, “Cee is yours. You may do anything you like, anything at all, until you wear her out and she begs you to stop. We’ll send her home after that. I don’t recommend tickling.” Then she got up and left.

  Bee and Dee were smart. They took their time and their own pleasure from me. But eventually I begged for no more and cursed my weakness. They kissed me sweetly, untied me, and sent me home to sleep it off.

  Purple

  It was weird owning The Baby Blanket Inn without mother there. I’d been largely running it for several years, more and more lately. But I never made major decisions without mother. Now I didn’t make major decisions without Lisbon.

  We came to some agreements. We agreed that whomever was there could make day-to-day decisions as long as they had no lasting impact. That was more authority than she’d ever had. We also divided manager-on-duty responsibilities. I was also helping to run Lassa’s bakery, and so Lisbon began handling more of the daily duties than I did.

  Hessey and Sarala were given more authority over the kitchen. That meant that Lisbon and I didn’t need to deal with that. Instead, I began teaching her the rest of what it took to run the inn.

  Some larger questions came up. We handled them together. For each of them, I asked her what she thought. Most of the time, I agreed with her in whole or in part, and we discussed it before I made final decisions. I made sure she understood my reasons, and we always hugged at the end. It was working well.

  And then I screwed up. In the scheme of things, it was a very small screw up, but a screw up nevertheless.

  Sally Whitethrush came to me. Lisbon was out. Sally wanted a job. I knew Sally, and I knew two of the people she’d worked for in the past. Both had fired her for being unreliable. Sally was a nice woman, but I didn’t want her working for the inn. I didn’t want anyone I couldn’t count on. I didn’t have time to babysit.

  So I sat her down. I told her what I knew about her. She hung her head. “No one will hire me.”

  “I’m sorry, Sally, but I can’t afford someone I can’t count on.”

  “I’d work hard.”

  “You would work hard when you are here. But then the next day, you might arrive an hour late. You might forget entirely. You might sit down with the guests and then forget you’re at work and leave with them. Am I wrong?”

  “No. Probably not. But what am I going to do, Claary?” She started crying. “I’ll work for a roof and food.”

  I wasn’t heartless, not entirely. I fed her a meal. From the way she ate it, it was the first food she’d had in two days. While she ate, I looked at her and tried to figure out what I could do with her. I didn’t want to toss her out on the street.

  But I knew what it would be like. She’d space out. I couldn’t trust her in the kitchen. Who knows what would happen? Kitchens are a dangerous place. People don’t realize that. It’s not just that you can chop off a finger or burn yourself on the stove. But there’s a pattern to a kitchen. And that pattern happens around boiling pots of water and pans of hot oil. Mother and Hessey had both drilled into me since I was a child how dangerous a pan of hot oil can be. Imagine someone getting bumped just as they were lifting a pan from the stove. The oil would slosh and start a grease fire. If it’s bad enough, the entire inn could burn down. Or the oil could get dumped down someone’s front. She would be horribly burned and scarred for the rest of her life.

  There was no way I was letting Sally near the kitchen. And that meant she’d be a server of some sort. And I’d have to watch her constantly. I didn’t have time for that. She’s screw up order after order. We’d develop a reputation for poor service.

  But I couldn’t just toss her onto the street.

  And then I realized there were solutions, good solutions.

  “Sally,” I asked. “I want to explain what working in an inn is like.” I told her of the dangers. I told her all of that.

  “You can’t hire me.”

  “No, Sally. Have you had your First Time?”

  She nodded and smiled broadly for the first time since arriving, even more broadly than at the sight of the food I’d given her. I smiled back. “You enjoyed it.”

  She nodded. “I could never do that, though. Who would trust me. You’d be a fool to let yourself become my slave, even for a few hours.”

  “Sally, you liked it, right?”

  “Right. A lot.”

  “All right. I have a solution for you. Do you trust me?”

  “Does this solution involve food and a roof?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But tell me. Do you know what you really want to do?”

  “I like to paint.”

  “Like, houses?”

  She grinned. “A mural would be fun, but that’s too much for me. Paintings. I’m not that good, but I’m not that bad, either. They’re pretty. Mostly I love to mix the colors and see what I can make. I love swirly shapes. And I’m not the only one who thinks they’re pretty. But paint costs money.”

  “And you’re not getting regular meals. What would you do if I could give you a warm, safe home, three meals a day, and some time to paint, every day?”

  “Anything.”

  “Are you sure you really mean that?”

  “You won’t let me in the kitchen, right?”

  I laughed. “Not a chance in the world.”

  She began crying again. “Please help me, Claary. I don’t know what to do.”

  “I will,” I said. “But you’re going to have to trust me. Did you want something else?”

  “Could I have one more of those little biscuits? They’re really, really good.”

  “They are, aren’t they?” I retrieved one for her, and a little more cider. She was very appreciative. Then I told the staff what I was doing, and then I told Sally to come with me.

