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I say several silent curses.
The people coming out of the shed can hear and see me, but they don’t seem to care about my presence. Instead, the dark elf man, and woman, take their time straightening their clothing.
The woman looks at me down her nose, with narrowed eyes, as she rights her beautiful dress. I have seen the dark elf man several times throughout the day and night. He was the life of the party, and every instinct in my body told me to stay away from him.
That’s a wrong ‘un, that is, Agatha’s dry, crotchety voice resounds in my head, as I look at the dark elf. I heard several people call him Fohri, from where I stood on the outskirts of the garden. And as I look at the rich, decadent fabrics of his clothing, I can tell that he is a nobleman.
Is he part of the Renziu family?
I know that the Renzius are important and technically rule over this land, and that this party was in honor of them, but that is all the information I have gleaned from listening to Vetrin and his many acquaintances throughout the years.
I keep my eyes down as the woman hurries past me. The dark elf—Fohri,I think as his name suddenly springs into my mind—keeps hiseyes on me. They have not left me since he finished smoothing down the front of his shirt.
His walk slows as he gets closer to me. I remain as demure as I can, and curse the fact that the front of my dress shifted lower as I hurried to the shed, revealing more of my chest. I have a feeling that the dark elf is looking more at my chest than at me.
When he is right in front of me, I curtsy the way I have been taught.The truth of his wealth is obvious the closer he gets. His shirt is pure cotton, and his jacket is jacquard silk.
He wears real leather boots, and in fact, wears more jewelry than the average dark elf woman at the party has.
“I’m sorry.” The words come out in a stutter, as I come up from the low curtsy. “I’m sorry.”
I try to hurry past the dark elf, but he is faster than I am and clutches my upper arm, and pulls me painfully toward him.
That is going to leave a bruise.Again, Agatha’s voice resonates in my head.
“Well, well, well.” His voice is dripping with seduction, and I have to swallow my revulsion down. “What do we have here?”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I tell him, my voice low. “I just want to get to work, Sir.”
“Look at me.” His voice is as low as mine but is more commanding. I am forced to look up at him, and when I do, he grins at me. There is a spark in his eyes that scares me. It’s the spark of madness.
He still keeps a sharp, painful grip on my arm, but brings his other hand to my face. He brushes the hair out of it, and then strokes down the line of my jaw with his finger.
I have to force myself to remain still, to not flinch away from him.
Don’t disrespect them, ever.Agatha’s voice commands me. She taught me everything I know, and I will listen to her advice until I die.
Don’t show weakness, either, but whatever you do, don’t disrespect them.
“Well.” The dark elf’s voice is syrupy. Again, bile rises in my throat. “Why is a beautiful slave like you wandering around unattended? You should be on your master’s lap with his hands up that pretty skirt of yours.”
I flinch then and swallow the expletive that tried to explode from my lips.
He notices the movement right away and his smile widens. “You know...” He leans down to whisper in my ear. His breath is stale, and the fumes of liquor make my stomach turn. “Bad things happen to beautiful women who wander about alone.”
How am I going to get out of this?
How am I going to get out of this without being violated?
“Eleanor? What are you doing?”
I nearly start crying at the sound of Vetrin’s voice behind me. My master is looking at me with pure surprise on his face when I turn to see him. His eyes widen when he looks at the dark elf who is still holding me painfully tightly.
“My apologies Master Renziu,” I hear my master saying, and my stomach drops when he says the name ‘Renziu’. “I hope this slave wasn’t bothering you.”
You are so screwed.
Renziu?
