Page 27 of Given to the Fae
And for some inexplicable reason, I find myself approaching her and taking the comb from her hair gingerly. She gives me one of those quick glances of hers before she lowers her eyes, her shoulders tensing as if she believes I’m going to harm her in some way. I look down at the scars I can see and let out a breath.
‘Sit in the chair by the hearth,’ I say.
She complies immediately, of course, and I find I don’t like that she just does what I tell her without question. If I told her to throw herself down a flight of stairs, would she?
I hope I don’t regret this, but if we’re going to be spending the next few days together while I care for her, I don’t want it to be like this.
‘When we’re alone, you can tell me no. You don’t have to do as I say,’ I murmur.
This time her eyes are sharp when she looks up at me. Sharp and very puzzled.
‘Is this a trick?’
‘No.’
‘I’ve never met a master like you before,’ she says.
I snort and don’t reply. If only she knew how true that statement was.
‘I’m going to get the tangles out of your hair and then plait it for you. Is that all right?’
She hesitates for a long moment, as if weighing her options. I doubt she’s ever had any.
‘Yes,’ she says, a worried look on her face as she turns her back to me.
I dry her hair carefully, and she shivers a little though I don’t think it’s because she’s cold.
Taking hold of her gently, I begin to comb it slowly and methodically, working my way up from the ends. The knots are many and some quite large, so it takes me a while, and by the time I’m finished, it’s mostly dry and I realize her head is lolling to the side.
A quick glance around to see her face confirms my suspicions. She’s sound asleep. I plait her hair loosely and secure it with the piece of leather twine, all the while remembering when I’d last done this with my old gran. She’d fallen asleep more than once as well, though she was as old as the hills even then.
I see the girl has still not drunk the tea I made for her, and I leave her where she is for a moment, topping the mug up with some hot water from the iron kettle.
I jostle her awake, forcing myself not to do it gently. I’ve already let lines blur and I can’t let them anymore.
‘Drink,’ I say roughly, and she tenses, hearing the change in my tone, though she doesn’t look surprised.
How many times has one of these creatures, who’s decided she’s so far below them, pretended kindness only to– NO! I haveto stop empathizing with her plight. In a few days she’ll be sold and there’s nothing I can do about it. Nothing. I know better than to get attached to anyone or anything out here.
She drinks the tea quickly, gulping it down and making a face when it’s done. ‘How often must I drink that?’
‘Three times a day as well as just before and just after traveling the Breach.’
She makes another face.
‘Unless you want to be Breach Blet.’
‘The healer didn’t think IamBreach Blet,’ she points out. ‘She was just trying to earn her fee.’
‘Be that as it may, I’m under orders from Bere and I intend to see them through.’
She seems to understand that I won’t budge on this and gives a small nod. ‘Fine,’ she mutters, and I almost smile at her petulance before I remember myself and scowl.
‘Get in the bed.’
She looks at it warily and then at me.
I roll my eyes. ‘I told you, female, I don’t fuck slaves.’
