Page 41 of The Prisoner's Gambit
Maureen’s new clothing was clean. At least she had that going for her. Of course, working in the home of one of the elite families in the Mondarian leadership caste meant they would expect nothing less of her. Especially as it would fall to her to keep not only herself, but also their home, in a state of pristine condition.
She’d been thoroughly relaxed when the Skrizzit began the tattooing process, applying fine lines all over her body with an amazingly skillful hand. But having so much done to her at once had been something of an overwhelming amount by the time she was finished.
With the addition of a large array of runes added to the mix, their shapes required more work and more powerful pigment, and as such Maureen left the session aching from head to toe, feeling like she had just gone twelve rounds with a prize fighter.
The only one that did not hurt, surprisingly, was her new Infala, resting atop her breastbone. That one felt warm but soothingly so, and though she had never had a tattoo before, especially not one made of living alien pigment, it somehow seemed a natural part of her. A reassuring presence in the middle of her chest.
She was allowed to sleep after the Skrizzit had completed their work, her body recovering from the ordeal. Free woman or prisoner, anyone receiving their runes was allowed this grace period no matter who they were or what their situation.
Once she awoke, however, her hardship would begin.
“What are you—Ow!” she gasped as a pair of waiting guards helped her to her feet as soon as she roused from her slumber and sat up. “Hey, take it easy.”
“Wearetaking it easy,” the female of the pair replied. “You have been given your rest period, but now you are to be delivered to your place of indenture.”
“That doesn’t sound so good,” she grumbled, moving a little easier now that her limbs had proper circulation. “Hey, how long was I out?”
“As long as you needed, as is customary,” the male guard replied.
“You slept well and should be in good form when we arrive at the vice quaestor’s residence.”
“The what?”
“You are to serve Vice Quaestor Tormik’s house,” the woman clarified. “He and his mate live in one of the finer residences in the city. Consider yourself fortunate in this assignment. It will be hard work, but the environs are pleasant, given what will be asked of you.”
Maureen was about to ask what the hell a vice quaestor even was, but she felt it would be wise to hold her tongue right about now. Her head was still feeling a bit fuzzy, and even if they did explain the intricacies of alien elites and their titles, much of it wouldn’t stick.
“Uh, okay. Thank you,” she said, walking more steadily toward the door. “Please, lead the way.”
The male scoffed at her. “Weareleading the way. Do not deign tell us what to do ever again,servant.”
So, there it is. I’m the bottom of the barrel,she quietly lamented.Fuck. Even back home I wasn’t this bad off. They’ve never even seen a human before, so aren’t I supposed to be the cool new exotic thing? How the hell did I get into this mess?
“What is it you wish to say?” the female guard asked, stopping abruptly, an impatient look in her eye.
“Say? Uh, nothing.”
“Your lips were moving.”
Maureen’s inner monologue was apparently not as internal as she thought it was.
Shit, she thought, mentally slapping herself for the screw-up. “Oh, I was just talking to myself, is all,” she said, hoping the guards would just let it go at that.
The woman stared at her long and hard, her jaw flexing slightly. Maureen didn’t know what she would do if they decided she was being a problem. She had no idea where to run, or how she could get out of the city if the opportunity even presented itself.
On top of that, these guards lookedveryfit. In her peak fitness days, sure, she could have given them a run for their money. But now? Sadly, her lungs would be on fire long before her pursuers were even winded.
The guard’s expression softened slightly and Maureen felt a wave of relief wash over her. She’d dodged a bullet, apparently.
“You would be wise to watch your mouth,” the woman warned. “The vice quaestor will not be as forgiving.”
Maureen made a point to do just that the rest of their journey. Namely, walk with her mouth shut and her eyes open, taking in every detail she could as the cobwebs cleared fully from her head. By the time they reached their destination, she was back to her normal self and able to fully appreciate the magnificence of the residence.
It was opulent. More than just a display of power and wealth, though, it also showed taste. The low-rise structure housed several massive units, each occupying an entire floor. The ceilings were high, the materials top-notch, and the design impeccable.
Whoever lived in this building was clearly a power player, and one to be reckoned with. And as the guards walked her into the front doors, it looked like she was going to be working for one of them. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as she’d feared after all.
“The new servant,” the male guard informed the pair of heavily armed sentries standing in the entry area.
