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He approaches in a way that is almost hesitant, as if he’s not certain he should be here. I give him an encouraging smile, patting the edge of the tub. “Did you wish to see what I looked like naked?” I guess, trying to determine his thoughts. In a way, his mannerisms remind me of a master I once had, a virgin lordling who was uncertain in the bedroom due to his inexperience. “You but have to ask and I’m happy to let you look your fill.”
“I know what you look like,” he says. “I have seen the entirety of your thread.”
I flinch at that. Of course. I’m still thinking that he’s human in any way. That’s my first mistake. “I did not mean to presume—”
“I am curious, though. Most females who are watched in a bath by an unknown male scream or are terrified. You show no fear, yet you did not know I was watching. Why is that?” He tilts his head, the movement jarring and inhuman in its jerky rapidity.
“Well,” I say, sitting up in the water enough that my breasts rise from beneath the surface. His gaze goes there automatically, and that’s a very human reaction. Hmm. I remember suddenly that they need an anchor because they lack humanity. They look human, they sound human, but in certain areas, they are clearly not human. Perhaps the bulk of my job will be to educate. “Unlike a lot of women, I have lived in servitude all my life. My body has been traded many times and I have no shame of nudity. There is nothing I have that belongs to me, even now.”
The Spidae’s head tilts again, his expression quizzical. He stands perfectly straight, his shoulders tense and his hands clasped behind his back as his long robes flow about his body. “You do not belong to yourself?”
“I am your anchor,” I reply.
“Yes. But it is not slavery.”
“Isn’t it?” I offer him a smile to take the sting out of my words, drawing my knees up and hugging them. “I am yours now, to serve you in all ways. You’ll forgive me if I don’t see how that is all that different from slavery.” I gesture at my surroundings. “I have been taken away from my friends and told my life will start over now. This has happened to me a great many times, each time I was sold to a new master.”
“But you volunteered for this,” the Spidae says, his voice stiff. “Thus it is not slavery.”
“Servitude, then,” I correct, resting my arms on my knees. “But you have seen my thread. Did you think I have a great many choices ahead of me?”
“I cannot see the future,” he says. “My domain is the past.”
“Ah.” I pause, because this doesn’t make sense to me. “Then how did you know about Solat’s future?”
“My brother,” he says, as if that explains everything.
It doesn’t. It only leaves me with more questions, but it’s clear this man—god—doesn’t know how to answer them. It’s another thing we’ll have to work on, I guess. Patience, Yulenna, I remind myself. They have been gods for all eternity. It will take time for us to figure each other out. I open my mouth to ask another question and my stomach lets out a loud growl.
The Spidae blinks, his head cocking like a dog’s. “That embarrasses you.”
I grimace. “A little, yes.”
“You are hungry.” When I nod, he continues. “Why do you not eat?”
As if I’ve had a chance? It’s been a whirlwind ever since the Spidae arrived in Faith’s quarters and declared they needed an anchor of their own. I don’t think my head has stopped spinning for a single moment, even though I know I’ve sat in this bath for at least an hour. There’s too much up in the air for me to relax. But I gesture at the spiderweb-covered walls. “I know there is food in the pods, but I have no knife to open them. And it doesn’t feel right to go around prying things down.”
“Why not?”
“This doesn’t feel like my home.” I spread my hands in a helpless gesture. “You pulled me here and didn’t allow me to get my things or visit my friends one last time. Now I’m in a chamber that has no windows or doors. It feels like a cage.”
“But…it is safe.”
“How safe do I need to be? Other than Aron’s party, you’re the only ones here!”
The Spidae blinks at this, as if it genuinely did not occur to him that I might not enjoy a room that’s like a tomb. “You would prefer different quarters?”
“If it’s not too much to ask, I would like a room with a window. I’ve always wanted one, and if I’m going to be spending the rest of my life here, I would love to have a view. As for a door…it’s a necessity for me. I can’t travel through spiderwebs like you can.” I hesitate and then add, “Unless you want me in one room and only one room.”
“This is your home now. You should come and go as you please.”
It doesn’t feel like my home. It doesn’t feel friendly at all. But I manage a small smile at his polite offer. “Then will you show me around? How things are laid out? So I’m not afraid?”
He blinks, the movement slow and thoughtful and somehow meaningful, even as his body remains completely still. “I will escort you, yes.”
I beam a smile at him. “Thank you. I would love that.” I stand up in the tub, water cascading down my body, and hold a hand out, indicating he should hand me the towel waiting nearby.
The look he gives me is quizzical again, and it’s clear he doesn’t grasp what I’m asking for. He also can’t take his eyes off my naked, wet body, and I suspect that seeing me in the flesh is very different than seeing me via my thread.
