"Red..." Doctor Hern looked with alarm as the early fog of morning surrounded the ship. Standing at the edge was Trosyn, leaned over the railing, heaving and retching. "Oh no, you have not succumbed to it as well, have you!" He asked, walking over to place a hand on her brow. Trosyn quickly drew away from him, wiping her chin on the back of her sleeve.

　　 "Don`t touch me!" Trosyn snapped, her gray eyes wide and pale.

　　 "Red.... it`s me, Dr. Hern. I wasn`t going to hurt you. Please, let me have a look at you," the doctor coaxed, his hands out to show they were empty and harmless. Trosyn regarded him, slowly lowering her hand which had been covering her mouth.

　　 "I am not ill, Doctor. I do not need to be examined," Trosyn said firmly, eyeing him with a hostility the doctor had never encountered in her before. He believed she must be delirious, which was not a good sign.

　　 "Why don`t we get you in, out of the cold?" the doctor suggested in as gentle of a tone as he could. Trosyn furrowed her brow and shook her head.

　　 "I just needed some air... I`ll be fine. Really," Trosyn said, her tone a lot calmer than before.

　　Doctor Hern looked at her critically for a moment longer, his tone firming. "Understand I can`t take chances with any sickness on board, Red. You know that."

　　Trosyn frowned, but then sighed and nodded her head. She looked around to make sure no one was nearby and she stepped closer to the doctor. "I have no infection, doctor. I know what upsets my stomach, and it cannot be spread," Trosyn whispered, licking her salty lips.

　　 "Miss, I am the doctor, you are not. I would know better what can affect the health of this ship," Doctor Hern said as patiently as he could.

　　Trosyn stepped even closer, lifting her round chin to look him in the eyes. "Fine. You can check for the fever if it will put you at ease. Let`s go."

　　 "So this is where you`ve all been hiding yourselves?"

　　 "Baldovo!"

　　 Volente sprang from his cot to greet Baldovo with more exuberance than Colto or Trosyn expected when his former roommate poked his head in. Trosyn had just sat down to begin yet another segment of her tales.

　　 Baldovo looked a little bemused by Volente and then glanced at Colto, giving a head tilt. Colto shrugged, then nodded, and Baldovo smiled, his eyebrows relaxing as he stepped in the whole way. Volente gestured to his recently vacated cot for Baldovo to sit, and he moved to sit at the desk. Trosyn remained on her stool, watching them interact.

　　 "Don`t tire yourself out," Trosyn warned.

　　 "Bah! Hound me not, woman! I know my own strength. If I wanted a nursemaid to hen peck me, I`d have proposed to you already," Baldovo growled, waving his hand at Trosyn. But beneath his ill-tempered response was a smile, which Trosyn returned. "Now then, you waited until I was asleep to get to the meat of the meal, eh? Or so Volente`s notes indicate."

　　 "It was starting to... ah... pick up," Volente said delicately as he began shuffling through papers.

　　 "Well then, I expect to be adequately entertained tonight. Trosyn, do regale us!" Baldovo said, stretching out on Volente`s cot.

　　 Soon after that incident, Sir Benold left on some vague business with his associates. I wasn`t packed off to be experimented on, but there was no guarantee that I wouldn`t when he got back. I was on tenterhooks the entire time he was away. But it gave me time to sort out my feelings. I even began to regret rejecting his advances. Perhaps if I had responded more favourably he would not make me go. But I also didn`t want to think the only reason he would keep me around was for his own, ah, physical gratification. Or, on the flip side, that would be the only reason he would be derelict of his duties.

　　 I wasn`t waiting long to learn my fate. A few days after he left, Mrs. Gray came to me and said I was to pack some clothes and be ready to leave that afternoon. I asked where, and she told me she did not know, only that a carriage would arrive to collect me. I was hoping in vain he was sending someone to collect me and bring me to him. As upset as I was with him, I`d rather deal with him than the unknown of some place of study.

