"Yes," he said, smiling widely. "Thank you."
He turned away from Merle without another glance, winding his way through the mostly-unmoving crowd to a table and sinking into his seat carefully.
Merle, suddenly aware she was now Vehr's only focus, dropped back into a curtsy. "Your highness," she said. She tried to find something to say, some sort of apology for helping Sestin, and couldn't find one. She settled for changing the subject instead. "You had wanted me to cut your hair?"
"I do," Vehr said. All of her eyes were focused on Merle, who could feel the skin on her arms turning to gooseflesh. "I dislike partial blindness. You will cut my hair, but keep me beautiful. I shouldn't like to dislike the sight of myself in the mirror."
"Of course," Merle said, mind working a mile a minute. She drew a deep breath and let it out. "I was told the new eye is on the back of your neck?"
"Yes."
Merle glanced over her, quickly. "You seem to value your long hair."
"Yes."
It was said the same way both times, a disinterested but polite-seeming monotone. The sound almost itched, like Merle wanted to rub it away with both hands, shape it into something real, act out to get a reaction. She forcibly ignored the impulsive urge. "I was thinking I could give you a haircut like—like a fish's tail or a swallow's. Short in back, then layer forward rapidly. It would keep things off your neck but still leave the hair looking long from the front. Let you still do things with it if you like. I think it'd look lovely."
Vehr looked utterly disinterested, as if she wouldn't torture Merle to death if she didn't like the hair. "You're the hairdresser," she said. "You do what you think is best."
"Right. Yes." Merle dried sweaty hands on her dress. "You want me to begin now?"
"That was the plan, yes."
"In here—?"
"I see no reason to withdraw," Vehr said.
Well. She's the prince.
It was the same as every other haircut she'd done. It had to be the same as every other haircut she'd done. Most of those were on demons, and the stakes weren't so different then. Demons were demons: every one of them was more powerful than she was. She might be facing a demon prince now, but drowning in a tub left you just as dead as drowning in the ocean.
Thinking about it that way was almost cheering. She was practically an expert at cutting demon hair and not dying. Hell, that meant she had a 100% success rate.
Merle curtsied again, asking silent permission before she went to stand behind Vehr. The way she'd lifted and parted her hair to wind it around the room might have been some kind of fashion choice, but it was almost certainly also to keep it off the back of her neck. There was indeed an eye there, heavy-lidded and a bit tired-looking. For a moment, Merle stared blankly at it before really realizing that Vehr could see her through it. She dropped into a hurried curtsy again, lowering her eyes.
I can't do it. Despair flooded her. I won't get a chance.
She'd had thoughts, when originally chosen, of using this moment to win her freedom. If she were behind Vehr, she'd be out of sight. She could put the scissors against her throat and bargain, or even just stab them right in. But her hope in that vague, poor plan had drained away. She wasn't unwatched, even when behind Vehr. And from what Sestin had said, she'd need to take out every eye to weaken Vehr. There was no room to make a move without Vehr—undistracted, just sitting there—noticing first.
Nothing to do but my job. I guess I'll just hope for the best.
So she did. She parted the hair, pinned it up, snipped long strands away until she had cleared a spot around the eye. Then, slowly, she began to work at layering it, building it out until the unusual haircut would seem natural, intentional.
It took a few hours, but these things usually did, and since Vehr—thankfully—didn't seem interested in talking, she just let herself get absorbed in the rhythm of it, the sensation of hair in her hands, the gentle sound of the scissors slicing through cleanly.
Finally, it was done. She dug up the small hand mirror she carried in her work belt and lifted it up so the eye on the back of Vehr's neck could see. At least this part of things was simpler than it usually was. "Here's what it looks like at the back," she said, and heard her voice come out way calmer than expected. Nice! She congratulated herself silently as she came back around. "And… the front."
For a long moment, Vehr was silent, eyes moving as she examined the haircut. She lifted a hand and held it behind her, then did the same with the other in front, eyes in her palms rolling as she took another look at both sides at once.
