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But she does not throw her chair back or scurry under the bed again, so I grip the knob—carefully this time—easing the door open as if it were to my own quarters.
She sits across from me at the petite vanity that had once served as Valindra’s when she was younger, simply staring at me with those wide, sad eyes. Any sudden movement will no doubt set her tense form into action.
Whether or not she is sentient, she has the instincts of a wild binmou.
Her hair is still wet from the bath, and I have the rare instinct to finish drying her off. But she is no child. She is considered a woman among her own kind. And ours, apparently. “There is no need to run,” I tell her, measuring up her diminutive form. There were taller ones. I could have chosen any number of them, but at the time she seemed… easy to handle.
She says nothing in return, her thin arms taut as if she intends to rise.
“I mean you no harm.”
The woman’s throat leaps as she swallows.
“I wish to apologize for my actions until now. I did not know until very recently that you could speak the common tongue, since you had not answered my questions.”
Nothing changes about her except her gaze, which flits to my crown of horns briefly before alighting upon the thin line of my mouth. She opens her own as if to say something, then snaps it shut again in reconsideration.
Magic burns beneath my skin. Teach her a lesson, comes a most intrusive thought. You are the master of the house. Demand her respect.
And if I do?
That resentment in her expression will flourish. No. I cannot betray her again. She has had such a dismal introduction to my kind that I will only verify her assumptions.
The longer I observe her, the more I notice that she is not quite the pest I’d made her out to be. The bath has done wonders for her skin, which nearly glows in the soft light of the room. Her round cheeks are flushed, and her heart rate increases as my eyes begin to wander, so I keep them raised. “I am sorry for your handling. If you’ll allow me, I’ll do my best to make it up to you.”
Her body relaxes, but only slightly.
When she finally speaks, it’s that high voice I remember from the bath, like a bird from Protheka that has gotten lost and found its way up here. It’s a melancholy sound, and even as she works to soften it, I can hear an edge of defiance that doesn’t quite belong to her. Almost as if she’s trying to mimic someone else. Someone with far more courage than she. “And how are you going to do that?”
My magic flares of its own volition.
I suppress it without moving a muscle. “Firstly, I have provided a wardrobe, a bedroom, and a bath, which you have already become acquainted with. Secondly,” I hesitate, wondering if her resentment doesn’t partially stem from the fact that I’ve neglected her basic needs. It has been a day, and I have not sent the zonak to deliver her food. “I have prepared something for you downstairs, if you will join me.”
Her distrust is evident when she doesn’t budge.
Does she think I mean to eat her?
Or, did she understand all that the King spoke of in her presence? I never considered that she may be privy to her fate as a breeder. Heat crawls up my spine at the thought. No wonder she shrank from my touch. She thinks I mean to ravage her here and now when it is the furthest thing from my mind.
“It is food,” I emphasize, “Are you hungry?”
Her eyes widen again, but it is not the fearful expression I’ve grown used to. Rather, it is a look of surprise and relief, one that brightens her soft features so they’re almost…beautiful. Not at all like the sharp features of a matron, but somehow still endearing.
Seeing her light up sends a different sort of shiver through me, one that makes all my little hairs stand on end. My magic races across my flesh, igniting a feeling I’ve long since surrendered for the greater good.
It’s a pleasure that runs deep.
It makes my mouth go dry, so that I have to run my tongue over my sharp canines. “I- don’t know how often humans need to eat. But you must be hungry after your time in the castle.”
She takes a cautious breath, her gaze flitting to the open door behind me. I think she means to make another run for it when she finally speaks. “Will there be others?”
My lips curl up at the edges. “No. Not if you don’t want.”
The human lets out a shuddering exhale. I can taste her fear and apprehension, even from here, but when she rises from her seat at the vanity, it sends a trill of excitement through me. Instead of backing away, she stands her ground, though it seems to take a considerable effort for her to remain in my shadow. Her threadbare clothes do her sleight frame little justice, and I wonder why she hasn’t raided the closet yet.
My nieces would have done so in a heartbeat.
But I’m starting to understand that I shouldn’t presume with this one. When I do, it never turns out the way I expect.
