But Simon was glaring down at his knife again, scraping it against the stone with renewed intensity, and Maria’s searching glance toward Rosa and John found them looking just as confused as she felt. “You’reconfiningMaria here?” Rosa asked, her delicate brows furrowing. “Why? For how long? I thought you Skai didn’t approve of —”
She was interrupted by Simon’s bark of a growl, and another loud, grating scrape of his knife. “This woman stays here, in Skai wing,” he said, slow, deliberate, “until she gains our trust. Until she learns to obey me, and honour all our Skai ways.”
Oh. So at least she wasn’t just trapped in this one room, then — but it still felt like a slap, a curse, aninsult. Because Mariahadhonoured Simon last night, hadn’t she? Or at least, she’d thought she had. He’d seemed pleased with her… hadn’t he?
Or had he, and now it was only uncertainty swarming Maria’s thoughts, coiling cold inside her chest. Had she already failed, somehow, without knowing why? Had she perhaps again insulted Simon, in some way? Dishonoured him?
“Well, we’ll try to come by for visits, then,” Rosa said, with a rather forced-sounding cheerfulness, though her eyes were glancing apprehensively toward John beside her. “Although, I hate to say, we’re going west tomorrow for a passage dig we’ve been planning, so… after next week, then?”
Maria managed a nod in return, and another halfhearted smile — and after a stilted goodbye, she and Simon were left alone again. With Maria still huddled under the fur, now gripping a stack of orc propaganda in her clammy-feeling hands, while her thoughts unpleasantly twisted and churned. She was trapped here. She was Simon’sprisoner. Until she earned his trust, and honoured all hisways, whatever the hell that meant.
And Simon still wasn’t even looking at her, though he’d finally stopped carving, tracing his blunt fingers over the inscrutable hollows he’d made in his stone. And then nodding, almost as if satisfied, before setting his carving aside — and then, with a purposeful flick of his hand, he beckoned Maria over toward him.
Maria twitched, but accordingly put down the stack of pamphlets, and shifted to the edge of the bed — and then discovered, to her chagrin, that the mess still between her legs was now rapidly worsening, bringing with it a rising, throbbing soreness. Not only that, but her clothes from the day before didn’t appear to be anywhere within reach… and in fact, they didn’t appear to be anywhere in the surrounding clutter atall.
“Um,” Maria ventured, tugging the protective fur a little higher. “Might you have my clothes nearby?”
Simon’s eyes on her narrowed, and his sharp claws seemed to visiblylengthenfrom the ends of his previously blunt-tipped fingers. “No,” he said flatly. “I have sent these for cleaning. Now come.”
His now-clawed fingers beckoned again, more impatient this time — and Maria cast an uncertain, uneasy glance down at the fur still gripped in her hands. It was far too large to drag off the bed and use as a covering, and surely he couldn’t mean, or could he —
“Come,” Simon barked at her, and Maria lurched her stark-naked body up out of the bed, her skull ringing, her heart pounding. She’d sworn to do this, and he’d seen it all last night anyway, and perhaps he had other clothes stashed around him somewhere —
But even standing up felt like a challenge, suddenly, Maria’s legs gone weak and wobbly, the soreness between them throbbing deeper with every breath. And the mess, oh gods it waseverywhere, pooling behind her on the bed, running down her thighs, exposing her with thick sticky shame.
Her hands were fluttering down toward it, trying in vain to cover it, to wipe it away — but a sharp growl across the room made her abruptly abandon the attempt, her feet shuffling through the room’s chaos. Toward where Simon just sat there gazing at her, his eyes flat and dispassionate on the mess still streaming between her thighs.
Maria jolted to a halt before him, her cheeks burning, her hands gripped to fists at her sides. And for a long, jangling moment, Simon didn’t say anything, but just kept gazing between her legs, and then, up to her waist. His eyes lingering, almost as though he were searching for something, and thatcouldn’tbe possible, not yet…
Good gods, Maria couldn’tthink, and she scrubbed at her face with her clammy, twitchy fingers. “Do you have something else I can wear for now, then?” she asked, her voice wavering. “Or even just something to clean up with?”
And to her vague surprise, Simon accordingly nodded, and grasped something on the bench beside him. Something surely fabric-like, thank thegods, and the relief shuddered up Maria’s back as he held it out toward her. “Here,” he said. “I wish you to wear this.”
This. Maria’s hands had eagerly clutched for it, shaking it out — but wait.Wait. It was only a slim leather belt, with two pieces of soft brown leather hanging from it. Almost as though it were… it couldn’t be…
“Um,” she heard herself say, hoarse. “What is this?”
Simon’s expression was wholly unreadable, and his hands reached for hers, and guided the belt up against her waist. So that one of the leather bits covered her groin in front, and if she were actually wearing the belt, the other piece would cover the back, and…
Simon wanted her to wear… aloincloth?!
“Y-you expect me to wearthis?” Maria said, her voice rising. “Byitself?!”
Simon’s face still hadn’t changed, but he jerked a sharp, decisive nod. “Ach,” he said flatly. “This is the garb of a Skai woman. It shall help flaunt my gain, and prove my claim upon you. It shall show my favour before my kin.”
Wait. Maria’s body skittered to stillness, the implication of those words somehow resonating far louder than the rest of the deluge currently flooding her brain. Simon wanted to show his favour with this… amongother people?!
“You can’t possibly mean,” she heard herself say, slow, incredulous, “you want me to wear this not just for you — but inpublic?”
“Ach,” he said again, cold, clipped. “From henceforth, you shall wear only this amongst my kin.”
His hand gave a vague, fluid wave, surely encompassing a world far beyond just this room. The Skai wing he’d mentioned, perhaps. And Maria couldn’t stop staring at his set face, her mouth dropping open, her heartbeat driving frantically against her ribs.
“Imustbe misunderstanding you,” her distant voice said. “You can’t truly mean for me to wear aloinclothhere —all the time?”
Simon kept gazing at her, and she could see his eyes darkening, his jaw grinding in his cheek. “Ach, I do,” he replied. “You no honour me, in this?”
And shit,shit, Maria’s promise to honour him surely hadn’t meantthis— had it? Aduchess, walking around Orc Mountain on display and dripping an orc’s leavings, like a — a debauched, depraved, vulgartrollop? No,no, surely this had been a mistake, a miscommunication…