Merle held her breath.
"Acceptable," Vehr said finally. "Appreciably so."
Merle's stomach seemed to melt inside her, turning into lava that made her gut uneasy. "Great," she said. "I'll just clean up here and I can be on my way."
"No," Vehr said. "No need to clean. They'll fight over who can keep what's left. It'll be amusing. Sestin."
Sestin seemed startled to be called, but rose from his seat, coming over and sinking into a low bow. "My prince?"
"Since you've taken such an interest in her, show her to a room. I believe a few of them have some space at the moment."
Sestin's smile seemed a little resigned, but at least he was still smiling. Then again, he hardly ever stopped. "Of course. Merle, come with me."
A protest rose in her throat, then died there. No point. She'd known as much when she was called. If Vehr decided to keep her, that would be that. Still, she had to try, and found another, less dangerous protest. "If it's your wish, Prince Vehr. But I'm an extra mouth to feed for nothing. Hair doesn't need to be cut that often—"
"It's my wish," Vehr said. "Sestin. Take her. She's nice to look at but not to listen to."
Merle's mouth snapped shut. Sestin's hand closed on her elbow.
"Come on," he muttered, smile and voice both slightly strained.
She went.
Chapter Three
Sestin stayed quiet as he took her back to the lift and across to one of the other inverted towers before descending again. His smile, she noticed, had finally fallen off. Merle didn't bother talking either. It felt like words were trapped behind her teeth, like if she talked she might start screaming instead and maybe never stop.
And that would be pretty weird and not the best first impression to give the other captives.
Sestin finally led her off onto another floor and recreated a pale imitation of his usual smile. "There are a few rooms that have space, but one of them is down to only two people, so I'll be putting you in that one."
"Only two?" Look at that, she thought. I can speak normal words after all.
"They're usually four-person rooms, but sometimes things happen."
"Things," she repeated back.
He looked at her with a serious sideways glance, smile withering away again. "Things," he agreed, and didn't specify further.
Merle thought briefly of repeating it again and seeing how long they could keep this up, but the urge quickly faded. No point in alienating the only person here who'd at least seemed to want to be nice to her. "Okay," she said. "I'm used to having two roommates anyway. It'll be just like home."
"Hopefully this won't be too big an adjustment," Sestin said sympathetically. "You'll find it's pretty quiet around here so long as you don't draw more attention to yourself."
The comment seemed pointed.
Sestin knocked on a door, then called through it. "It's Sestin. I'm bringing a new arrival to stay with you. Everyone decent?"
Which was, she thought, surprisingly good of him. Especially for a cubant. She didn't hear the muffled reply, just the sound of a soft voice, but he smiled at the wood and opened the door.
It wasn't a terribly large room, a pair of double bunks on either side and a small dressing table on the back wall. Sets of trunks sat at the end of each lower bunk, to hold the residents' belongings. Nice and human, Merle thought with relief. She'd worried it might be an obstacle course like Vehr's great hall
.
One girl, with flaming red hair framing a white face and bright blue eyes focused downward, was seated on the floor drawing something on a pad of paper. The other was seated on a lower bunk, looking up as Merle and Sestin entered.
Merle's heart skipped a beat.
It had been ten years, but despite the many changes she'd gone through, there was no mistaking her. Abeille had been allowed to blossom, with her hair grown out to her waist in long brown curls. Gone were the rough trousers and apron that she'd sported when everyone had known her as the blacksmith's son. Instead, she was wearing a long dress with trailing sleeves that suited her much better. Her face and figure had softened too. She was still freckled, strong and tall and muscular, but—
"Merle?" Abeille gasped. It had been her voice that they'd heard through the door.
"Abeille…!" The name exploded out of Merle with a joyous rush of air and she burst into a short run, flinging herself the last few feet to tackle her friend. Abeille let out an oof as Merle hit her, tumbling backward into the bed with a flurry of hair and sleeves as Abeille's arms flew up around her. "Abeille, Abeille…!"