　　 My hopes were dashed when I saw a carriage I did not recognize roll up. It was not his, nor was it driven by a coachman I`d ever seen before. But I picked up my gunny sack and got in. I had a long journey to think about what may lay ahead. I also had a long journey to think about what a coward Benold was, to pack me off like this without giving me his final decision, face to face, like a man. He often purported himself as being fearless. But he was a man full of fears and insecurities. This was just more evidence of it.

　　 I was taken to the harbour and brought into a small but heavily secured building. There I was put through a battery of uncomfortable tests, and talked about as if I wasn`t there by the two men conducting them. It was a dehumanising experience, but not much different than what`d I already been subjected to. Still, it was upsetting. They left to discuss me, and I listened as best I could. They were discussing making arrangements to send me back to Ayokonia. But then, a third voice joined them, and my heart sank. It was Sintol.

　　 The idea that Benold would let any of his shady partners know about my situation on top of sending me back to the mainland to be studied was a dagger to my heart. I heard him coaxing them that the costs of sending me back to the mainland was not worth the venture, and it wasn`t disloyal to wait until there were enough wildflowers to make it worth the charter. They said they were just going to send me on the next cargo ship. I don`t remember what he countered with, but it sounded as though he were trying to keep me in port. Which did not bode well for me. Because I knew he only wanted either money, or influence he could use to hold over Benold. I began to wonder if Benold hadn`t told him, but perhaps the doctor had.

　　 Eventually, that honey-tongued sapsucker convinced them to hold off shipping me away, and to send me with him for safe keeping. At this point I wasn`t sure whether to be relieved, or be filled with even more dread.

　　 Sintol came in, his oily grin on full display as his vibrant blue, almost violet eyes looked me over with unfettered greed. But I did not dare to offend him. Although he was the least violent of Benold`s cohorts, he was nonetheless dangerous. His battlefield, however, was always the marketplace and backroom dealings. I bowed to him and paid him all the respects he was due for his position, and he lapped it up. Of course, I don`t think he was fooled, but still enjoyed the appearance of submission all the same. It meant I was playing the game.

　　 Sintol took me in his carriage to his own dwelling. His property was not as sprawling or ostentatious as Benold`s. But then, he wasn`t a governor. Thus his house was smaller, but with the most modern conveniences and placed close to the market. On the way he was content to make small talk, about the town, but I could read between the lines. He was making sure I understood the extent of his power and influence. And when we arrived, he ushered me inside, past his housekeeper, and into his study for a private chat.

　　 "I believe you owe me," I remember him saying as he sat down at his desk, and bid me to sit in a cushioned chair. I did so.

　　 "I do," I admitted. I would not argue the point. The debts I was racking up, however, were not pleasing to me. Owing Sintol, Benold, and one of the natives was putting myself in an impossible situation.

　　 "Good, good, we understand each other," he said, grinning. But it was a dangerous grin that made my hair stand on end.

　　 "I think we do. Let`s get down to business. How can I discharge my debt?" I asked frankly.

　　 He told me that Benold was a hold out against his latest scheme, and he needed the Governor`s seal to move forward. And he said I was just the right leverage to change his mind. But that was business between himself and Benold. He knew I was valuable to his master. However, that could wait. He had a task he wanted me for first. It seemed he learned that I had helped to discover the valuable vein that Benold was mining, and he wanted to use my insight to investigate a parcel of land.

　　 To me this seemed fairly benign. But I felt there might be more to it than scanning an area for spirits. I suddenly realised my value to him wasn`t my fertility, but my spirit sense. This was an opportunity to make myself valuable to more than just Sir Benold. Too valuable to sell. However, I knew I could not use my wiles on Sintol; he was... of a peculiar sort. Women had no more claim on him than men; his only love was wealth.

　　 "And what is so peculiar about a man who has passions other than being burdened with a woman and children?" Baldovo interrupted. Colto arched his thick eyebrow at Baldovo then shook his head. Volente sighed a high, twittering sigh.

　　 "I believe some women are not considered burdens, but supports so men can focus on their passions," Trosyn challenged, remaining calm and collected in the face of Baldovo`s rankled demeanour.

　　 "Bah. Each to their own, of course. Colto over there can be a family man for the both of us. I prefer my life as an inveterate bachelor." Baldovo said, waving a hand at Colto, who remained as sedate and statuesque as he was wont to do.

