She looked away hurriedly when he glanced up, frowning as he caught her staring. She swallowed, fear coming quick and biting, but she tried to push it away. Alindra was here. She had chosen to be her temporary keeper, and surely she would intervene before anything bad could happen.
And she would simply try to forget what being caught staring at a master would mean from before.
“Ness? You look a bit pale.”
She swallowed, forcing herself to calm, and put on a shaky smile. “May I ask you something?” she asked, determined not to allow memory to ruin what was such a pleasant outing with her new not-mistress.
Alindra nodded, still appearing a little concerned but she did not question her again.
“The men... well, some of the men... they wear...” she gestured to her forehead, trying to mimic the small cord that Olivar wore there, the same as Bendan and the man in the corner. Alindra gave a nod of understanding. “Why? What does it mean?”
“That is the vassa,” she answered, pointedly giving her another Onidaen word to tuck away. “It means that they have been chosen to represent our people in foreign lands, even so far as to cross the Seas and trade with those beyond. It is a great honour,” Alindra continued, but Ness paled even further. “But I think Bendan was more proud when Olivar received his than even when he achieved his own.”
Ness bit her lip, wondering if she should tell Alindra about what the Caern had said. Knowing this... that it was a bestowing of honour... and that he should lose it because of her?
And apparently it was very important to Bendan as well, and she hated to think of how he might resent her further if he should learn that she was the cause of it being taken away again.
She hadn’t decided whether to confide that or not when the woman appeared again, this time with a tray balanced on her hip. Ness’s eyes widened as she saw the two large, golden... somethings, not quite believing that one was for her. It was split in the middle, white, frothy cream seeping from between, and she stared down at it bemusedly when the woman placed it in front of her. A long spouted pot followed, but she placed that more toward the middle, two small cups joining it, and Alindra gave a respectful nod that was nearly a bow. She said something, but Ness could not understand, and she was too mesmerised by the confection in front of her to try to decipher the meaning.
Her finger twitched, wanting to touch it, to give it a poke and see if it was as flaky and welcoming as it appeared. Would it be sweet? Or a mild taste that was pleasant on her tongue?
She wanted to find out, but she always wanted to see how Alindra approached hers before she simply plucked it up and took a bite, sprinkling golden crumbs all over herself and the table.
Alindra pulled the top off and tore it, before dipping the long piece into the mound of cream, a smile at her lips as soon as the combination hit her tongue.
Ness followed suit, though even doing her best, she was not as neat as Alindra had managed to be, but she resolved that she would pick up every bit of crumb after she’d finished. There was no need for her to leave a mess for another to clean up.
The flavour was mild, but there was a sweetness that was decidedly pleasant. She happily took another bite, and then another, dipping in for more cream each time, wondering how it could be so wonderfully frothy. Olivar had shown her the liquid version at his home, putting it in his distasteful beverage, but this...
She wondered if she could learn to make it. But then, if she was given the choice, she probably would choose to eat this every day rather than learn to make anything else.
“I take it you have decided to like something?” Alindra asked, a smile in her voice.
Ness nodded fervently, and she laughed, reaching out and pouring two cups from the pot. She pushed one toward Ness. She forced herself to put down her latest piece of the delightfully puffy food, swallowing thickly and taking up the cup. It occurred to her that perhaps she had been rude—that she should have been the one to pour and offer it to Alindra—but the other woman did not seem upset, was only looking at Ness expectantly, so she took a careful sip, mindful of the heat.
It was different than what Olivar brewed. There was a sweetness that lingered on her tongue, the colour a vivid red that was almost shocking. She decided she quite liked it, though she noted that she would have to handle the cup with absolute care lest she spill any and it stain horribly.
“I thought you might care for sweet,” Alindra commented with approval, taking a deep sip from her own cup. “It was Olivar and Bendan that brought this back on a trade, you know,” she added, a hint of pride in her eyes. Ness could not say that she saw much in way of overt affection between Bendan and the not-mistress, but for the first time she rather thought she saw some of what might be deemed so.
She looked down into her cup, that niggle of worry making itself known again. “If...” she stopped, trying to decide if she truly meant to ask, but from the way Alindra was looking at her, she doubted the woman would allow her to stop speaking now. “That is... the Caern said that he might not allow Olivar to be a part of such things any longer. Because... because of me.”
Alindra stared at her, a frown coming to her lips. “Did he?”
Ness nodded sadly. “Would that be very bad?”
Alindra sighed deeply, putting down her cup and moving a long finger against its edge. “I suppose that would depend on Olivar,” she said thoughtfully. “Bendan would take it very hard, I am sure, as he is most fond of those trips with his brother. But Olivar...” she glanced up at Ness, watching her carefully. “He might find it a worthy exchange. If I was asked, I would even say that he would, but you would have to ask him to know for certain.”
Ness nodded, somewhat miserably. She didn’t want anything taken from Olivar. She wanted all that was good for him, for kindness and prosperity to be his in all that he desired—it was the least that he deserved for his compassion towards her.
But that was quite out of her control.