"It is you…" Abeille breathed. She was breathing rapidly against Merle, confused and almost awed.
Merle pushed herself up on the heels of her palms and stared down at Abeille. "You look amazing," she burst out. "Holy shit, I thought you were dead and here you are being super cute. And you've got tits!"
Abeille opened her mouth, closed it, and then furrowed her brow like she couldn't decide whether or not to take offense.
Shit, Merle thought anxiously. Of all the things to say after this long…
But Abeille finally just let out a rueful laugh that just seemed to grow and grow from her core until it was something genuine and delighted again. She wrapped both arms around Merle, squeezing her to her bosom. "I see you haven't changed all that much. You're as careless as always with your words."
"You know me," Merle said. She struggled to get up again, but Abeille wasn't letting her up. Merle pressed against those strong arms for only a second before relaxing against her. "I truly thought I'd never see you again—"
"Well," Sestin said from the doorway, almost exaggeratedly delighted. "How lucky! I hardly thought I'd get to reacquaint two friends. Perhaps today isn't so terrible after all."
Abeille's arms fell away from Merle, who didn't try to get up again, just turned her cheek so it was pillowed on Abeille's shoulder. "Sestin," Abeille said in a suddenly awkward tone, "why's she here? It's not—"
"Prince Vehr asked for a beautiful hairdresser," Sestin said. "She got your Merle here. And it seems she's decided to keep her. So you two will have a chance to get caught up, but I'll let you do it in some privacy. I didn't mean to voyeur on your little moment."
"I'll go too," the third girl said, rising from the floor. "If you're willing to take this humble slave for company, Sestin?"
"Always have time for you, Belette," Sestin said, his smile a bit smug. He bowed, offering his arm to the redhead. "Abeille, Merle, I wish you good luck."
The two of them left, shutting the door behind them, and Abeille let out a heavy breath she hadn't seemed to be holding. "Merle, I'm so sorry," she said, brows creased and eyes wide. "I'd hoped you'd be long gone by now."
"I never got out of the city," Merle said. She sat up finally, reluctant to move from the embrace but wanting to look Abeille in the face. "Just as well. If I'd known you were still alive down here, I'd have tried to get in sooner."
Abeille shook her head firmly. "No," she said. "I'm glad it's taken this long. I wish you'd never come."
The tone was gentle, unaccusatory. Despite that, the words struck Merle as a blow. "But—"
"I'm glad to see you," Abeille said quickly. "I missed you very much. But it's not a good place here."
"It's not a good place up there either," Merle muttered. "Especially alone."
Guilt crossed Abeille's face, and she pushed herself up on her elbows. "I know. I'm sorry. What have you been forced to do?"
"Nothing too bad," Merle muttered. "I got work as a hairdresser. I've been doing that about eight years now."
"Not too bad," Abeille echoed back, brows creased. She drew a deep breath and let it out, chest heaving. "I'm glad. I've… been worried."
"You've been worried?" Merle replied, stunned. "I had no idea what happened to you down here. But you look like you've been thriving."
A series of odd expressions crossed Abeille's face, hard to identify, before settling on a wrinkle-nosed grimace. It made her freckles look extra cute, Merle thought.
Abeille said, "In some ways, maybe. Prince Vehr values appearances. I was taken down because I was… handsome… enough, I guess, but mostly because I made beautiful jewelry. She wanted to look at it. At the process. To suggest things and see if I could make them beautiful. But she also made available whatever I needed to make myself more beautiful. Medicine, proper clothing. So parts of it haven't been so bad."
From what Merle remembered, Abeille had always wanted to save up for those things. But— "You don't look particularly happy about it."
"I'm glad to have this opportunity to compensate for the rest of what it's like down here," Abeille said neutrally. She tucked some hair behind an ear in an awkward gesture. "But the Watchful Prince is not a good master. You haven't been lucky to come here. I wasn't either. I could have got these things on my own, given time. I don't owe her anything."
