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He angled his head, realizing the shower was on. His guts loosened a little, glad she managed that much. A shower would help.
He flipped the eggs, careful not to lose the yolk, then grabbed a glass and poured fresh milk into it. He added two slices of spam on her bread, then gently laid an egg on top, followed by the sauteed onions and garlic. He sprinkled cheddar cheese on top and laid the second bread on top and set it on the table with the milk.
He made his sandwich next and turned everything off, taking his dinner on the porch, giving her whatever privacy she might want. Would be curious how the Arbiters processed this Viking dumbass for his crimes. There were no provisions in the law that would ever allow for that kind of behavior with women but the one thing that concerned him was where she came in. The court let a woman determine certain aspects of the punishment and something told him she’d do nothing due to fear of retribution.
Andthatwould be a fucking problem.
He’d refresh himself with the laws regarding that mess and be ready with a backup plan. Wife Beater needed to pay. She needed to be safe from him. He’d make sure of both, one way or another.
****
After her shower, Mia stood before the mirror in the bathroom, not looking in it. But she wanted to. For so many reasons. To see how bad her injuries were. To see what other people saw. What that Bullets man saw. Everything she’d been told about the vanity curse now sat in a giant cloud of doubt. Could she break the vanity rule at such a time?
She closed her eyes and gripped the white porcelain sink. How could the vanity spirit be such a threat while being so despised and detestable to her own people? How would a repulsive thing be tempted by beauty?
Husband punished her for looking at her reflection. But she hadn’t. At the water’s ledge, there was always temptation but she never fell. She’d overcome. She always did. She used the water as her training tool, determined to never give the spirit a chance with her. But even after turning of age, the rule remained. Even after marrying, the rule remained. When would she ever be safe from the spirit? Strong enough to stand against it? What was the point of resisting if you were thought to be a deceiver?
She would never be free. That’s what Husband had said. She would never be strong enough to stand against anything and would always need somebody guarding her.
A hot fury unfurled in her gut until her whole body shook again. She spit his sins into the sink, not wanting them a part of her. She would rather be taken by the spirit of vanity than fall to the thing holding Husband’s soul in its jaws. How did none of them see it? The mask of evil plain on his cruel face. The way it darkened his blue eyes before he committed its sins.
But her many prayers had been answered. Somebody else had finally seen it. She didn’t care it wasn’t her clan. She was not crazy and blind after all. Those men saw it. The Bullets man saw it. And just like her, theydespisedit. And if she wasn’t the only one who could see it, what did that mean? Was there another curse in the mirror with vanity? One that blinded you. But it had not blinded her since she never looked in it.
She turned away from the spirit portal.
She couldn’t risk being taken by anything now that she’d escaped. But how long would this escape last before she was required to return? What kind of punishment would she face if she did? If they believed Husband, they would fix her face so that vanity itself would be repulsed by her.
She remembered the Bullets man. He was like a mirror. He looked at a thing and you knew its nature in his judgment of it. He had the same gift the youngest children had. She could usehimas a mirror. To know if what she saw was good or bad. Mirrors reflected things. Even things on the other side if you had the Seeing ability. The Volva in their clan had this gift but were they being blinded as well by another presence in the seeing portal?
She learned to see such things even without a mirror. Like the Bullets man could. He had mirrors in his home, and he still saw truly. Which meant he must be pure. And she could trust him.
Her stomach rumbled at the smells coming from the kitchen. She wondered again what kind of man he was. He had no woman. Even their Chief’s had women. He did not seem like a holy man either. He used…many words that weren’t holy. And yet the manner in which he used them wasn’t unholy either, that she could tell. He was in the middle of two ways. She had to be cautious until she saw what these strange ways were in him. So far, she’d determined he was kind. And safe. His eyes reminded her of the lightning when it streaked across a dark blue sky. And there were two things in his gaze. A dangerous predator and a powerful storm. One hunted things with intention. The other, even with its natural fury, nurtured without discrimination. But the predator was the dominant of the two. It determined what things deserved his nurture powers and what did not. Husband had been judged unworthy of the Bullets man. She agreed with his judgment.
Eager to see what she might see in this mirror man, she followed the smells to the kitchen and found it empty. She spotted the plate of food and glass on the small wooden table and her hunger erupted.
She flew to it and sat, taking a very brief second to thank whatever god was behind her recent miracles. A moan escaped her at the first bite. What kind of man was this to possess such talents in the kitchen? Her tongue and stomach rejoiced at this strangeness. She looked in the metal glass and guzzled the milk. When done, her body sank in the chair with the rejuvenation. Again, she thanked whatever god had mercy on her as she moved the plate aside and lay her head on her folded arms. Maybe she could finally sleep.
****
Bullets paused when he entered the door, seeing Mia with her head down on the table. He closed the door gently and made his way over. She’d eaten all the food. He leaned, seeing the milk gone. Then fallen asleep right there. Too exhausted to do anymore. He carefully touched her shoulder and she nearly fell out her chair, her wide eyes wild on him.
“Just me,” he whispered with hands up.
His stomach loosened at seeing the fear almost immediately leave her. “I ate your food,” she whispered.
Her one good eye bore right into him, the icy blue difficult to turn away from. But that abuse on her face helped break the connection. The swollen, bloodshot eye was pure fury fuel. “I see that. You want more?” He picked up her empty plate and glass.
She shook her head, her stare hard on him as he turned for the sink.
“I have questions,” she said behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder, then returned to cleaning the few dishes. “Ask me,” he said, glad she did. He had a lot too.
“Why do you have no woman? And children?”
Odd question. “I took a vow,” he said easily. “To not marry. Which explains the no kids.”
He rinsed the dish, waiting for more.