  I brought her to Olivia’s. There was no answer. And so we walked to Jessla’s, and I discovered they were both there. They were surprised to see me. “I know this should wait for business hours, but I wanted to deal with it. Could I have ten minutes of your time?”

  “Of course.” They brought us to Jessla’s office. Then they sat on one side of the desk; Sally and I sat on the other.

  “Sally, don’t be intimidated.”

  “She’s the duchess, Claary.”

  “She’s very nice,” I said. “And she’s going to know just how to help you.”

  “If no one else will let me work for her, she’s not going to.”

  “Trust me. Let me tell her about you. All right?” She nodded, and then I explained all about Sally’s situation. I was blunt, and Sally winced a few times, but she didn’t say a word. I told them how I couldn’t dare to hire her, and why. I told them what else I knew. I told them she wanted to paint, that she said her pictures were pretty. I hadn’t seen any, so I couldn’t vouch for them.

  Then I said, “Do you think there’s someone who wants her, who will take care of her, and let her paint, at least a little at a time? Maybe she’s really good. Maybe she’s not. Maybe she’ll get better. Maybe not. But even if she’s terrible, could she paint?”

  Sally was an utter airhead most of the time, but she wasn’t an idiot. She turned to me. “You want me to be a slave.”

  “Do you remember how happy you were? Did you know my mother is a slave now? It was her idea. I’ve been
a temporary slave several times now, and I’ve enjoyed it each time. Lady Olivia was my first, and then my first Practice Challenge. I’ve been Judge Jessla’s, too. It was entirely different, but I enjoyed it.”

  “Sex, morning, noon, and night.”

  “The judge had me do a lot of things,” I said.

  “But I bet she made you have sex with her.”

  “You realize it was my idea, don’t you? I approached her about it. I knew I’d lose. I didn’t care. Sure, winning might have been fun, but I don’t think I would have learned much if I had won.”

  “I know I seem very old to you, Sally,” Jessla said. “If you were a pleasure slave, you wouldn’t care about my age. But maybe that bothers you. You wouldn’t have to be a pleasure slave.”

  “If I’m not a pleasure slave, then I’d hate it.”

  “I loved gardening,” I said. “And being a messenger. I spent a day as a statue.”

  “You did? She turned you into stone?”

  “No. But I wore silver, and she put me into a pose and ordered me to keep it. It wasn’t the same sort of pleasure, but it was relaxing, and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed being her pleasure slave more.”

  I paused. “Sally, three meals a day. A warm, safe home. You’d be happy. And I bet Olivia can find someone who will let you paint.”

  “She won’t have to look very far,” Jessla said. “I love supporting artists. If I think you’re terrible, or not to my taste, I might make you paint over some of your paintings. I would make you purple.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Any sort of performer or artist,” Olivia explained.

  “You would have other duties, duties you’re able to perform. That probably means housework. I also let my pleasure slaves play with the members of the household, if they want and in moderation.” She shifted her gaze. “Claary, go find some of my slaves, the first four you find, or the first four you think are a representative sample. Bring them here. We’ll talk to Sally.”

  I nodded. I was more than happy to make this their responsibility. I found Emmy first. I told her what I needed, and she helped me find the others, including Tee, currently the only one dressed in red. Emmy led the way back to the parlor.

  When we arrived, Sally was crying. I sat down quietly, saying nothing. Jessla said, “This is Sally. I want you to tell her how I treat you and answer any questions she asks.”

  I already knew how the others felt, and I wasn’t surprised when they talked about Jessla. She was kind and took care of them. Emmy and Tee both said how much they enjoyed being pleasure slaves, but admitted it would be hard if it were full time. Being household slaves was good, too.

  Sally didn’t ask any questions. Jessla thanked her slaves and sent them on their way. Sally waited until the door was closed and asked, “What if I’m terrible?”

  “Then I’ll change your color to blue, but I’ll still let you paint, just not as long each day.”

  She began crying again, but she dropped from the floor and then crawled around the desk to lay her head in Jessla’s lap. “Please,” she said. “I’ll be as good as I can.”

  Jessla stroked her hair and looked at Olivia, who nodded. They both looked at me, and I thanked them, then apologized for bursting in on them.

  “Don’t be silly,” Jessla said. “Olivia, I have to be careful. I consider this a willing slave who came to me. But I don’t care for scandal. I’ll need you to draft something.”

  “Of course. But I think you should see to her immediately. I can write something first, if that’s better.”

  “And I want Claary to witness what you write,” Jessla said. “I really hate scandal.”

  “Of course.” And so Olivia wrote something and signed it. I read it and signed where indicated. And then Sally signed it, too.

  Jessla saw to it immediately. Sally looked amazing in swirls of purple.

  “Walk me home, Claary,” Olivia said.

  Mistake

  The next day, I told Lisbon what had happened. She let me give the telling, and then she said, “Let me be sure of what you’ve said. Sally asked for a job. You turned her down but fed her and then gave her to Jessla.”

