by LJ Maas
She was the cause of my inability to sleep, but there was no sense in lying to myself. I grew so used to sleeping with Gabrielle, that it was apparent I merely missed the girl in my bed. I knew I was growing accustomed to her, but I never thought her loss would affect me in this way.
So, I find myself in a position that instills feelings of comfort and embarrassment in equal measure. From the darkened corner of her room I stand and watch her. I’ve been standing here, motionless, and watching her for over a candlemark now. She must have been exhausted when she returned to her own bed. She wore no shift, as though she simply fell onto the mattress, pulling the sheet over her. I stared at the slight figure, lying there so silently, a look of peace gracing her features. Her chest rose and fell in a soft, steady rhythm and I felt a strange sensation of contentment wash over me.
Gabrielle, as the fates would have it, felt another’s presence in her room and she awoke with a startled expression on her face. As she looked around, I saw her lean over and light the candle at her bedside. I stepped back further into the shadows, silently watching. When her expression went from one of sleepy disorientation to fear, I didn’t have the heart to conceal myself any longer. I took a step forward, letting the light from the flickering flame announce my presence.
“My Lord.” She exclaimed, starting to rise,” “how may I serve you?”
“Relax, Gabrielle,” I said, moving closer to the bed. “I have no need of you in that way.” I pacified her.
The strained silence persisted as I stood awkwardly, wondering if I should explain my reason for being there, although somewhere in the back of my brain that tiny voice told me that I was, after all, the Lord Conqueror, and why in Tartarus should I have to explain myself to anyone? As always, Gabrielle was one step ahead of me.
“Are you troubled, My Lord?” Gabrielle’s soft voice inquired.
Gods, I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. I was troubled in a big way, but could I admit that? Would I be opening the gates and giving this small slave some power over me, if she knew my weakness, especially if that weakness turned out to be her? Would Gabrielle think I was being foolish, even worse, losing my mind? I wanted to talk to her. I wanted it so badly. How arrogant of me to think it a weakness to care for someone. My shaking knees were proof of just the opposite, and I began to wonder if even I held enough strength to voice my needs and fears.
I moved forward and sat at the end of the bed, just opposite, but facing away from her. “I... I... ” I cleared my throat and tried to begin again. “Sometimes I... being alone at night. I mean, with you in here and me over there... sometimes I wish it were different.” I said heavily.
I wasn’t sure if she understood what I was attempting to say, Hades, I didn’t even know if I knew what I was trying to say. I just didn’t have enough practice at this and I cursed my inability to feel anything for anyone for so many seasons. My abilities as a ruthless warrior may have led me to conquer a good portion of the Known World, but they left me ineffectual at building something worth holding on to. Gabrielle’s soft voice stirred me out of my self-recriminations and her words contained a quiet strength that I found odd, coming from her.
“There are times, My Lord, when the only thing necessary to bring comfort to a person’s soul, is the sound of another’s heart, beating along with your own.”
The deeply profound statement from my young slave should not have taken me aback. I ought to know by now, that Gabrielle is nothing, if not unpredictable, but the depth of her understanding for my plight caused me to look at her in a new light. When I didn’t move or make any attempt to speak, she continued.
“I may be very unworthy company, My Lord, but perhaps... perhaps if you were to lie here, Morpheus would beckon you.”
When she looked over at me and I turned to see her face, I saw those eyes that could never quite meet my own, and I think that we both knew, that in her company is where I wanted to be anyway. Without removing my clothes, I made a move to lie back on the large bed, but realized that I still wore my boots, wet and muddy from my walk outside. This was my slave and my bed, it should not matter to me where I place my dirty boots, but acting that way to make a point just didn’t seem worth it with Gabrielle. To the outside world, we were slave and master, but in the privacy of our rooms, the lines were blurring more and more everyday.
I pulled off my wet boots and lay down atop the covers. Gabrielle pushed the sheet from her body, knowing it was the proper behavior for a slave, not to cover herself in my presence. It seemed like I was doing a lot of things lately and not understanding my behavior, but when I grasped the end of the sheet and pulled it back up to cover Gabrielle, I knew exactly why I did it. If I wanted this girl with the submissive nature to start respecting herself, then I needed to treat her that way in kind. In this instance I felt she was reaching out to offer me comfort and friendship, me, her master, someone she really only had to tolerate with a closed mouth. If she could offer up this olive branch, then I would try to graciously accept it the way it was intended.
“Roll over, Gabrielle, facing away from me.” I said, knowing it was neither a command nor a request, but something in between.
She rolled over onto her side and I pulled the sheet up further, tucking it around her. Then I draped an arm around her waist and felt her settle her back against my chest. The warmth against me felt so relaxing.
“Goodnight, Gabrielle.”
“Goodnight, My Lord.”
It took only moments for me to drift off and when I didn’t wake the next morning until the sun’s rays shot into my eyes, I knew that tonight, things would be different. Hades could take propriety, convention, and any other long-standing bit of protocol I was damaging. I no longer cared what this looked like to others. I didn’t care what people would think or say about such an arrangement. This girl will share my bed tonight and every night thereafter until I deem it no longer so.
