Her feelings on the matter had nothing to do with it.
The bath felt less pleasant when the water began to cool again and her thoughts had grown despondent, but she did not know what else to do, alone in Olivar’s rooms, so she sat and grew sadder, until she heard the faintest sound of footsteps. She looked to the wad of wet clothes at the foot of the bath, biting her lip as she wondered if she should make a one-handed attempt at scrubbing them before she exited, but then a voice was calling out and she grew still.
“Ness? Are you up here?”
She didn’t immediately recognise it, but there had only been one female she had met so far, and she supposed that meant it could be Alindra. She bolted from the bath, afraid of repeating the incident when she’d allowed Olivar to enter and he’d been so appalled at her nakedness. But the bottom of the basin was slick, and in her hurry she neglected to hold onto the side before attempting to get out.
And so she fell, her hip colliding with the bottom of the basin with an excruciating thump, a wave of water going over the side.
At first all she could think of was the pain, feeling so incredibly stupid for yet again injuring herself. She had never been so clumsy with the Narada, and she did not know why she’d started now.
She did not cry, the throb a persistent thing, but she knew it would ease into only a large bruise.
What dismayed her was the water. She could see a thin covering all over the floor, and she only had the one small cloth to dry herself with.
And now there was a mistress at the door, knocking swiftly. “Ness? Ness, are you all right?”
She bit her lip, her voice frightened away, but she tried to find it, tried to gather some control of the situation. But she must have taken too long because Alindra continued. “I... I am going to come in, Ness,” she called, as was her right, even if Ness was ashamed of the mess she’d caused.
She huddled in the bath, not wanting to see what it was to have a mistress upset with her, when Alindra entered, her eyes wide as she surveyed the small room. “Did you fall?” she asked, walking through the puddles and coming to the side of the basin.
Ness nodded, forcing herself to talk, even when her throat felt tight and her eyes burned. “Yes. I... I wanted to be dressed for you. Olivar did not like seeing me naked.”
Alindra’s eyes widened before she did a peculiar roll of them, shaking her head a little. “We will not dwell on that, I think,” she commanded. “Are you hurt?”
Ness gave a half-shrug, but knew that was insufficient of a response. “Only a bruise,” she told her truthfully. She was certain that the pain would have been far worse if it was broken, and she was well familiar with the beginnings of bruises, even large ones like she was certain would quickly begin to appear.
Alindra’s eyes were sympathetic, but she nodded in acceptance. She did not seem very troubled by Ness’s nudity, though Ness tried to cover as much as she could with her arms. “I am sorry if I startled you,” she said, sounding quite genuine in her apology. “I knew our men were returning to work today and I wanted to see if you would appreciate a little company.” Ness’s eyes widened at that, certain she’d misheard her. She didn’t understand mating within the Onidae, but she supposed Bendan might belong to Alindra if they were apparently in talks, but Olivar certainly wasn’t hers. Not in any real sense. Her cheeks pinked at how much she liked the thought of it, though.
If Alindra realised the source of her discomfort, she did not comment, instead glancing about the room again. “But perhaps we should focus on cleaning up in here first, yes?”
Ness looked down at herself, wondering if she was being given permission to get out and dress—but also not wanting to offend if she misunderstood the instruction.
Alindra found the cloth for her to dry and handed it to her, eyeing her thoughtfully for a moment and seeming to notice her bandaged hand. It was a little damp, but Ness thought it would dry quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Olivar to have to cease his work to come tend it.
“I do not want you to think I see you as a child,” Alindra told her. “But maybe it would still be better if I...”
Ness didn’t know what she was talking about, but it quickly became clear when Alindra reached into the basin and plucked her out, holding her upright until she was certain of Ness’s footing. “There. And now, I think I will go find some more cloths to wipe all this up. Is that all right with you?”
Ness gave another nod, supposing that meant she should dress in the interim.
Alindra smiled and exited the room, and Ness didn’t know why but she felt oddly comforted by her non-reaction to her nakedness. It felt far more familiar, as if someone was finally acting as they should. It was probably wrong to feel that way, she acknowledged ruefully. She did not want things to be the same as they had been, not at all, but she could not deny that familiarity was comfortable.
And she did not know how long it would take before the ways of the Onidae would replace what had come before.
She stood awkwardly, realising that she had neglected to bring more clothes in with her. She had thought she would be alone, but that didn’t really matter. She should have expected that her supposing would prove incorrect.
She peeked her head outside the door and found Olivar’s bedroom to be empty and she hurried over to her trunk, pulling out the first things she could. She scrambled into her shift before slipping into a tunic and leggings, the latter still difficult to tie without making her hand give a twinge of protest. But she managed, Alindra appearing with a smile of approval.
“It is good I have come, I think, or else Olivar might think it is acceptable only to dress you as a man.” Ness’s eyes widened and she looked down at her things, realising they were the first things he’d given her, and her cheeks flamed.
She felt oddly protective of these garments, these first, tentative offerings that had meant so very much to her, and the momentary pang of resentment toward the mistress was an unwelcome thing, even as it proved difficult to push away.