  “Did you hear the part where she was living on the streets and begging for meals?”

  “I just wanted to be sure,” she said. “But this is a done deal. Sally now belongs to Jessla.”

  “And she’ll be very happy.”

  “She’s Jessla’s permanent slave.”

  “Don’t be a hypocrite,” I said. “You argued for Mom.”

  “This isn’t about Sally. It’s about you making a permanent decision without consulting me.”

  I froze but then said, “It’s not like we were going to hire her, Lisbon.”

  “So? You made promises, Claary. You’ve been keeping them, but I knew you’d slip. It doesn’t matter that it turned out right for Sally.”

  “You weren’t here.”

  “Whatever.” And she stormed off.

  * * * *

  Three hours later, two of the leather-clad guards found me in Mother’s office. Mother’s. Right. It was mine now, but it would feel like Mother’s forever. I was a little perturbed they wandered through the inn. “What can I do for you.”

  “You are Claary Rosebush.”

  “I am.”

  “You are asked to come with us.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re not usually told why. You are asked to come with us. Will you cooperate?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Government House.”

  “Am I being arrested? Am I accused of some crime?”

  “We were only told to retrieve you. That is all we know.”

  “And it’s to be now.”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine. Do I have time to tell someone, or am I just going to disappear?”

  “You may tell anyone you like, but please don’t try to run.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not going to run.”

  * * * *

  Still, one of them grabbed my arm, and she didn’t let go until delivering me to one of the courtrooms at Government House. They pulled me to a low railing facing the bench. After that, they flanked me, although they released my arms.

  A black-coated slave stepped in and ordered everyone to rise. Jessla stepped in. She banged her gavel, and most of us sat. I remained standing at the lectern before her bench.

  Then a side door open. Olivia and Lisbon stepped in. Together, they walked to the other railing on the other side of the room. “What is this about?” I demanded.

  “Watch your tone,” Jessla said. “This is my court.”

  “My apologies, Your Honor,” I said. I looked around. Two of my four guards remained, plus Jessla, Olivia, and Lisbon. No one else was present.

  Jessla nodded. “Ms. Rosebush, we wish to verify certain facts. Discounting your escort, some of these are known to all of us. Others are known to some and believed by others. Do you understand the difference?”

  “If I tell you it was raining on the way here, if you haven’t been near a window, you don’t know it was raining, but you might believe me.”

  “Very good.”

  “Or, if I’m given to lying, you might not believe me, especially if I have an incentive to lie.”

  “Just so,” she agreed. “Fact one. You and Lisbon Rosebush are co-owners of The Baby Blanket Inn.”

  “True.”

  “There was a 60-40 split, and it was agreed you carried overall authority.”

  “Is that what this is about?”

  “Answer the question.”

  I considered her. “You didn’t ask a question, Your Honor, but yes, that is a fact.”

  “Fine. Fact three. It was agreed that you would consult with your sister before making any important decisions.”

  I sighed. “Yes.”

  “We are told the two of you came to other, private agreements regarding this issue.”

  “We did,” I said
.

  “Would you state them for us. We have heard Lisbon’s version.”

  “If it involves a day-to-day decision with no lingering effect, then either of us can make a decision, as long as it doesn’t conflict with other decisions. For instance, Lisbon is free to order additional pastries if we seem to be going through the ones we have.”

  “And decisions she can’t make?”

  “Anything with lingering effects. Without a discussion, she can’t hire and fire. Neither can I. She can’t agree to a new supplier or negotiate new terms unless we agree she may bargain for us. I can, because we agreed to it, but she’s indicated which suppliers she is fond of, and I wouldn’t fire them without talking to her.”

  “That is consistent with the version she explained to us.”

  “I don’t know why we’re here,” I said. “I didn’t hire or fire anyone. Furthermore, I cannot believe she would argue that we should have hired Sally. Or is this something else entirely? I think I have a right to know why I’m being questioned. I would also like to know why she appears to have representation and I do not.”

  “This isn’t a formal court session,” Jessla said. “And no one has accused you of any crime. But we are here regarding the decision you made yesterday.”

  I turned to Lisbon. “You can’t really mean to say you would have hired Sally.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t,” Lisbon said. “But you should have talked to me anyway.”

  “You weren’t there.”

  “Was it an emergency? We agreed we could make tentatively permanent agreements in an emergency. Could you have fed her and given her a bed? We could have talked and decided together?”

  I considered her. “You’re right, but I don’t know why you’re upset.”

  “Because you made a permanent decision for the inn and didn’t inform me before it was time to discuss it. Furthermore, I am convinced this decision will have lasting effects that you didn’t even consider.”

  “What? We won’t have an employee burn the inn down?”

  “You talked her into enslaving herself!”

  “Frankly, Lisbon, you have an argument that I should have talked to you before I turned her away. But there’s no way we were going to hire her, and I think you agree with that. Yes or no?”