For a brief moment, she considered leaving. The thought surprised her, a dark, hopeless feeling overtaking her the instant the idea wriggled in. She remembered considering the same when her master had given her to Olivar, and she had rightfully dismissed it.
And perhaps, if she truly thought that it would be better for him, she would do that. It would hurt her more than she could say to leave him, but if it meant he got to keep his honour, keep what had been bestowed, perhaps it would be worth it.
But the Caern had criticised Olivar’s choice in its entirety, bringing his judgement into question. And that would not alter regardless of her continued presence here.
“You look terribly...” Alindra struggled for the word, finally shaking her head with a huff. “Well, terrible, I suppose. I would much rather see that excitement when you delved into your crempet.”
Ness tried to smile, but it was a rather pitiful attempt. She did not know why it was easier to push away her memories than it was her worries about Olivar, but that did not change that such was her truth.
Alindra sighed. “Olivar is a good man, Ness. And when I look at him... he obviously cares about you a great deal. A very great deal. So I think you are worried unnecessarily.”
Ness glanced up at that, her stomach doing a funny little tug to hear the not-mistress’s assessment. “Really?”
Alindra’s eyes got a twinkle that was most strange. “You sound more pleased than displeased. Have you perhaps found yet another thing to like?”
Ness did not think her cheeks had ever turned a brighter shade of crimson. She was mortified, and though she knew she needed to deny it, the words would not come. The secret feelings she harboured for him... they were dangerous and wrong, and she should be punished severely for them.
But Alindra wasn’t scolding—she only grew a little more thoughtful, reaching her hand out with a gentle smile of her own. She patted Ness’s, her voice holding a bit of caution. “Just be careful. I would hate to see either of you hurt, and you have been through so much.”
&
nbsp; The warning confused Ness. She was not certain what hurts she could incur, not from Olivar—not when her every injury caused him such obvious distress. So she must mean the pain that would come from Olivar reminding her of her place should ever he be the one to learn of her burgeoning feelings.
She nodded glumly, her cheeks still pinked, her embarrassment still too near the surface.
She took another bite of crempet, the flavour just as pleasing as before, but she had lost some of the joy in eating it, too preoccupied with her own tangled thoughts. Alindra was talking of her work, of the apprentice she was considering if negotiations with Bendan did not resolve soon.
“I suppose you must think me...” a pause, a search for the word. “Difficult?” she tried. Ness glanced up at her, her brow furrowed. “For taking so long, I mean,” she finished. “I care for him, of course, but he can be so very stubborn! Which can be admirable, I suppose, given the circumstance, but...”
She halted, her eyes going from her own nearly untouched crempet to something over Ness’s shoulder. She sat a little straighter, her eyes narrowing, and Ness turned, trying to see what had changed her demeanour so abruptly.
She blanched when she realised it was the man from the corner. He was staring down at her, his expression inscrutable.
“Ragmar,” Alindra greeting, her tone slightly cool. “Is there a reason for this approach? You are interrupting.”
He glanced at her briefly, answering in a language Ness did not know. Alindra’s eyes narrowed even further.
Ness watched with growing concern, wanting to burrow back into the cushions of the chair until she was entirely invisible, but his cold eyes kept going back to her. And when a hand reached out and grabbed at her upper arm, a tight, biting thing, she could not say it was wholly unexpected.
He tugged, pulling her upright, even as Alindra scrambled up, her words harsh and equally forceful, but he ignored her, pulling Ness behind him.
She knew she should have stayed at home. She knew she should never have left without Olivar as her keeper.
And now she was going to pay for that foolishness.
She just did not know how dearly.
14. Like
“I am not going to hurt you, girl, so you can stop your crying.”
Ness did try, but she was frightened, and his grip on her arm did hurt, and she wanted to be back with her crempet and Alindra.
She knew she should stop wriggling, should put a stop to her tears until only a meek obedience remained. This was as she’d always feared, another master coming to claim her, to insinuate himself as her new keeper until Olivar became nothing more than a dim memory.
They were nearing the door, a few of the other patrons eyeing them speculatively, a few more a bit nervously. A woman rose, a tall, strong person that would certainly never allow herself to be treated so.
But Ness wasn’t an Onidae. Wasn’t a mistress, or even a not-mistress.
She was just... Ness.
A pitiful excuse of a thrall.
Who suddenly, desperately, wanted to be with Olivar.
They exited, and she did not know what he intended with her. She should submit, should obey. She knew that well.
But her muscles were not obeying, and instead of calmly following him, she found herself lurching backward, his grip loosening probably more from surprise rather than any strength on her part.
“No!”
He stared at her, and just then she felt more hands on her, and she struggled again, not caring who was touching, but knowing that it wouldn’t be her true keeper.
And she wanted him.
She could not believe that the word had come from her, so forcefully had she yelled it. But it had, and she was certain she would be punished for it, but she could not bring herself to care.
Not if it meant submitting to be taken from where she belonged.