　　 "Do you have a family, Colto?" Trosyn asked, not shielding her surprise.

　　 "Yes," Colto responded, his eyes narrowing. Trosyn paused, expecting him to go on. Then her eyebrows raised then fell as she put on a wry grin. She should have known better than to expect elaboration from the tight-lipped ox.

　　 "I am sure you are eager to get back to them, Colto," Trosyn remarked, watching him carefully. There was only the slightest softening of his stern demeanour as he nodded, but said nothing more. "Well, I guess I`ll get back to my tale, then."

　　 "Please do," Volente said, sniffing at Baldovo for his rude interruption.

　　 As I said, I knew I didn`t have a simple task before me. I was not taken to a tunnel as Sintol made it seem, but to a grove in the nearby forest where a crude stone altar existed. This was clearly once a sacred place to the native population. Not just sacred, but feared. I could tell immediately there were unseelie spirits here, and blood sacrifices had been made.

　　 "Everyone who tries to clear this wood has accidents," Sintol told me as we stood on the edge of the clearing. As I said, I could not see spirits, but I could hear them. I could sense them. And at times, I could see through their tricks. I went to the altar and knelt down, focusing. He asked me why I knelt there. It was then that I discovered he could not see the altar. It just appeared as a random boulder to him.

　　 "There are jealous spirits, the Eshyhon here." I reported. Eshyhon could be benevolent when treated well, but are very territorial. There are many different kinds, and I was not as well versed in them as I could have been. Benold was a modern man and discouraged me from seeking out what he called superstitious nonsense. He did not realise how real the spirits were to me. Not until much later.

　　 "Well how do I get rid of them?" Sintol asked me.

　　 "You do not remove Eshyhon. You only appease them," I told Sintol. He was not pleased with this, but he did not get angry. He waved his hand and walked over to me, letting out a low whistle. He went on to tell me that being returned to Benold hinged on how well I resolved this matter for him. As he neared the altar, I could hear a buzzing sound, like an angry hornet. I warned him to back away. He stepped closer and I rose, flinging myself at him to push him before he could pass the threshold. I remember he stumbled back and was very surprised. I think he may have been angry at first, but when a tree came tumbling down and landed where he had been, his demeanour shifted.

　　 "Are there spirits here now?" I remember him whispering in my ear as we both lay in the grass. I confirmed that they were, and they were not happy with his presence. I warned him to leave. This time, he heeded me.

　　 We stood a ways off and he said he wasn`t sure until then if I had the gift - if finding the ore was luck. He told me he wanted to develop that land, and would not let man or spirit stand in his way. I told him I could only listen to the spirits, I did not have the power to bend them to my will. Although if what Benold said was true, Sintol knew people who could. And that worried me. And if he turned to them, things could get messy.

　　 I told him I could try to reason with them. I do not blame his hesitation or skepticism. But I told him that spirits and people had a long history of entering negotiations, and was that not his forte? I could act as a translator of sorts for him to try and work something out with them, but warned him that he`d be starting off with an already hostile entity, and to conduct himself with the same level of caution he would when entering deals with other dangerous syndicates.

　　We agreed we would come back and try things my way the next day at twilight. I told him to be prepared to make a blood sacrifice and to bring some live birds. I recalled having seen some feathers in the mud near there and it was my best guess. But there was no telling what the Eshyhon would demand, or if they would even speak with me.

　　The next day we had our preparations made. I approached the altar and told him to keep back so many paces. There I listened. They did not speak, not with words, but I could sense hostility but also curiosity. I had with me a cage of two pigeons. I took one out, feeling and sensing as best I could, until I was certain I was not creating offence. I wrung the bird`s neck and spilled its blood on the altar. I could feel a shift in the air. Things grew quiet; peaceful. My offering was accepted. But they were still present, and they were still claiming that territory. I explored the area to get an idea of their boundaries, marking it with sticks with colourful feathers attached. Once I had the area cordoned, I spoke again with Sintol.

