“I don’t think so.”
“You always insist upon entering my head. What if I want to see yours?” She leans over, head above mine and staring down. “I’m not going to judge; I’m just curious.”
We’re so close I can smell the maple syrup and cherry seltzer on her breath.
A better woman would respond with something profound, but I only manage to produce a whimper through my constricted throat. “I hope it isn’t evil.”
“Go on,” she softly demands, hands in my hair.
“Imagine if it was. It would—I couldn’t do anything about it. The world w-would be pervaded by it. It would be a horror that no one cares about and will never change. That I’ve participated in, every day for so many years. A-and the Ring! It would tell us, wouldn’t it? The matrons and priests would know if we were doing something wrong?”
She breathily whispers, “I want to only pry into your mind, but, our nation is thousands of years old. We accepted homosexuality thirty of them ago.”
Right, we can be wrong. Extremely wrong.
“I just hope it isn’t.”
“I would hope so too.”
Again, the matron’s words.Everythingis right under the Ring. Even the things I don’t want to be. Because it can’t have made something wrong.
I blink, stammering, “I hope it isn’t right either.”
She turns her head curiously.
“It’s just that—It’s like what you said about Ringborn. If it’s true that the Ring made some life that was meant to be servile and exploited, then why wouldn’t it be true about me too? How could I say that I wasn’t also just… made to serve someone thatdidhave moral importance?”
“You are not. I may only be an authority on necromancy, but I will speak authoritatively here: you have as much importance as me.”
My heart eases. She really would say that… after seeing me fluster and fail my way through her apprenticeship. “I’ll just stop thinking about it. Thank you.”
“You have an interesting mind.” She releases from me and sits back down. “Express it to me more often, if you wish.”
“I-I will, Mistress!”
Preparing for the Lights Festival is easy. Sit, wait, and there it’ll be.
Just a day away.
It’s painful, having a life so dull. Serving to no goals, no beautiful future. I’m an apprentice who can’t access the Ring, serving a mistress who also can’t access it. I’m sure if I asked, if I insisted, she would give me another chance.
I won’t. She looked so guilty with her last two gifts. I won’t tear out her heart for the convenience of my education.
I see her walking in and raise my head fromLove Marks and Werewolves. “Hey, Vincenza.”
“You talk to Piero too often,” she comments, passing by me to grab a seltzer from the fridge. “You read in here?”
“I don’t like to read in bed.” Except for smut. “It makes it hard to go to sleep.”
“Would you like for me to add a sacco chair to this room? I’ve had one in my own bedroom for reading.”
“That would be nice.” I make room for her on the couch. “So… what do you read?”
“I try to keep up on the state of necromancy. Newspapers, scientific articles, and the occasional sci-fi story written by a prominent necromancer.”
“Aw.”
“Bored by my answer?” She smirks. “What did you hope to hear?”