She shuffled back, her eyes finally settling on Alindra. There was no mistaking how furious she was, but before Ness could shrink back any further, Alindra placed herself between Ness and the man who wanted to be her new keeper. “What were you thinking?” she demanded harshly.
The man looked at her, his nostrils flaring slightly, though he fought for calm. “Cost me coin,” he reminded her, reminded them both. “Coin I needed. She has working arms and legs. She could at least help scrub.”
Alindra stared up at him, appearing entirely uninterested in his intention. “She is a person,” she stated firmly. “Not a commodity. Would you have ever dreamt of dragging me out to work for you?”
The man scowled at her. “Of course not. But she is a...”
Ness did not know what he intended to call her for Alindra’s hand shot out, striking him across the mouth. Ness blinked, wanting more than ever to be home. She did not want to be a part of a squabble, especially not when she was still reeling from her earlier resistance.
What was happening to her?
She waited, not entirely certain what she expected to happen. She did not think that a master would ever hit a mistress, but she knew little of even Naradian customs in such matters. She did not know if a mistress was ever permitted to strike a master either.
She pressed herself against the wall of the harnel, her breath coming in heavy pants as people began to exit, all watching, none intervening. Was that normal?
The man wiped at his mouth, scowling at Alindra, but made no move toward her either. Alindra did not seem the least bit nervous, her chin jutting out even further. “Ness is our guest, and we are to show her the best of what our people have to offer. You would wish her to think we are no better than the Narada?”
To Ness’s surprise, a few of the gathering peoples spat on the ground at the name. She was a little disgusted at the act, but perhaps that was the intention? Were the Narada not well respected amongst the Onidae?
She should not be surprised given Olivar’s frequent distaste for their methods and behaviours, but she did not know it would be so widespread.
But there was much she did not know.
“You exaggerate,” the man insisted, though his eyes shifted to the growing crowd, his eyes flickering to Ness briefly. “I only wanted her to work,” he said again. “I was shorted by her coming here. Doubt any would appreciate it if they were the ones who made less than was due.”
Alindra eyed him coolly. “Then you may speak with the Caern directly,” she informed him. “Instead of frightening poor girls.”
Ness’s stomach lurched at the suggestion. If she was able to give a preference, she would much rather the Caern forget she existed at all.
She wondered if the argument would continue, if perhaps the man would demand she be dragged before the Caern even now, but Alindra turned, placing a hand on Ness’s shoulder gently. “Let us get you home, all right?”
Ness could only nod, wanting to go desperately, but her limbs would not quite cooperate. Alindra gave her a sympathetic smile and rubbed her shoulder a little. “Nothing is going to happen to you,” she assured softly. “We will go home to Olivar and you do not have to think of this again. But I am sorry that it happened at all.”
It took another moment before Ness’s feet decided to function again, and she managed a subtle nod, wanting to be away from these eyes and the shame she felt to be so noticed.
She had behaved poorly. Her presence here was burdensome.
There was a stinging lump in her throat, and she wiped at her eyes, not wanting to cry in front of everyone. It did not work very well, more quickly replacing the ones that had come before.
And to her surprise, Alindra wrapped an arm about her shoulders as they walked, never mentioning her silent tears, but offering her a quiet comfort as they walked quickly back to Olivar’s home.
Though Ness wasn’t certain she would ever be willing to leave it again once they reached it.
Olivar looked up from his work at their approach. There was soot over a great deal of him, but he was present and there, his smile a warm invitation that at least he was hap
py for her presence.
And she promptly burst into tears anew.
He looked at her in some bewilderment, Alindra’s arm leaving her shoulders and giving her a nudge toward Olivar.
It was all the permission she needed.
She did not care about the soot. She would wash her own clothes again as well as his if she was allowed to tuck herself into his side, to disappear where everything was safe. She could have lost him today, and that was a prospect she never wished to have repeated.
“Ness? What has happened?”
One of his big arms settled over her, holding her close. The words wouldn’t come, the relief she felt to be here once more too overwhelming. “Alindra?” he tried again, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Alindra sighed deeply, and Ness peeped out from her hiding place, hoping that the other woman wasn’t angry. Their outing had been so very lovely, and Ness hadn’t meant for it to be ruined.
“One of your crew was evidently less than pleased with being shorted. He thought Ness could make up the difference.”
Olivar’s grip on Ness tightened, but she didn’t mind. Not when it meant he was bringing her closer to him. “What did he do?” His voice was low and hard, a rumble that vibrated against her ear. She thought it would sound frightening from any other than him.
Alindra’s own tone took on a hint of wariness. “He tried to drag her out. Ness here told him she did not want to go.”
Ness bit her lip, uncertain of how that might be taken. If any from her past had heard of her refusal, she would be punished. But as her eyes flitted up to meet Olivar’s, she found that she was unsurprised to see a hint of pride welling there.
She smiled at him tearfully, and he leaned down and brushed his lips against her temple. “Did you really?” he asked, his words gentling. He was always so very careful with her.
“I only told him no,” she admitted, hoping he was not expecting more from her. The last thing she wanted was for him to be disappointed.
Thrall (Deridia Book 3) Page 23