Interwoven

by Rene Folsom

  Servants don’t have any rights—ever.

  Seneca targets me with his golden eyes, then opens his mouth to speak. Before he can get a word out, the door clatters open, making me jump.

  “Why are you two entertaining this nonsense?”

  Graham, the third brother from the stage and the one from the hallway, speaks up. His eyes are a piercing blue, captivating me as he stands in the doorway, hands on hips.

  Greann is fuming, and I’m surprised there isn’t smoke coming from her ears.

  “Just stop already!” Vulcan barks. “You have no proof she stole anything from you, and you can’t rightfully dismiss your hired help on the first fucking day, Greann.”

  “Did you seriously just tell me I can’t dismiss someone when they stole from me?”

  Graham chimes in. “What did she steal, exactly?” While I know by his expression he doesn’t believe her, his tone is consoling and gentle, like a father coaxing a child to own up to the truth.

  “Does it matter? She’s a thief! I should know considering she’s from the same colony as me. She’s only been out of the hole all of a week, if even that.” Her stony eyes glare at me like she wants to crawl under my skin and kill me from the inside out. “She has never been trustworthy.”

  I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. Even after she was so fake-nice to me, teaching me how to braid and prepare her for her coronation… I already knew this was her game from the start. Dangling what she would call mercy, only to try to use it against me later.

  I should listen to my gut. It’s never led me astray in the past. I won’t start second guessing myself now.

  “It matters, and you know it,” Seneca says calmly. “We won’t tolerate a thief under our roof just as much as we won’t tolerate false accusations. You will no longer be considered our ward if you choose to reject a servant for no reason.”

  A servant.

  That’s all I am to them. It’s the only way they see me. Even as they stand here and try to reason with Greann, I am not seen as their equal.

  Lady Greann appears to be taken aback, but quickly recovers and folds her arms over her chest, a very unladylike action considering her station. “Then she needs to be reassigned. I don’t want to see the likes of her anymore.”

  “Not happening,” Seneca reiterates. “You will be happy with the worker we provide, and that is final.”

  While I don’t know him, I can’t help but feel a sense of comradery with the man. After all, he’s sticking up for me. Even if it’s in a capacity that is less than favorable to my liking.

  Then again, I’m not even sure why I care about the threat of dismissal. I don’t want to work for Greann, and she’d rather die pissing off the House Kincaid than deal with me apparently. I’m okay with that.

  I’m not sure what I did wrong to deserve to be shunned by Greann, but I do know I need to stay in House Kincaid long enough to find a way out.

  “I don’t understand why you three refuse to listen to my plight, especially you, Graham,” Greann whines while pointing in his direction.

  Graham continues to speak, seemingly the most level-headed of the Kincaid brothers I’ve met so far. “Because—we will not be told how to run this household, especially not by someone who just a few days ago was plucking cotton or whatever the hell it was you did before now. I refuse to believe you would disregard the life of another member of your colony just to assume some false sense of authority.”

  Graham steps closer to her. Even though he’s not facing me, I still flinch at the finger he forces into her face. Spittle flies from his mouth as he says, “You will honor our wishes, even if it means working with someone who used to be on your level. You will keep your place as Lady of House Kincaid by accepting the fact you are only here as a fruitful and obedient breeder.”

  Greann’s face melts into a pitiful expression of disappointment. “No one told me I would only be a slave to you. I was told you would love me.”

  This time, it is Vulcan who steps forward. “And if anyone were honest with you about your lot in life, would you have turned the opportunity down?”

  She shakes her head, and I am speechless about everything that’s unfolding in front of me. I’m not used to these mixed emotions I’m feeling. I’m embarrassed for Greann, even though she deserves this. Her naïveté is going to cost her everything if she doesn’t put a lock on her nastiness.

  “Very well then,” Vulcan says, his face an unreadable mask. He knows he’s scary large, and he isn’t afraid to use that size factor to his benefit when he’s intimidating even the lowliest of women.

  Seneca runs his fingers through his hair, his golden eyes seeming to darken along with the whole situation. “Now you know your station and you will abide by it, no matter what.” Greann doesn’t wait a moment longer before storming from the room, the door slamming behind her in waves of fury.

  Before I can take a breath, Seneca turns to meet my eyes. “And you are dismissed. Lady Greann won’t need you for the rest of the night.”

  I don’t dare argue. Hell, it’s the best news I’ve gotten all night. The last thing I want is to be around this group any longer.

  Turning on my heels, I bow my head ever so slightly, reverently, and begin to follow Greann out the door. I keep my pace slow, even though I want nothing more than to sprint from the room. I want to scream from the top of my lungs just how fucked up this world is and how much I wish I could escape.

  I can’t even get the massive door to click shut when I feel a harsh, unrelenting hold on my arm, muscle pulling me back into the space.

  “You’re not going anywhere yet,” Vulcan says, Graham and Seneca flanking him like bodyguards.

  So much for being dismissed.

  Dropping my gaze to where his hand is, I then slowly raise my head to stare him straight in the eye before trying to struggle out of his hold. “You can’t make me. After how she just treated me, I’d rather die than be her lackey.” The brothers don’t need to know just how hopeful I was of escaping this fearful house. Refusing to serve the lady will definitely put the kibosh on that idea.