I silently dared for anyone who had doubts about my sanity, to give voice to their concerns... to my face.
CHAPTER 7
TO SEE A WORLD IN A GRAIN OF SAND
“GOOD MORNING, GABRIELLE.” I addressed my young slave as she entered my bedchamber.
“Good Morning, My Lord,” she replied in that soft voice of hers.
I just finished dressing, pulling my boots on when Gabrielle entered the room. She and I sat down to the wooden table where I took my meals. Sylla already set the table with a variety of fruits and baked breads, along with some thinly sliced, smoked fish. As usual, Gabrielle sat at the table across from me with her head bowed and her hands in her lap.
Taking our meals together was always an adventure. It was obvious my young slave was denied food, somewhere along the way, as a form of punishment. She seemed very accustomed to not eating for long periods of time, then consuming all she could get her hands on later, to carry her through. I occasionally watched her out of the corner of my eye and I always seemed to catch her placing something in the pocket of her skirt for later. I sighed to myself on this morning, as I watched her slip and apple into that pocket. I could only bite my tongue and continually reiterate the fact that her food hording was unnecessary.
When I rose from the table, I crossed the room to where my sword lay, atop a chest at the foot of my bed. I strapped it to my hip and felt an oddness to the gesture. Funny, but for all these years that I have ruled and lived in this palace, I have worn one sword, but it still feels strange not to have two swords at my waist, as I do when in battle. I spent so many seasons as a warrior, two blades in my hand, that it truly became a part of me.
I shook off the memory and returned to the table. Gabrielle watched as I stopped and dropped to one knee before her. My height was intimidating and I had no desire to press my superiority over my slave. I took her hands in my own and enjoyed the smoothness against my own skin.
“Gabrielle?” I paused and she looked up, never completely looking me in the eye. I wasn’t sure where to start since I didn’t want to frig
hten her. “Gabrielle, remember what I told you about food in my home?”
“Yes, My Lord... forgive me, I--”
“Ssh, it’s all right, I’m not angry.” I reached into her skirt pocket and produced the apple she tucked there. She guiltily lowered her eyes.
“I want you to try to remember something... look at me, Gabrielle,” I added gently. She raised her head again and I realized I was growing accustomed to the way her eyes avoided looking directly into mine.
“As long as I have food on my table, little one, you will not go hungry.” The term of endearment just seemed to spill easily off my tongue and I made no attempt to get it back as it seemed fitting for my small, lovely slave. “Gabrielle, have I lied to you yet, since you have been in my service?”
“No, My Lord.”
“And, I will not, especially about this. Now,” I returned the apple back to its hiding spot in her skirt. “If you want this because you may grow hungry for a snack, or even if you want to pay the stable a visit and treat Tenorio, that is fine. Only, never fear that I will deny you food as punishment. Do you believe me?” I asked at last, knowing it would be difficult for her to answer that.
“I--” She didn’t know how to answer truthfully. “I will try, My Lord.”
“Then that is all we can ask, is it not?” I smiled at her and although it was not something I usually did, it seemed to ease her discomfort a small bit. I found that smiling in Gabrielle’s presence was becoming easier and wondered if it would ever feel so natural that I wouldn’t be aware I was doing it.
“I have business on the docks today and wish to walk, Gabrielle. Do you wish to join me? It will give you an opportunity to visit the city.” I asked, rising from the floor.
“Yes, very much, My Lord.”
* * *
We walked from the palace, my slave and I, and I should have held no fear that Gabrielle would find anyone here to trade affections with. The gossip spread like wildfire and everyone in the palace already knew, not only who this small blonde was, but also what she meant to me. No one even raised an eye to the girl, at least while I was beside her, and certainly no one spoke to her. Hades, the people of Corinth barely acknowledged me, with the exception of lowering their heads and bowing in respectful submission.
It made me feel rather sorry for Gabrielle, though, to think this was what her life had long consisted of. As I overheard her tell Delia, a body slave lived a lonely life in her master’s household. She was cursed for the master’s bad temper and even in good times, no one took a chance at being caught speaking with her. Even in friendship, a casual glance could ignite the jealousy of an angry and possessive master, such as myself. I do not say, used to be, for when it comes to Gabrielle, I fear I could fall back into those same fits of fierce suspicion and controlling behavior that consumed me in my younger days.
I felt compelled to reassure Gabrielle in some small way, to assure her that I would not be lopping her head off if I saw her speaking to someone on the street. Did I really mean that, however? I had not miraculously grown the heart of a mystic because of my developing feelings toward my small slave. I was still at a loss as to what to say to the woman, but there was a need in me, that was as accurately as I could describe it. It was a need to express certain emotions I was having concerning Gabrielle. I grew quickly frustrated as we walked out of the palace gates. I wanted to say so much to her, but I was completely unaware of how to say it. I wondered if Delia would laugh at my predicament if I were to go to her for help. I wasn’t completely inarticulate, however, so I decided to wade right in.
