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I know that because when I first got my position here, I traversed the library’s many aisles during those first few nights. I read every book I could find on the shelves about the creature I’m living the life of so that I’m not completely ignorant. Unfortunately, many of the texts aren’t in a language I can understand, so my education on the subject has been limited to the ones that are.
It’s far better to be a troll here than a human, though. As in most of the Dark Realms, humans are considered to be deceptive, dirty, and dumb creatures. We aren’t trusted, not even when we’re in chains. There aren’t many in Alcana, but the ones I have seen have all been the lowest slaves.
I sometimes wonder what Grey, Dane, and Kallum would do if they realized who I am … or was. If I explained everything, would they be glad to see that someone else had survived? Without Varrik’s rules that governed my narrow existence in his keep, would they talk to me, keep company with me? Would we be friends?
I suppose it doesn’t really matter now. All of us are just trying to live our lives in peace these days, move on from all the things that happened before we found ourselves here. Maybe they wouldn’t even remember me. We didn’t really know each other, after all. They’d probably just see a human and throw me out of the academy to starve in the streets. Or maybe luck would be on my side, and I’d be snatched up by a slaver to be sold in the square.
Sure, in the deepest, darkest night-time desires that I’d never freely admit to having, my disguise is that of a fae instead of a troll, and they see me. But I’m sure most of the females here have those fantasies or similar ones. They’re inevitable when met with males as stupidly good-looking as those three are, and I’m under no illusions. In the harsh light of day, they’d never notice me, and I wouldn’t want them to.
I see them, but they never really see me. I saw how they started out, joining Alcana’s ranks without a problem, becoming trusted academy employees over the years. I’ve watched as they’ve made their lives here, made friends, enjoyed the company of the city’s females. Anyone else might only notice the surface and assume they love being stuck in Alcana, but I know the truth. Their happiness is as much an act as me pretending to be a troll. I see the hopeless looks in their eyes, their frustration of being stuck in this purgatory, and the anger that they happened to be here just when the shield went up. They hate it here like I do, and they’ll run the first chance they get.
I turn to the hearth and begin to fill three bowls with a large ladle in the perpetually boiling pot of meaty stew the cooks have bubbling over the fire at all hours for the scholars who get lost in their work and forget mealtimes, so they don’t die of starvation.
I straighten with a gasp, almost hitting my head on the stone of the mantle, as a large hand kneads my arse cheek hard enough that I feel the multiple gold rings on his pudgy fingers. I whirl around angrily, already knowing it’s going to be Yeith.
He’s far more brash than he has been previously. Besides the awkward embrace when he kissed me forcefully in the hall, he’s not touched me before and never in front of others.
My stomach rolls, and, with outward bravery that I don’t really feel, I put my hands on my hips and stare him down. I affix a scowl to my face, channeling my outer troll visage. I wish I could hit him, but he’s still considered my better here, which means a punishment for me if I step out of line. Besides, I learned on my first day of being a troll that the bracelet that makes me look like one and feel like one doesn’t actually give me the strength nor the strong hide of one. I’d give a pathetically human-sized slap, but I’d then get a troll-sized punishment. And a lashing with a whip made for such a large creature would flay me alive.
I must look formidable even though I don’t feel it, however, because Yeith takes a step back, and uncertainty passes over his countenance before his thin, toady lips turn up into a sheepish grin that makes his jowls lift grotesquely.
‘Apologies, Thalia. The mating moon is almost upon us, as you know,’ he says, looking me up and down in a way that utterly repulses me. ‘Come to my bed later. I feel the desire to breed running through my veins just as you do.’
I take my own step back and turn to the fire to fill the last bowl, trying to hold my nerve when everything in me is telling me to just run away. A troll female wouldn’t show weakness.
‘I feel no such desire, Yeith,’ I say quietly. ‘Besides,’ I sidestep around him, ‘it’s against the rules.’
‘You must,’ he persists. ‘The moon is strong this cycle. And I’m a professor now. I can choose you to warm my bed if I like.’
I silently curse his determination and make a show of rolling my eyes. ‘If you must know, I have made other arrangements for the … uh … mating moon.’
His eyes narrow, and all pretense of friendliness melts away.
‘With who?’ he demands almost angrily.
I shrug. ‘A friend who lives not far from here,’ I say vaguely.
I just stop myself from adding a ‘perhaps next time’ at the end to soften the blow. It’s just that kind of talk that got me into this!
I shuffle past him with the three bowls, now full and steaming. Grey, Kallum, and Dane, and probably the other ten or so professors who are in the room at the moment are staring at us with amused expressions. They all just heard the entire exchange, and my cheeks redden. This time, in mortification that I can’t hide.
‘Don’t fancy a good mating moon fuck with Yeith, Lia?’ Kallum asks me with a grin.
He knows my name.
‘I don’t think she does,’ Dane mutters, glancing at me and then behind me … at Yeith, I suppose.
Kal has lived here for as long as I have; he probably knows most of the servants’ names. It’s okay.
Grey’s nostrils flare, and his eyes find mine, narrowing ever so slightly. ‘She smells of fear.’
I put the bowls on the table hard enough that one spills a little. I mumble an apology as I wipe it quickly with my apron, trying to ignore how entertained they are at my expense and that they can smell my fear, though I was keeping it off my face so well … that they know my name. What if they can smell that I’m human?
No, that’s not possible. They haven’t in seven years, so why would they tonight all of a sudden?
‘Why would a troll female be afraid of a troll male, especially at the mating moon, Lia?’ Dane asks no one in particular in that bored drawl of his.
Now, the questions are beginning.
