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His answer is a very soft “Yes.”
Smiling, I lean back against him. It’s a bit like leaning against marble, but with a little adjusting, it’s not uncomfortable. It’s been a long time since I’ve shared my bed for sleeping. No one ever wants to justsleepwith me. They always want something more.
It’s that something more that keeps me awake for a while, because I know Ossev has other motives. Yet he’s not pushing for anything more, just to hold me. I continue to think about Ossev, and a new idea occurs to me. “May I ask you something? Do you ever look at my threads?”
“I can, but not the others.” His thumb lightly strokes my bare arm. “You’re very soft.”
But I’m fixated on his answer. “You can, but Zaroun and Neska cannot?”
He shakes his head. “The High God has hidden your fate from us so it does not drive us mad. If we saw your death, we could lose the balance we keep here. We would be so upset that everything would be affected.” His breath is warm against my throat, and he rubs his face along the column of my neck. “I am not supposed to look either, but I cannot help a quick glance now and then.”
Flattering. But also confusing. “Zaroun sees my death.”
“No.” When I stir in his arms, he explains. “He sees you dying. He sees all things dying. It is different. He sees every living creature speeding toward its natural end. It is difficult for him. He has the most difficult job of all, I think. It is why the High Father keeps us separated into our aspects. In other worlds, the God of Time was not so lucky and I suspect things went badly.”
Poor Zaroun. I make a mental note that I will be extra kind and affectionate to him when I see him next. Not that this is a difficult task. Zaroun is sweet and wishes only to be given affection. To spend a few hours in my company. He never asks for anything more.
Ossev slides his arm around my waist and settles it there. “Is this…all right?”
I nod. It is because he asked. Ossev is trying, and to me, that’s everything.
Ten
I wakeup at some point, my skin prickling with awareness. Ossev’s form is still pressed to mine, his arm around my waist. He’s still, but I suspect he’s not sleeping. I close my eyes again, but something keeps bothering me, and I open them once more, scanning the room.
Neska is in the doorway.
His gaze is locked upon the bed, where I’m curled with Ossev against me. I can feel the heat of emotion in the room. Neska’s jealousy is palpable, and yet he says nothing.
Our eyes meet.
His mouth thins and then he walks away, disappearing down the corridor and I get the vague sense that I’ve done something wrong. Ossev did warn me that Neska was the most possessive, but my job is to serve all three of them, not just the one.
Is he jealous that the others are making progress with me? Would he rather that I treat the others with coldness while he gets all my affection?
Probably, now that I think about it. Annoyed at that realization, I tuck Ossev’s arm closer against me and snuggle in against him, returning to sleep.
If Neska wants my body, he can take it at any time. If he wants my affection…he must earn it.
* * *
I’m not entirelysurprised that Neska catches me when I’m alone later the next day. Ossev disappeared after I awoke, asking me for another quick kiss and then heading off to his work. I spent the morning with Zaroun, stroking his hair and telling him stories of the places I have been. Now that my time is my own, I want to eat a bite and then go and examine my garden. I want to see what I can make of the patch of land.
I should have known Neska would stop me.
“My lord,” I say in an even voice. “I was just heading to the kitchens. Would you like to join me or do you have need of me elsewhere?”
His gaze is sharp as he regards me. “The kitchens will suffice.”
I nod, trying to read his mood. He seems restless, but he could still be annoyed at the time I spent with his other selves—the other Aspects. “May I make you something? Tea? Food?”
“I do not eat. I do not drink.” Yet he hovers behind me like a restless spirit as I walk down the long ramp that leads toward the kitchens.
Of course I know these things. I also know that Aron of the Cleaver, who I served before, would sometimes take food and drink on a whim, just to sample what the humans were tasting. Neska, I fear, is being obstinate. If he wishes to be stubborn, though, I will humor him. I ignore the god hovering at my heels as I craft a small plate of dried meat and fruits. I sit at the table and drink water, eating methodically and in silence.
All the while, I can feel Neska watching me.
Once I’m done, I pick up my dish and clean the small area of the kitchen I’ve used. I wanted to experiment with spicing and drying some more meat and some of the fruit from the cocoons, but that’s messy, time-consuming work and I don’t know that I want to do it with Neska observing me so intently. It’s clear he wants something.