　　I told Sintol that the trees in that area must not be disturbed, and that the boulder he saw must be bathed in blood. However, if he forged an alliance with the Eshyhon there, the land would provide him with something greater than whatever he had planned to cultivate there. He did not seem convinced. While doing the perimeter I discovered something, to which I showed him. A rare fungus with that could bring on heightened awareness and visions. I warned him that they would not grow where there were not these trees.

　　I could see him trying to do the figures in his head. He approached the altar to get a better look, and I felt the buzzing again. Although I had ameliorated them to my presence, it seems they were still hostile towards him. I warned him back. He did not listen. From the trees a swarm of vicious, stinging insects came, moving with one accord. We both ran as fast as he could, but did not outpace them without taking a few hits. We jumped on our horses and fled, leaving some of our things behind in our haste.

　　Once we were far enough away, he demanded to know why I said it was safe when it was not. I said the spirits could be fickle, but he was not happy with that answer. I tried to convince him to give it time and to make a blood offering himself next time. He told me there wouldn`t be a next time. If the spirits were not willing to deal, they`d be dealt with. I had a bad feeling in my gut about this as we rode back to his abode, aching and itching from the welts left by the attack.

　　The next day Sintol was in better spirits. He informed me that though my negotiation with the spirit did not succeed, I still was able to provide him with valuable insight which increased the value of his land. He told me he delayed my departure for the time being, but to keep myself from being poked, prodded, and bred like a prized mare I would need to fulfil additional favours for him. Grimly, I accepted his terms. However, I was not necessarily sure I wanted to be in his pocket. But it gave me time to try and find some other recourse. I just needed to figure out a way to avoid that fate. I was determined to find a solution that extricated me from his grasp or any other underhanded dealings.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author`s consent. Report any sightings.

　　"Baldovo? Did you fall asleep?" Volente asked. He had taken a moment to pause and stretch from his notes, and noticed Baldovo lying on the cot, eyes closed.

　　"No... but I may soon..." Baldovo responded, eyes still closed and voice quiet and slurred.

　　"That is enough anyhow. My throat is feeling a bit rough from all this talking," Trosyn said, rising to her feet. Volente blew on the sheet he`d been scribbling on, encouraging the ink to dry.

　　"Don`t stop... on my account..." Baldovo murmured, turning to face the wall.

　　"I`m not, I`m stopping on my account," Trosyn said firmly. Colto got up and stretched, walking over to Baldovo.

　　"Come. I`ll help you to your room," Colto said, holding his large hand to Baldovo. Baldovo belligerently refused, but Colto remained where he was, hand outstretched.

　　"I`ll leave you gentlemen to sort out your sleeping arrangements," Trosyn said with a smile, and a hand on her stomach.

　　"Rest well, Red," Volente said as he continued to clean up his cluttered corner.

　　CHAPTER 9

　　 "Where ye off to, Red?" one of the sailors asked as he saw Trosyn carrying an empty bucket through a narrow passage in the berth deck. Trosyn gave him a passing glance as she walked around him.

　　 "Top deck," she answered quickly. His hand went out, barring her from moving past him.

　　 "I`m sure it can wait. Been seein` ye leavin` the gents` rooms a`night." the sailor remarked. Trosyn looked up at him with an arched eyebrow.

　　 "And?" Trosyn asked, setting down the pail and crossing her arms.

　　 "We`re told ta leave you `lone. S`fair, don`t want men fightin` over a scrap o` meat," the scarred sailor remarked, keeping his hairy, tanned arm in her path. "But what they don`t know..." The sailor teetered and Trosyn could smell the rum on his breath.

　　 "Well, I wouldn`t want to be the one to disobey Captain Galli," Trosyn said firmly, keeping eye contact with the man. She picked up her pail and ducked under his arm. He laughed, and at first Trosyn thought his bark was worse than his bite. That was until a firm hand gripped her shoulder, a thumb digging into the muscle before spinning her around to face him. Trosyn didn`t wait to see what his next action would be, and she swung the pail up to hit him in the face. This broke his hold on her shoulder and he staggered back in surprise, cussing vibrantly.

　　 Trosyn began rushing away when she heard hands clapping. Baldovo had entered onto the scene, stating his approval. The sailor who had accosted her had recovered his senses, and gave a murderous gaze towards Trosyn, and then Baldovo.

