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Oh. The feeling of being trapped returns again. “So those are your conditions?”
“If you want to leave, I will take you,” he says, his gaze locked on mine. “But know that you will never be able to return if you do go. You cannot be an anchor if you leave.”
I know this. Faith made it very clear when she was with Aron that she couldn’t walk very far from him or it would pain her terribly. I imagine it would be the same—perhaps three times as awful—if I were to try and leave the tower of my own accord. But all the talk of leaving makes me think of something else. “Canyouleave, Ossev?”
“I cannot.”
His expression is blank, or perhaps he’s hiding from me what he truly thinks about this fact. My captors are prisoners just as much as I am, and it soothes some of the resentment that I’ve had building. It’s not that I wish to leave, of course. There’s nothing out there for me to return to. But knowing that they’re trapped just as much as I am makes things different.
There’s an old Yshremi saying that a miserable sort always finds company. Perhaps that applies.
And yet…I don’t truly feel miserable. A bit uncertain of my place, yes. I would like more to do, or just even more conversations. But I have all the fabric I could wish for, a belly full of food, and three masters that do not beat me or pass me around to strangers who will want more from me than I wish to give.
And now I have a garden.
And a door.
“Thank you, Ossev,” I say in a soft voice. I reach out and touch his sleeve. “I love it. I hardly know where to begin to turn it into a garden, but I love it.” I give him a flirty look, resorting back to my old tricks. “Are you trying to buy my affections, sir?”
“Is it working?” His expression is wistful. “The others get so much of you that I worry I will be forgotten. Zaroun has already won your heart. Neska is possessive and will monopolize you if he can.”
“I am here for all three of you,” I say, and lean in, pulling him down so I can kiss his cheek. “As for my affections, this is a wonderful start.”
Ossev gazes down at me as if nothing else exists in the world. “Can I hold you while you sleep? Just to watch over you?”
Again, I’m surprised by his request. Here I’d thought I had Ossev figured out, and he continues to surprise me. “But your work…the strands. Don’t you need to tend to them?”
He grins, looking the most human of the three aspects. “The lovely thing about being in control of the past is that it is already done. There is no immediacy to my task.”
I consider this. “Very well, then. I think I’d like some company in bed.” I raise a finger at him. “But just holding. Nothing more.”
“Holding is fine. I will take whatever you are comfortable with.”
I slide my hand into the crook of his elbow and steer him back toward the tower. “It’s not time to sleep just yet, but I don’t mind company for a little longer.”
Ossev remains at my side for most of the day, which surprises me all over again. I keep expecting him to disappear, and yet every time I turn around, he’s right there, watching me as I tidy the kitchen and make myself food. He doesn’t speak unless I ask him a question, and I get the impression that he’s not used to holding conversations. I’m reminded of Neska’s comment that they are connected in a way, and perhaps they have a mental link that doesn’t require spoken dialogue. Whatever it is, he seems both uncomfortable and eager at my questions, and watches my every action.
I head up to Zaroun’s quarters for my afternoon appointment, and as I do, Ossev melts into the shadows, disappearing away. When I leave Zaroun behind, hours later, he returns, his eyes bright. “Is it time for me to hold you?”
“I suppose it is,” I tell him with a smile. I’m curious that I haven’t seen Neska on this day. Is he avoiding the others? Do they all avoid one another? Or am I reading too much into things? “Come, then.”
I lead Ossev into my chamber and ignore him as I ready myself for bed. I wrap my hair in the silk bonnet I’ve made to protect my curls, and take a bath, rubbing lotion into my skin to make it soft when I’m done. I change into the bright blue, simple nightgown I’ve made for myself out of the fabric here and climb into bed. The moment I pull the covers over myself, Ossev is there with me. He fits himself against my back under the blankets and wraps his arms around me, a little too tight to be comfortable.
Tapping his arm, I get him to ease off. “It’s an affectionate caress, not the clutching of a toy about to be snatched away.”
“Of course.”
I relax in his arms, and can’t help but notice that this is the first time one of them has shown interest in being with me while I sleep, like a partner would. I’ve never thought of any of them as partners, just beings I have to service. Perhaps we both need to look at each other differently. I consider this, and rub Ossev’s arm. His skin is chilly, but he makes a sound of pleasure at my touch.
“Are you comfortable?” I ask him.
“I…do not know.”
“You don’t know?” I smile a little at that. “You’re not sure?”
“I am not sure I understand ‘comfort.’ But I see others hold their wives in bed and they seem to get joy from it, so I wanted to try it.”
I turn toward him. “And are you enjoying it?”
