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How am I going to plan a rebellion with this burden on my shoulders?
I had thought, when Fohri dragged the woman into the mansion, that I could use her as a cunning distraction. I had assumed that Fohri would be so consumed with fulfilling his own desires that I could sneak around the manor uninterrupted, with only Ihohka to worry about.
But there is no way I can do that now that I have to watch over this little human all the time. She is a feisty thing, and for a minute, I can see Fohri’s attraction to her, though I think his attraction is far more perverse than anything I will ever feel.
The human woman struggles against my grip with every step we take. And she never shuts up once. She is constantly begging me for help; help to get out of the mansion. Help to get away from Fohri.
My heart nearly stops beating at the sound of the fear in her voice.She is truly afraid of Fohri. She knows exactly what he is going to do to her.
Can you allow this to happen? Can you, who is working for the good of your people, allow this human woman to be raped, to be savaged? Fohri will leave her to die, you know he will.
I stop walking and force her to a halt. Then I turn to look at the human girl.She is beautiful, actually. Very beautiful.The errant thoughts float through my mind unbidden.
The truth of it is that she is beautiful.
She must have just been bathed and oiled, in preparation for Fohri. Now her beauty shines through more clearly. Her long, thick dark hair has been twisted and braided away from her face.
Her bright blue eyes should be sparkling. But instead, they are dark and almost dull with fear.
She is so afraid
When she smiles, her smile must be wide. I saw her smiling timidly when she spoke to Ihohka – and I do not want to think about why that bothered me so much – and she had dimples in her slightly rounded cheeks.
Her face is sweet and her beauty is clearly untouched. And she is a tiny thing. Tiny compared to me anyway. And maybe tiny compared to a lot of other humans.
Her body is healthy, supple, lithe, and rounded in all the right places. And it is clear that the sun loves her. Her skin shines with a rosy gold from extended periods of time in the sun.
“Be quiet.” My voice is gruff when I speak, only because my breath hitches in my throat every time I look at her.
“Please.” This is the first time I have talked to her, and instead of following my instructions, she is taking it as a sign that I want to talk to her.
Maybe human logic is backwards.
“Please, please help me. I need to get out of here. You know what is going to happen to me if I stay here. Withhim.”
She is pleading with me. I still have a tight grip on her arms but she has lifted her hands and is wringing them.For a second, she looks older.As if she’ll ever age, living in this house.
But for a second, I can see the old woman in her. I can see her, shorter, plumper, with graying hair. There are lines on her sweet face, and her skin is wizened because she has spent decades in the sun.
This image of an older woman is shining from her face at me so clearly that I almost drop her arm – that is how startled I am.
“Please.” Her voice is thick with tears. “Please, I need to leave. I need to get out of here. Please. I have a life, I am so young. Please don’t let him do this to me.”
She knows what is about to happen to her.
She also knows that she won’t make it out of here alive.
“Be quiet,” I tell her again and drag her along with me towards her assigned quarters.
Her scent, not the oils and perfumes that she has been slathered in, but her true scent, floats in the air when her hair falls from its twists and braids at the violence of my movement.
I cannot help but wince internally at how roughly I am maneuvering her. Her scent winds itself around me. She smells sweet and earthy and bright. Like sunshine and freshly turned soil and tagetes flowers.
I swallow and then return my focus to getting her back to her room. My thoughts go to Gavarn then. What on earth is he going to think when I cannot bring him the intel I promised him? This rebellion is never going to happen now that I have to babysit her!
Instead of being a useful tool to keep Fohri distracted, she has become a nuisance!
We have finally reached her room, and she pulls and struggles against my grip as we get closer to the door. “Please.” Her voice is hoarse, and when I look down, her face is wet with tears.