Merle scooted backward, leaning her back against the wall behind the bed and hugging her knees. Her relief was giving way to the overwhelming awareness of their situation. "What has she done to you?" she asked finally, a little afraid of what she might hear.
"She's not someone who… does things to others. Not exactly," Abeille said softly. "She does like to control, but not really in a way that takes action. She's very passive. Maybe it's because she's so old, or maybe it's because she's a watcher. She chooses what action she wants to see and controls it and makes it happen, and she watches."
"What do you mean?"
Abeille looked away. "If you cut her hair already, I'm sure you saw how she made you the center of attention." And then, "I'm sorry. I don't want to talk about it."
Merle was sure it had to have been something similar. Being put on the spot, pinned by Vehr's gaze and surrounded by her court. Perhaps displaying jewelry, or showing off her skills at swordplay. But at the same time, she feared it would have been something worse. A power-hungry demon was never a good thing. Merle let out a soft pained noise, trying to put her rush of terrible fears out of her head and focus on the reality.
It doesn't matter what Abeille was the center of attention for. Only that she'd hated it.
"I'm sorry," she said, and took Abeille's hands, clutching them in her own. "I… it's like I failed you. We had so many big promises, but neither of us got out. Maybe. Maybe someday we can, now that we're together again."
"I just don't want you to get hurt too," Abeille said, tone raw. "I don't want you to have to change down here. I'm okay now. I'm used to this. Complacent, honestly. It's nothing to me anymore, don't worry about me. It's been ten years of it. But I never wanted you to get caught up in this sort of thing. I hope you don't think less of me for… for giving up like that."
Merle looked at Abeille past the top of her knees, squeezing her hands. If she pulled a little, she could draw Abeille in for a hug again. But she wasn't sure if she should, not while Abeille was so tense and unhappy. "It doesn't matter. You're still my best friend. I know you."
Abeille's lips quirked a little. "You've always known me."
"I always will," Merle promised. There was something in Abeille's gaze that was making her heart beat faster, a plaintive longing there which she felt guilty even responding to. Abeille had gone through so much. Even in her fears, her answering guilty thought of whatever I have to do will be fine if we're together felt like a betrayal of their friendship. Of Abeille's pain. "I promise, we'll always be friends."
Abeille smiled, then suddenly looked stricken. "Oh—oh, no. We can't. We mustn't."
"What?" Had her horrible thoughts shown on her face? "Abeille!"
"Nobody can know we're friends," Abeille said, suddenly urgent. "If Vehr finds out the two of us have any prior attachment, she'll definitely come up with something involving the two of us. I've seen it before with some men she'd brought in. The betrayal of that kind of attachment, she really… she really eats it up. She thinks it's beautiful."
Merle's eyes widened. "Nobody? But I mean, a few people know already. Sestin and that other girl."
"Belette," Abeille said. "She's okay. We've lived together a while, and I can't imagine she'd tell on us. She's the sort who feels that we humans have to stick together. And Sestin is…" Abeille wrinkled her nose, looking both fond and uncomfortable. "He's not a bad guy, for a demon. He's kind to the humans, which is more than I can say for a lot of them."
"Prince Vehr was… taunting him today," Merle said. "Forced him down and made fun of him. Do you think he might try to curry favor by giving up our secret?"
Abeille considered, then wrinkled her nose again, this time like she'd smelled something unpleasant. "I don't think so. He's the sort who can be reasoned with, anyway. I think since it's just those two, we'll be okay. We just have to be careful."
Chapter Four
They did, in fact, seem to be okay. When Belette came back, they cautioned her about Abeille's fears and Belette shook her head at once. "Of course," she said. "I know what it's like around here. I didn't see anything. Just two strangers meeting for the first time."
Sestin wasn't around to talk to, but even so, it seemed like he didn't say anything, since rumors didn't spread about them. When Abeille introduced Merle to people, she did so as a new roommate only, with a strange air of disinterest to it that made Merle uncomfortable, even as she understood the reason for it.
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