  “Which is why we want you to care for the horses in the stable and out in the fields. Lady Greann has very little authority in this house, and she definitely has zero authority outside.”

  Do I have a sign on my forehead that reads caretaker of horses? I don’t know the first thing about horses, yet they probably don’t even care. That little charade back in Greann’s room has my brain fried.

  I should keep reminding myself I am not hearing voices in my head. Only crazy people hear voices.

  Behave, Zhavia.

  My mind and my mouth are on two different realms. My only thoughts are to free myself from this lavish prison I’ve stumbled into, yet my mouth answers without giving me time to formulate a plan.

  I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to but if the only way to survive is to shovel horse shit, then so be it. Except…

  “I don’t know how to properly care for horses,” I admit.

  “You’ll learn. I didn’t say you were in charge of the horses, only that we want you to assist in caring for them in the stables and out in the field. The field hands will help you acclimate.”

  What else can I do? I thought for sure managed to get here only to be kicked out of the house on my first day. Yet now it feels as if the brothers have taken pity on me, though why they would is still an unknown.

  It seems I’ve been thrown into a far worse place than the colony I left, even if the accommodations are a bit better. Deep down, I know Greann will make my life a living hell. The little power she thinks she possesses will go to her head. She’ll lash out at me and others to her heart’s desires. It isn’t in her nature to back down.

  Vulcan’s hand hasn’t left my arm, and I can’t help but glance down at his hold and back up into red eyes. I wonder if he can sense the steady electrical pulse I’m feeling as it continues to travel the length of my arm, the source clearly where his hand touches my
skin. His grip loosens into an uncomfortable heat that finds its way into my skin. He assesses me from the top of my cap to the bottom of my feet, his eyes are laser focused as he takes me in. I stand there frozen, waiting to be free of his hold on me.

  “Let her go back to her room,” Graham says with authority.

  It makes me wonder what kind of hierarchy goes on between them as my arm is released. All it took was one single demand from his brother for Seneca to let me go.

  It takes every bit of strength I possess to turn my back on them and walk away. My mind is telling me to run as far and as fast as I can away from this fucked-up situation, yet I feel somehow drawn to these men.

  I must be losing my ever-loving mind.

  I’ve never felt so confused in my life, and the lack of friends in my world has me feeling more lost than ever before. I have no confidants—no one in this godforsaken house I can trust. I’m used to being on my own, but with the dynamics going on in House Kincaid, I suddenly feel more lost than ever before.

  The only person I can rely on is myself.

  Talia isn’t waiting for me out in the hall, which only confirms my suspicion. I am utterly alone in this world. She must’ve thought I was a goner as well.

  Surprise, surprise. I’m still here.

  How and why I’m still standing? Well, I’m not going to try to solve that mystery tonight. My goal still remains the same. I am going to get out of this place if it’s the last thing I do.

  Quickly and quietly, I find my way back to my room. I’m not looking forward to tomorrow, or the day after for that matter. The only thing I look forward to is escaping this place.

  The shower I was excited about just a few hours prior is no longer a luxury I care about. I need to stay sharp. Ready. Ready to walk away from this place with my head held high instead of allowing myself to get used to lavish conditions.

  After taking care of my nightly business, I lie in bed and replay the entire scene over and over in my head until a smile forms on my lips with an idea that is simply too good to be true.

  I’ll be outside.

  Outside in the stables and the fields.

  I can learn everything there is to learn about horses. It can’t be that hard, right? Just the mere idea of using one of the horses to aid in my escape makes the corners of my mouth rise in the biggest grin I’ve donned in quite some time. A plan starts to form in my mind, one that keeps me occupied long into the night. Long enough that when I do fall asleep, the idea of freedom continues to haunt my dreams.

  I open my eyes to a ceiling of twigs and leaves, the dampness of dew dripping from the crevices onto my skin. I allow it to do so, the wetness cooling me, even if it’s only for a few seconds in time.

  Sweat drips from my skin onto the tattered cloth that covers me. The cloth is no use, though. It’s not like we get a breeze here in the forest.

  Suddenly, I realize my reality.

  I’m back at the camp.

  I honestly have no idea how I got here, but the stench of my surroundings makes it apparent I am back in hell.

  It’s no surprise Greann would have me sent back here. After all, she hates me. She also knows just how grueling this place is. To send me back to our colony is the perfect punishment, even if it means I have to live it.

  Maybe if I play dead, the workers will take me to the pile and I’ll eventually be shipped off to the nearest graveyard. Maybe then I can make my escape… this time, for real. Forget trying to piggyback off the selection. It’s now clear to me how flawed that plan was. But playing dead is like a free ride out of this pit we call home.

  And dead I will be if I’m caught again.

  I wake with a start, the hustle around me pure pandemonium.

  Servants noisily bustle down the hall and hurry to ready themselves for the day, yet I’m still lying on my cot wondering just how I managed to transport myself back to reality.

  Finally ready and poking my head out of my room is when I realize mornings in House Kincaid are utter chaos.