　　 "We`d better go," Trosyn said quietly, tugging on Baldovo`s loose fit top.

　　 "Right with you," Baldovo agreed hastily. Both turned to leave, but three sailors barred their path.

　　 "We`ve had enough o` yer high`n`mighties. No one takes a shot like that at me mate `n gets away with it," said a lean, dog-faced sailor. Baldovo lifted his chin and stuck out his chest. It was not an impressive display and Trosyn tugged again at his shirt, shaking her head. Baldovo breathed in deeply, but that only caused his lungs to rattle and he broke into a coughing fit. Trosyn put a hand on his shoulder, and the other sailors laughed at his frailty.

　　 "Come now, we can be civil about this!" Baldovo said when he was able to speak again. "It`s just a misunderstanding. You wouldn`t want an incident, especially with some of you still recovering," Baldovo said, his voice occasionally croaking from his own weakened state. "And you wouldn`t strike a sickly old man and a lady."

　　 "Oh yeah? You think that?" The sailor who took the hit to the face had come up behind Trosyn and Baldovo, wiping blood from under his nose. "Rule of the sea, blood means blood."

　　 Trosyn was scrappy for a woman in her thirties, but she and a barely recovered man past his prime were no match for the four sailors. It wasn`t a fair fight by any stretch of the imagination, and Trosyn only got in a few solid hits before she was on the ground, covering her head as a boot kicked her square in the back. She could hear Baldovo cry out and grunt in pain, another hit met her on her shoulder. Trosyn opened her eyes as she felt her hair grabbed, and just as the sailor was winding back an open hand to backhand her, his arm was suddenly grabbed and he was pulled away.

　　 Colto had entered the brawl. Although Colto was also outmatched, he managed to stay standing long enough for the chief mate to intervene. From chaos to order, Mici quickly had the sailors and Colto lined up against the wall, while Trosyn and Baldovo were helped up by a shaken Volente, who presumably had ran and got the chief mate.

　　 "Who started this?" Mr. Mici demanded. No one responded. They just looked down, eyes averted. Mr. Mici slowly walked up and down the row of battered crew. "Well?"

　　 "If I may..." Baldovo began, stopping to cough. He moved his hand from his lips, seeing the bright red fluid on his fingers.

　　 "Take him to Hern. Take both of them to Hern," Mici said sternly. Trosyn did not need to be told twice. Reflexively, her hand went to her abdomen, where it stayed, cradling her gut the whole walk to the stretch of canvas which constituted as the surgeon`s quarters. Baldovo and Trosyn exchanged glances before pulling open the flap.

　　 Later that evening Baldovo was having a laugh; even Colto was grinning as the three of the men passed a flask between them. When it reached Trosyn, she put up her hand, passing up on the offered brandy. "I`m sure those sailors are hurting more in their pride than anything, having been knocked about by a learn-ed gent!" Baldovo prattled before taking a swig. He began coughing wretchedly and Trosyn looked up guardedly, watching him carefully.

　　 "I guess Red is going to have a new meaning," Volente chimed in, seeming timidly proud of Trosyn having held her own. At least, she reportedly did with Baldovo`s version of events. Trosyn just remembered lying on the ground, being kicked, and hearing Baldovo whimpering beside her. But she did not care to correct him. She just watched to make sure he did not relapse after his ordeal.

　　 "That she did! Smacked Gold-tooth Jimmi straight in the face, bloodying his face. I told you, Trosyn can fight her own battles." Trosyn gripped her hands into fists. She took in a deep breath and forced on a smile, but her hand was again cradling her abdomen.

　　 "Not when it`s four on one," came Colto`s brassy voice. Baldovo looked up at him, passing the flask to him. He took a hearty swig, well aware he earned the indulgence.

　　 "Four against two!" Baldovo reminded him.

　　 "You dropped before Red," Colto reminded him, putting Baldovo in his place, taking another drink.

　　 "It`s good I got Mr. Mici. Colto might have crippled someone," Volente remarked, admiring his fellow scientist`s prowess, albeit with a taint of envy.

