AllFreeNovel
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I’m silent as we watch the baker as he works. He uses a scoop to add flour to a bowl, and then water, and something from a jar. He adds salt and a few drops of oil, and then begins to work the paste into a ball, slapping it before putting a towel over the bowl and pushing it aside.
“What was that in the jar?” I ask, looking up at Neska in disappointment. “I don’t know what it was.”
He shrugs, his shoulders fluid. “We shall have to watch more.”
We continue to watch the mirror, and even though another bowl of ingredients is made—this time with herbs added to it—I still don’t know what’s in the jar. I crane my head as we watch the baker’s movements, as if that will somehow help me understand what he’s doing. But when he turns back to the racks of bread behind him, I realize that the demonstration is done for now. Disappointed, I turn back to Neska. “I’m understanding your frustration now.Just because you see someone do something doesn’t mean that it’s explained. There could be anything in that jar.”
He nods, gazing down at me. “I will keep an eye on this thread for you. If he mentions it in passing, I will make note of it.”
I give his arm a squeeze. “Thank you.” I turn to the mirror, watching as the stranger continues to work in the bakery. “You can watch multiple strands at once?”
“Hundreds.”
Hundreds? My stars. I rub his arm in sympathy, imagining the headache that must be. “Doesn’t that get exhausting?”
The look on his face grows puzzled, as if he’s never considered this. “Perhaps this is why the High Father wished for us to have an anchor. To ease us.”
I feel a little guilty at that, because I haven’t been doing a lot of easing lately. I think the High Father would probably want me as enthusiastic as Neska and Ossev do, though. I rub Neska’s arm again. “I really appreciate you showing me this. It’s helped me understand a lot.”
“But not bread.”
“No, not bread.” I glance up at him, smiling. Was that a joke? It almost sounded like a joke.
“You may keep the mirror,” he says, lifting a finger and tracing it around the edges of the glass. “I will have it placed into your quarters. If you wish to see something, all you need to do is ask to look at it, and your request will come to me.”
Again, my jaw drops. He’s going to let me snoop on whoever I want? That feels…naughty and exciting all at once. “Really?”
“I would not lie.”
“I know. I just—” I look over at the mirror when there’s a flash of motion, and to my surprise, a woman enters the bakery kitchen. She pulls on an apron and marches towards the man covered in flour. He stops what he’s doing and tilts his head, and the woman kisses him. It’s a quick kiss, once, twice, and they’re clearly familiar with one another. Then, the man pauses, gazes at the woman, and they kiss again…this time, deeper.
I peek up at Neska and he’s watching with utter fascination. Surely he’s watched people kiss before? I’d wager anything that he’s watched them fuck, too. Perhaps this is another one of those “can’t comprehend” moments. When he looks down at me, his gaze moves to my mouth, his expression thoughtful.
Well now, this I know how to do. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“I don’t understand the meaning behind it. Pressing mouths seems…wet.”
“Your bath was wet and you enjoyed that,” I point out, running a finger along his arm.
He makes a sound that might be annoyance, might be agreement.
“Kissing is sharing an intimacy with your partner,” I tell him. “It’s mouths and tongues meeting to taste and pleasure one another. In a way, it’s a bit like having sex.”
Neska eyes me thoughtfully. “And you like kissing.”
It’s a statement, not a question. “I have in the past.”
“But not all kisses.”
“No, not all kisses. Some are not given with the intent of pleasure. Some are not given at all.” I shrug. “But a willing kiss with the intention of sharing something with a partner you care for? Those are lovely. Tender. Sweet. Very enjoyable.”
“Then I want to kiss.” He gestures at me as if I should take command. “Show me how it is done.”
“Well, you’re taller than me.” I slide a hand up to the neck of his robe and give it a gentle tug. “You’ll have to bend down.”
A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, as if he doesn’t like the thought of bending for anyone.
“Or we could go into my rooms and both of us sit on the bed, side by side, and kiss there.” I tug his collar again. “But as we are, my mouth can’t reach you. I don’t know if you have noticed, but you are very tall, my lord.”