  Talia is running around like a chicken with her head cut off, issuing orders to the staff like a lunatic. I promptly eat breakfast, ignoring the other house staff as they gossip about last night’s selection ceremony.

  I choose to zone out and possibly rid my mind of the dream I’d had by thinking about my job of learning to tend to the horses. Just the idea of being near such a strong creature becomes more appealing to me as my time draws closer.

  After eating, I head to my private washroom to clean my hands, where I notice I have more threads of red escaping the confines of my cap.

  It must be the atmosphere.

  There is no other explanation. Back at the colony, the air was clouded with smog from the nearby factory. The skies here are blue and the air clean. I am able to pull in a deep breath and not choke from the filth.

  Still, I don’t bother to remove the red strands. It’s not like anyone will see it beneath my cap, which is to be worn at all times. Only the ladies of the house are permitted to wear their hair free.

  Refusing to stress over the small things, I shove the loose tendrils back into my cap.

  The cap may be uncomfortable, but I can’t care about such an insignificant inconvenience. I’ve been assigned to be outside, which is a far more appealing duty compared to caring for Greann or heading back to the colony.

  That is one wicked nightmare I never wish to return to.

  I’m a bit surprised to find Talia waiting for me out in the hall when I exit the bathing room.

  “What did you do to pull stable detail?” she asks, though her tone is anything but kind.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.” Her hands on her hips, the scowl on her face telling me she’s not in the playing mood. “Whose dick did you have to suck to get an outside assignment?”

  There are moments in my life when I know how I choose to react will determine if I get in a world of trouble or not.

  This is one of them.

  Talia, for reasons unknown to me, is out for my blood. I don’t know why. She and I are in the same predicament, as far as I can tell. We’re both slaves—kept against our will and forced to work for scraps. We don’t get to come and go as we please.

  I’ve learned my lesson, and I wonder if Talia is still stuck in denial mode. My mother taught me that there is only one person who is going to take care of me—and that’s me. In a moment of weakness, I thought for the briefest of moments Greann and I may be able to form a comfortable working relationship. She proved last night I was wrong, and my mother was right.

  So instead of reacting to Talia’s words, I smile and shove past her. I don’t know where I’m going and I was hoping someone would show me the way, but it sure as hell won’t be Talia if she’s so jealous of my assignment.

  I’m still walking when I see a door at the end of the corridor open, displaying an old man with a gray beard standing next to Admiral Willis.

  “You may just survive House Kincaid, girl. It’s only your second day, yet you’ve managed to get stable detail. I’m told you were handpicked by Graham. Those horses are his pride and joy, and he’s only trusted one man to care for them so far. Do you have prior experiences with horses?” Admiral Willis asks with a quirk of his brow.

  “No, Admiral.”

  He grunts and gestures toward the older man who is holding the door. “Watch her and make sure she is always in your line of sight. If I find out she’s left on her own, I’ll hold you personally responsible.”

  The older man gives a curt nod and motions with his head for me to follow him. Not hesitating, I do as he says. The last thing I want is for him to be punished for my actions, or lack thereof.

  The warmth of the sun hits me like a bolt of lightning as I step outside. The golden rays heat every inch of my skin, enfolding me in its warm embrace. I feel rejuvenated. Full of energy.

  I hold in my smile.

  Barely.

  Following the old man as he leads me down a cobblestone path,
his thumb clearly a necessity as he passes through the biometric gates. After the fear of stepping beyond the boundaries of the house, I breathe a sigh of relief and take in all my surroundings. The sound of water can be heard off in the distance, fueling my ears with an overwhelming feeling of bliss. A soft note of something flowery floats into my nose, and I can’t seem to hold back the sigh that escapes my lips. The old man glances back at me over his shoulder and shakes his head. He probably thinks I am foolish, and that’s okay.

  Keep thinking that, old man.

  An enclosure is off to the right of the path, its beauty capturing my attention. It appears to be a wooden shed, complete with weathered oak planks and a corrugated iron roof.

  As we enter the picturesque building, I almost lose my footing. The floor has recently been sprayed down, the scent of old straw and mud mixed in with wheat and the smell of animals has me searching for the source.

  The last horse I saw was in the colony. Compound horses were never cared for like they deserved—yet neither were the people. The poor horse was starving, barely able to pull the cart that was used to move rocks. Still, I need to put those memories out of my brain and my life. All I really need to do is focus on getting the hell out of here, and these horses just might be the ticket.

  A black plastic bucket of water hangs on the inside of each stall, the top half opened to allow the horses to peer at visitors. There are a handful of the animals, all of them regal.

  “Welcome to the Shire’s Den. That’s what the Masters of House Kincaid call this place. These are their horses, to which they all hold very dear. You are to feed them, brush them, and take them out to stretch their legs. You are never to ride them, unless given instructions to do so, and there will never be an exception to this rule. My name is Langston if you need anything.”

  Just when I thought he would turn to walk away, he instead stands there staring at me expectantly. I’m a bit glad he hasn’t left yet. After all, I’m not ready to be alone with these creatures, no matter how gallant they may seem.

  “What kind of horses are these?” I ask as I attempt to reach out to one of the steeds. “They are enormous.”