　　 "Or killed. Then we`d have a real problem on our hands! Ha... ho... oh..." Baldovo said lightly as he leaned against Volente, who he was sitting next to. Volente`s eyebrows went high and pushed together, seeming a bit unsure what to do. After his hands fluttered in confusion, he tentatively placed an arm around Baldovo, looking at Colto and Trosyn pleadingly.

　　 Trosyn rose and walked over, sitting on the cot on the other side of Baldovo. She then gently pulled him to her side so he laid his head in her lap. Volente seemed relieved to be from under Baldovo`s weight, but consternation worked its way into his features as he stared at Baldovo`s coveted pillow. Baldovo, his eyes closed, reached out, grabbing to try and take hold of the flask. Trosyn gingerly snatched it away from him. "I think that`s enough."

　　 Baldovo grumbled a mild protest, but Trosyn just ran her hand through his tight, salt and pepper curls. Volente watched this with a frown that made his chin look even more pointed. He had the flask shoved at his chest, and he took it from Trosyn. "But are you really alright?" Volente asked.

　　 "Just bruised," Trosyn responded. "I`ve been through much worse."

　　 "Ah... yes... you mentioned Vormind did... horrible things to you," Volente muttered. Trosyn looked over at him and sighed, then nodded.

　　 "Of which we will not speak. I have a feeling the Captain is going to have words with me tomorrow," Trosyn predicted to change the topic.

　　 "Why you?"

　　 "For all intents and purposes, I started that fight," Trosyn said.

　　 "Nonsense..." Baldovo said tiredly. "I saw... it all... he grabbed you first."

　　 Colto`s face grew very grave at the mention of the sailor touching Trosyn. Trosyn watched this, tilting her head. Colto could be cold and sometimes seemed to disapprove of her. But he was also very protective. Was it just that he was that way towards all women, whether he cared for them as individuals or not?

　　 "In light of what happened... if you`d rather not tell stories tonight and go to bed, we`d understand," Volente said, placing his hands on his lap, rubbing his sweaty palms along his thighs.

　　 "Ah, I had not thought of telling stories tonight. But now, I think I will. I was tired, but all this merriment has given me a second wind," Trosyn said with a faint smile.

　　 "Oh, well, then, let me get my writing supplies!" Volente said, springing to his feet and shuffling around the desk.

　　 I was in Sintol`s care for a day or two longer, I think. Then Sir Benold came, and he was in high dudgeon. Sintol had taken to dining with me, which Sir Benold never did. And when Sintol`s housekeeper announced Benold had arrived, there wasn`t any time before his shouting could be heard and he stormed into the dining room. He stared, shocked at seeing me there. His eyes narrowed and he looked very suspicious once his surprise had faded.

　　 "Carm Sintol! Return her immediately!" I remember him saying, lacking all refinement he had cultivated. He sounded like a petulant child whose toy had been taken away. Sintol just smiled at his antics, and I just stood up and excused myself. After all, I was property, and did not have a say in the debate over my ownership.

　　 Although I left the dining room, I sat myself in the adjoining parlour, and their voices were raised enough that I heard Sir Benold berate Sintol for forging his signature. I was able to gather that Sir Benold had not alerted the authorities after all, nor did he send word for me to be collected. That was all Sintol`s doing. I should have known, and reprimanded myself for thinking that Benold lacked the honour to tell me to my face if he would send me away.

　　 It sounded as though this sort of breach of trust was not common between the two. I know Sintol was not to be trusted, but Benold always held firm that they could trust one another. It did not seem to be the case anymore. And somehow I felt as though I were at the source of some of the discord between them. But that may have been my own vanity. I did have some, though I did my best to suppress it.

　　 The two men bickered for some considerable time. But Sintol eventually wore my master down into believing he had done him a favour, by getting my wildflower status on the books, and as reported, but then created necessary delays. This way if I was ever discovered later, no one could accuse him of having kept me a secret. Sintol`s flagrant abuse of bureaucracy was to my advantage, and vastly to my preference to directly illegal and underhanded dealings. But I knew the results would not be benign. Sir Benold now owed him, and Sintol still was trying to push him to support entering negotiations with the Eye. Sir Benold was cornered into agreeing to inviting a representative of them to his estate for a meeting, but he refused to agree to more.