But Alindra did not linger, disappearing into the bathing room with her arms full of cloth, apparently prepared to clear up Ness’s near disaster. Ness took one breath, then another, before going after her.
It felt so wrong to see her on her hands and knees, mopping up a sodden floor, especially when such had been created by a thrall. Ness hadn’t been ordered to clear it up, but she reminded herself firmly that things were different here and surely there would be no wrong in helping. She tentatively grabbed a cloth and when Alindra didn’t scold her, she began wiping, feeling a little better when she recognised that this was a rather informal attempt at cleaning an already tidy floor.
Alindra glanced at her, pausing in her work as she sat back on her heels, giving Ness a peculiar look. “Did I say something wrong, before?” she asked suddenly. Ness blinked at her, uncertain how to answer. “When I said about the clothes,” she clarified. “Only... you got an odd look when I said it and it is still there.”
Ness flushed, ducking her head and fixing her eyes on a particularly sodden spot. She grabbed another cloth, not at all sure what was safe to say, but acutely aware that a mistress awaited a response.
Or was she not a mistress at all? If there were no masters, what did that make their women?
Her head gave a painful throb, her hip giving an answering ache as she shifted her position a little. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then forced what she hoped would be an adequate response. “I never owned anything before,” she confessed, her voice low and her eyes fixed to the floor. “These were the first, taken from Olivar’s own things. I... I am sorry if they offend.”
Alindra reached out, taking her good hand and squeezing it firmly. And when the pressure did not immediately rescind, Ness took it to mean she was intended to look at her. “I am sorry, Ness. I did not know, and I clearly spoke wrongly. Your things are your own and it is not my place to comment.” She eyed Ness carefully for a moment. “You do not agree?”
Ness gave a little half-smile, her earlier ire draining as she struggled to explain without revealing too much. “You... you are a mistress. Or... would have been? If... that is... Olivar does not want your people to be masters. So I suppose you aren’t a mistress?”
Alindra blinked slowly, finally giving a careful nod. “Olivar is right, I am not... that. I am certain you have heard that before, though.” She grew quiet, continuing to wipe before twisting out drenched cloths in the basin. She paused, turning back to Ness. “Is that terribly hard for you to accept?” She gave a dim smile. “We really are not very special here. I am sure you have begun to notice.”
Ness huffed out a breath. She’d seen quite the opposite, every person far more wonderful than she had ever come to expect. But she didn’t know how to say that, so she answered with what was most pressing. “I was taught that the women of the masters were to be respected above all, save for the Commander. It is... difficult to think otherwise.”
“I see.” Alindra hummed, taking her large rag and covering another puddle. “I am not certain what to say to that. It is good to respect another, but I am also not a...” her face scrunched up as she tried to find the word, “an authority over you,” she said with a satisfied nod. “I hope if you decide to share your company with me, it will be because you want it, not because you think you have to do as I suggest.”
Ness fiddled with her pile of soaked rags. “I would... like to know a woman, I think,” she admitted quietly. “The other thralls... we were not permitted to talk often.” She thought of the girls she had known, so much time spent between them, but with so few words shared.
She would never see them again.
They would face implantations, births, work, and households. And she would be forgotten, a face that would begin to blur from memory, until perhaps they would begin to question if she ever existed at all.
The thought made her sad, but she couldn’t say why.
Perhaps she wanted to matter to someone, wanted them to miss her if she was gone. But that wasn’t allowed there.
But maybe...
Maybe here.
“Good,” Alindra declared, wiping up the last of the water. “Then let us take these to the line and then we can talk. How does that sound?”
Ness got up, using the side of the basin to help her to her feet, her hip giving a dull throb of protest at the movement.
That would fade soon, even if the bruise itself bloomed to a brilliant purple. And her herbs might even help it do so faster.
They made quick work of the rags, Alindra’s height making the process a simple one. Ness watched her somewhat enviously, the question coming before she could stop it. “Are all the women so tall?”
Alindra laughed. “I suppose so. Though honestly, I am a little on the short side.”
Ness looked at her disbelievingly, and Alindra nodded in confirmation. “It is true. I think Milina is the tallest I have known, though. She had a good hand over her husband.” She held hers out to indicate how much she meant, and Ness stared at it.
“It must be nice,” she commented truthfully. To be so tall, so... present, must be a lovely thing. There would be no need to cower if you were so strong, no need to huddle in the hopes that another in the room would choose not to hurt you.
Alindra’s eyes grew a little sad. “You are fully grown?”
Ness gave another half-hearted shrug. “The doctor seemed to believe that if I had growing left, it would not be much.”
Alindra reached over and patted her shoulder.
“No matter. I am certain someday a man will come and notice you for what you are.”
Ness paled, hating that thought. There was plenty she hoped no one would notice, and for it to be some strange man...
Alindra looked at in her alarm. “Have I said something wrong again? Oh, Ness, I am sorry. I... do not use this language often, and I am afraid it is all coming out... well, not quite as I intend.”
Ness thought her words were perfectly clear, but that was precisely the problem.