“You... uh, you look very nice today, Gabrielle... very lovely.” I commented and caught the surprise in her eyes.
“Thank you, My Lord. I’m only happy that I please you.” She answered predictably.
It certainly wasn’t a lie, nor an exaggeration. Gabrielle, with golden hair falling across her slight shoulders, and the early morning sun filtering through the strands of hair blowing around her face. She looked absolutely beautiful. I didn’t even realize I stopped moving until Gabrielle’s eyes lifted and briefly caught mine.
“Very lovely, indeed.” I gently tapped two fingers under her chin and was rewarded with something that was damn close to being a smile. “Wait,” I tilted my head to see into her eyes, grinning myself. “Is that a smile I see... from my Gabrielle?” Which made her sort-of smile grow. I couldn’t help chuckling as I turned and we continued on.
The palace guard followed in our wake and Gods only know what they thought of our exchange. I remembered a time when the guard walked out ahead of me, terrorizing anyone foolish enough to stray into my oncoming path. Now I felt, rather than saw, their understated presence.
Gabrielle seemed quite unaccustomed to the people and bustle of a city like Corinth. I noticed that she began to follow rather closely on my heels as we strolled along the city streets, toward the docks. I had business today with the Captain of my fleet. According to two of my closest advisors, the man was running slaves as one of his little extracurricular activities. I wanted more than hearsay and gossip, and the truth was, if this man was kidnapping young girls here in Corinth to sell them in the North as slaves, I wanted to personally show him how I felt about that.
As we walked by the prisoners on their way to trial or judgment, many called out to me for mercy. I can barely remember the time when I would stride past them, truly unable to hear their cries for leniency. In the last few seasons, it grew especially hard to ignore their pleas. Now, when I look into their faces, I am able to see something that touches a part of me that has laid dormant for much of my life.
We passed by and I looked at them, chained, or bound, waiting for my wagons to take them to the large palace dungeons. A small boy, no more than eight or nine summers, stood watching me rather impassively as I walked by. He looked also at Gabrielle and I saw the light of compassion burn brightly in her intelligent emerald gaze. The boy had his hands in front of him, his wrists fastened together with manacles that were ludicrously large on his small hands. Yet, he stood there, calmly accepting the fate he could easily have escaped from. I’d known assassins that young, so it didn’t completely surprise me, a boy that age, headed for the prison.
We passed by and I easily caught the movement of Gabrielle’s hand as she slipped the apple from her pocket and pressed it into the surprised boy’s small grasp. At first, I was going to shrug it off and ignore my slave’s actions, but what Gabrielle just did was so unlike her. For her to risk punishment, her reason for slipping the boy food, an offense any way you looked at it, must mean a great deal to her. I wanted, no I needed, to learn more about this world in which my slave existed. Because of that, I stopped, and when I halted, Gabrielle did the same.
“Gabrielle?” I asked, not turning to look at her, simply knowing she would be there.
“Yes, My Lord?” she replied softly. I think she knew the moment I stopped that she was caught.
“What was that you just did, Gabrielle?” I asked evenly.
“Please forgive me, My Lord, I--” she began and I turned and placed two fingers over her lips to silence her.
“Gabrielle, I haven’t yet placed blame or even accused you of anything. I only inquired about your actions.”
She lowered her head. “I gave the boy the apple I had in my pocket.” She answered dutifully.
“I see. Why did you do that, Gabrielle?”
“He... he looked as if he was hungry, My Lord.”
“Do you realize, little one, that it is a crime to give prisoners anything, even food?”
“Yes, My Lord.” She again answered and I barely heard her response this time.
“So, knowing that you would be punished, you gave the food to the boy anyway?” I asked.
When Gabrielle nodded and answered with a soft affirmative reply, I questioned her as to why she would perform such a sacrifice. Her answer made me feel completely oblivious to all that went on around me, in my palace, in my city, in the whole of my country. It
was as if there was a grain of sand at my feet, and on it existed another world, such as our own. Subsisting, right there at my feet, all this time.
“He is only a child, My Lord. No child deserves to be hungry.” She answered.
Anyone who ever thought Gabrielle a stupid woman, evidently never spent any time with her at all. I found her insights into the world to be profound, thought provoking, and tempered with a compassion, I had to admit, I didn’t fully understand. This last statement was no exception.
I turned and walked back to where the prisoners stood huddled together. I towered over the boy and when I asked him his name, he looked up at me in terror. I was now about to learn my second lesson of the day, when it came to how others perceived me. I felt a hand on my forearm and turned to see my small slave waiting for permission to speak. I arched an eyebrow at her and she understood my unspoken communication. She leaned up on her tiptoes and I leaned down, closer to her. She spoke softly into my ear.
“My Lord, I think... I think maybe you are a great deal like your stallion, Tenorio.” She hurried on when I looked at her in complete confusion. “To people of a much smaller stature, you can be somewhat... imposing, thereby... well, intimidating.”
Always amazed at the young woman, she was quickly becoming one of my best, and most trusted, advisors. I took the hint and turned back to the boy, easing myself down to one knee until my head was even with his.