　　I had a bad feeling about it, and being the bargaining chip used against my Master. Once they had a few drinks to make up, Sir Benold stormed into where I was calmly waiting in the parlour, and with very little delicacy grabbed me by the wrist and led me out to his carriage. I remember the way he gave one last look at his associate, no, friend`s townhouse before climbing into the carriage beside me.

　　Benold waited until we were on the road before he quietly murmured an apology. He then looked me in the eye, anxiety etched on his brow. "Did he treat you well?" I assured him I was fine, and there was nothing lacking in his care of me. That seemed to satisfy Benold, although he seemed still apprehensive. The rest of the ride home was silent. We had not spoken since he kissed me. We had not even laid eyes upon each other. The silence was well deserved.

　　As soon as I was home I was put back to work as if nothing had happened. I wanted to talk to Sir Benold, but he preferred to just slip into denial. My frustrations grew daily. I put it into my work and became an unholy force to dust and grime. Mrs. Gray was at her wits end finding work for me. But I could not keep up the fervour, as I had been sacrificing sleep and eating little during this time. Nothing was said about this either.

　　With the fear of Sintol knowing too much about me, with the fear of the homeland collecting me for tests, I could not remain idle any longer. I had never approached my master when I was not explicitly summoned. But I`d had enough.

　　I rapped sharply on his door. I received no answer. I tried the handle. It was locked. I knocked louder and called his name. Eventually, his door came open, and he stared down at me, in his dressing gown, and hair, which was usually tied back, unbound. "Did Mrs. Gray not tell you I don`t want to be disturbed?" he chided.

　　"She did. But I want to disturb you." I remember saying, causing his brow to wrinkle. I remember his hands were on either side of his doorframe and they gripped a bit tighter before relaxing and he looked away. I could tell he was on the verge of telling me to leave, but I spoke hastily. "We need to talk."

　　Benold looked over his shoulder into his bedchamber, and then he shook his head. "Into my study," he said. He was much too proper, even as a man who kissed his vulnerable slave, to ever let me into his room. Even though there was no one in the hall to observe such goings on.

　　So there we were, in his private study again. It seemed a fitting place to discuss the unmentionable. But before I could even speak, he raised his hand to silence me.

　　"I should apologise for my behaviour. It was inappropriate and ungentlemanly," he began. And I knew I was in for a long lecture on the virtues of a man of his standing, and even as he intended to apologise and point out his flaw, it would be quickly covered by how he envisioned himself. And that was the pinnacle of right and proper. Nevermind he stole, razed, and killed during the war. Nevermind some of the people he killed were civilians and innocents. Nevermind he kept company with a swindler, an instigator, and a sadist. He was a perfect gentleman.

　　I listened for a while as he laid it on thick, but then I interrupted him, which startled him. I almost never interrupted him. I told him that he didn`t need to say more. I then told him it was unbecoming for him to even apologise to me, as much as I appreciated it. This caused him to pause and puzzle for a while, trying to find a way to salvage his position as my master, my position as slave, but also treat me with the respect he felt I, as an individual, was owed. It wasn`t easy for him to reconcile all the roles we had played in each other`s lives.

　　"I can`t be a house slave and a lady. You can`t respect me with one hand, and put me in my place with the other," I told him. "Choose what I am, and stick with it."

　　This left him silent for a while. He paced. He muttered. He gave me all sorts of irritated and fretful glances. He had said he missed my frankness. Well I was giving it back, and I was beginning to believe he didn`t miss it quite so much as he thought. "Well then, you need another promotion, from house slave to... to..." I remember him floundering. I don`t know why I said what I did. When it first came out of my mouth, it really was meant as a joke. But after it had, well, I began to think about it carefully. The idea would have upset me just days prior. But my drive to survive and stop playing a passive role in my fate was rearing its head.

　　So I helpfully suggested, "Concubine."