But she had a choice. She could either fear what Alindra had suggested, or she could learn. And she was tired of not knowing things.
So she took a steadying breath, pushed away the clutch of horror that had gripped her, and tried to focus on other things. “Why do you speak it? Everyone seems to.”
Alindra relaxed visibly at that, and Ness realised she had chosen rightly. They liked to answer questions, it seemed, to be questioned, and her silences made them uncomfortable. She would try to do better with that.
“Not everyone speaks it, no. But we are traders, you see, and it is important we can speak with neighbours for ourselves.” She leaned down, her smile turning a mischievous. “Less chance of being swindled, if you do not have to rely on a translator.”
Ness eyed her, not expecting that answer. Olivar was so very... honest. It seemed natural that he would assume others to be equally so. But evidently they held others with at least some degree of suspicion. She wondered why she was exempt from that.
“Is...” she swallowed, her nervousness mounting the more she realised she didn’t understand. “Do you think it’s important that I learn your true tongue?”
She did not expect Alindra’s shrug as she tucked the last of the cloths onto the line. “If you wanted. But I warn you, we may be a people that learns many, but we teach ours to few.”
Ness nodded, feeling dejected at that. Of course they would not pick her to learn. She had tried unsuccessfully to explain to Olivar how unworthy she was of all of this—all of them—but perhaps bringing up the possibility of language would be enough for him to reach that conclusion.
“You are making that face again,” Alindra commented, bringing her arms down slowly as she regarded her. “I keep saying all the wrong things to you.”
Ness didn’t know how to answer that. “I think you’re being very clear,” she assured, though her stomach did a funny flip, and her discomfort grew.
“No. No, I am not, otherwise you would not look so hurt all the time.” She fidgeted with her dress, tugging at it briefly before she forced her fingers to release the fabric. Ness found the gesture oddly comforting—a mistress could be nervous. Or... at least, a not-mistress could be. “What I meant was, we are much better at teaching other languages. No one really asks to learn ours. And children learn the mother-tongue quickly, so I am not certain who would be best to teach it even if you wished to acquire it.”
Something tight and uncomfortable loosened in Ness. “Oh,” she whispered.
Alindra gave a sad little smile. “See? I told you. Not very clear at all.” She released a heavy breath. “I think I am beginning to understand how difficult it must be for Olivar.”
Ness winced, but obviously did not hide the action very well, for Alindra’s eyes narrowed at her. “I meant,” Alindra stressed, shaking her head slightly in the process. “You do like to think the worst. It can make it challenging to find the right thing to say, especially when also using an infrequently used tongue.”
Ness hung her head. “I am sorry,” she told her sincerely. The last thing she wanted was for things to be difficult to any of the Onidae. Not because of her.
Alindra tapped her cheek, her smile warm, but sad when Ness looked up at her. “I do not need you to be sorry, Ness,” she insisted. “But maybe... maybe try to be a little gracious too. We do not know what we are doing when it comes to you. But maybe... when you are feeling hurt from what is said, perhaps you could... at least attempt... to think that perhaps it came out a little wrong.”
Assume that a...
Not a master. Not a mistress.
Just people.
Speaking foreign words just so they could try to communicate with her.
She was certain if she ever did try to learn theirs, her words would often come in a jumble, and likely the meaning could easily be bungled. Who would she insult then? The thought was enough to make her shy away from the idea entirely, but she recognised ruefully that Alindra, Be
ndan, Olivar... they hadn’t done that.
They still tried, imperfectly, but genuinely, to try to talk with her.
And the least she could do was try to listen as best she could.
“I will try,” she assured Alindra.
“Good,” Alindra said, her smile brightening. “You have my thanks, and Olivar’s too, I am certain.”
Ness smiled back, but it was a little forced. She felt guilty for not having recognised those limitations before. How much frustration had she caused Olivar because of it?
“Now, what would you care to do? I could take you out and show you some of the town, if you would like, or we could sit and talk for a while.” She grimaced, though there was good-humour in her eyes. “Though that does not seem to be going so well.”
Ness wanted to correct her, but caught it in time. If Alindra thought it wasn’t, then it wasn’t. She felt bad for that, but she hoped she would get better at it too.
“Am I...” she swallowed. “I do not know if I am allowed out without Olivar.”
Alindra’s eyes narrowed at her again. “And why would that be?”
Ness shifted nervously, realising that she was clearly facing a not-mistress’s approval. She thought it looked almost as terrifying as a real-mistress. “He is my... my keeper,” she reminded her quietly. “What if something goes wrong?”
There was always a keeper...
And if one was tasked with something else, a thrall was given to another. That thought frightened her far more than it should, for what scared her most of all was that she would not be given back.
She wanted to stay with Olivar.
He was the only one who had ever cared about her wants. He gave gentle touches, and was so very kind when she was sad, and didn’t mind when she cried.
She did not think there was any quite like him. Not in all the world.
And she did not want to lose him.
“I will stay with you, Ness,” Alindra reassured her. “I do not think I understand what a keeper might be, but I would be glad to be your escort if you would like to see our town.”
Thrall (Deridia Book 3) Page 21