　　He snapped his fingers and started to repeat the word, then stopped before the last syllable, staring at me, absolutely mortified. He uttered that he did not need a concubine, he did not need his associates KNOWING he had a concubine, or the prattling of the household staff about having a concubine. Concubines were for nobility, and at the moment, he was just a Governor. He had lost his claim to nobility after the royals, and thus the noble classes, were smashed by the revolution.

　　I asked him if there were any laws forbidding concubines. He sheepishly admitted there were some men who had forced their slaves to do fertility rituals and treated them like lesser wives, since the war had taken such a toll, but most of them already had wives. Having a concubine and no wife was simply absurd. How could one take a secondary wife without a primary wife? He then quietly added that he did not want anyone to see me in that way.

　　I told him to look around. Everyone already saw me in that way. Gossip kept circulating from the moment I was taken off the fields about what sort of relationship we had. And it was rarely seen as purely professional. He demanded to know who spread those rumours, and I told him who was not the point. I also told him that Vormind had encouraged and expected this sort of behaviour on my part. Sintol was even hinting at it.

　　He was not pleased when I pointed all of this out. He`d been blithely unaware, though I think through some concerted effort on his part to not see what everyone else was seeing. I told him that taking me as a concubine wouldn`t create scandal, it would normalise the concept and soon the gossip would dry up. What we did, or didn`t do, was no one`s business and left to their imaginations.

　　That was when he stared at me long and hard. The haughtiness left his tone and he asked me, "So you just want the appearance of the position, not the actual duties..."

　　He was clearly disappointed, despite the fact he was resisting the notion. Then I pushed matters a little too far, reminding him that he was the one who kissed me. He was irritated, since he`d just made a spectacular apology for doing so. I told him the truth was out, and he needed to face it.

　　That was when, in a quiet, sullen voice, he told me to leave immediately. I did not protest. I did not apologise. I simply obeyed and left his study. You may all be thinking I handled that very clumsily, especially as someone who claimed to be trained in the art of seduction. I said I was trained, I never said I was good at it. Well, I was adequate at it. But it was easier to seduce strangers. And my few missions which relied on it never lasted long before the primary objective was secured. And I, myself, was still unsure what I wanted.

　　Trosyn looked down at Baldovo, who had fallen asleep in her lap. Volente had been frequently looking over his shoulder at them sharply, only to turn and write furiously to keep up his shorthand notes of Trosyn`s story. "I`m losing feeling in my legs... so I think that`s a good place to stop."

　　"Oh... I`ll help get him up," Volente said, nearly upsetting his inkpot with the speed at which he stood. His hand went out, steadying the wobbling jar, fingers again stained with ink.

　　Trosyn gently patted Baldovo`s cheeks until he blinked. "Huh...? Oh... ow..." his hands went to his ribs, which had been bruised badly in the fight. But like so many injuries, they took their time to be felt.

　　Colto stood up while Volente was still trying to stop from making a mess. He walked over, taking Baldovo`s arm, and steadied the weakened scientist until he was up on his feet. Volente saw this and frowned slightly, but then shrugged as he slowed down in clearing his things.

　　Colto paused in the doorway and looked back at Trosyn, who staggered to her feet, legs wobbly and prickly. Volente quickly put out a hand to steady her. "Red," Colto said. She looked up at him curiously. "Be more careful."

　　"Psssssssshhhhhhh she`s got us..." Baldovo slurred. Colto shook his head and helped Baldovo back to his room.

　　"Will you need help? You are looking unsteady, uh... is it alright if I call you Trosyn?" Volente asked.

　　"Call me whatever you prefer, Volente," Trosyn responded, slinging her arm about Volente`s shoulders. He smiled gently and walked with her out of the room.

　　"It sounds like Benold really didn`t know how to talk about his feelings," Volente remarked. Trosyn nodded to this observation. "But I hope you realise, I think, in just about any culture, men just aren`t as open with them as women. We prefer to just show people how we feel."

　　"I know, Volente, I know," Trosyn said. "But actions can mean so many different things to so many different people."

　　"So can words," Volente observed. Trosyn was silent for a moment as they walked. After thinking that over, she nodded again.

　　"Maybe, then, it`s best to rely on both. And make sure our words and actions match," Trosyn said after some deliberation.

　　"Maybe."