Twenty-Six: Bruises and Balm
I sat at the table while Senna heated water in a jug on the fire, then poured it into a bowl.
“Lavender,” she murmured, rubbing the herb between her fingers and sprinkling it into the water. “Yarrow.” Petals fell into the bowl. “Thyme.” A few more. She gave it a stir, a look of intense concentration on her face.
The change was captivating. Her focus transformed her, casting aside the timid girl I’d seen earlier and revealing her inner beauty. She didn’t look scared anymore.
“What else…” she muttered under her breath.
Lira nudged the St John’s Wort across the table, without saying a word. Heh, points to me for instantly recognizing it.
Senna gave her a grateful nod and added it to the mix.
I tried to hold still and not flinch as she cleaned the blood from the cut on my brow, but from the way Lira was watching me, I didn’t quite manage it. Senna chewed her lower lip with small white teeth every time I winced, and it was so cute it was tempting to ham it up a bit. She soaked a clean rag in the mixture and pressed it to my cheek, and that did hurt. I caught her eye, and she looked down, though a hint of a smile curled the corner of her lips. It didn’t quite check off ‘make Senna smile’ from my to-do list, but it was a start.
She pressed the cloth against the bruise on my ribs, and again I almost jumped. But her touch was gentle, the herbal remedy soothing. If Lira was right, this was helping Senna, too. And Lira was always right.
“Senna’s done a great job,” Lira said as she noticed me wince. “You’ll be fine by the morning.”
I suspected that was code for, ‘I’ll heal you when she’s asleep,’ but I still gave Lira a look, one reminiscent of our spanking conversation. She batted her eyelids at me.
NPC my ass. She knew exactly what she was doing, the little minx.
And that meant Senna wasn’t some scripted damsel either. She was real—and now, my responsibility. Curious, I pulled her card to see if the evening’s frivolities had changed her outlook on Jarek. Preferably in a less-scared way.
Senna |
Class |
None |
Race |
Human |
|
Level |
3 |
Age |
22 |
Armor Class |
13 |
Primary |
Secondary |
Skills |
|||
Strength |
9 |
Attack |
0 |
Attraction* |
5 |
Agility |
16 |
Defense |
11 |
Cooking |
16 |
Intelligence |
14 |
Endurance |
8 |
Cleaning |
14 |
Wisdom |
12 |
Luck |
2 |
Dodge |
14 |
Fortitude |
11 |
Perception |
19 |
Herbology |
12 |
Charisma |
16 |
Resilience |
18 |
Healing |
10 |
Health |
18 |
Speed |
14 |
|
|
|
Willpower |
2 |
|
|
|
Notes: |
|||||
*Attraction applies only to Kaelan |
Healing and Herbology skills had appeared now that I knew she had them. While I was relieved Jarek’s negative-Attraction score had vanished, it did raise concerns. It suggested denial of her trauma, and that wouldn’t help her heal long-term. But for tonight, if that was her way of coping, I couldn’t blame her one bit. Lira and I would just have to support her through this.
And she’d lost her Class. Wasn’t she a peasant before? She’d gained a level, too. Was this because she’d become my companion, boosted by my God power? If she leveled the same way Lira did, she wouldn’t have explicitly chosen where to put her points, they’d have just slotted into whatever skills were her focus. Like Attraction … dammit.
Maybe that was understandable after I’d fought and bled for her, but it was problematic. I had another budding relationship with an awkward power dynamic: Senna perceived that I held her future in my hands, and I supposed I did. But it was more precarious than my relationship with Lira. At least Lira understood the concept of free will; Senna’s life hadn’t allowed room for much of that.
By the time we finished dinner, the exhaustion was palpable. Especially from Senna, whose eyes had grown droopy.
“Time for bed,” I announced.
“Not until you’ve washed the sweat off,” Lira murmured.
I glanced down at myself. The mild evenings meant I’d been fine in just my trousers, but Lira was right. I did look like I’d gotten into a fight and rolled in the dirt. Funny, that.
“I’ll get some hot water,” Senna said, standing up so quickly she banged the table. She flushed, turning away with awkward haste, her earlier confidence vanishing.
“Something I said?” I mouthed at Lira.
She gave a small shrug.
I finished my mead while we waited for the water to heat, then Senna took two thickly padded cloths and bent to pick the jug up from the fire.
“Let me help with that,” I said, rising and coming around the table.
Senna dropped the cloths and stepped back so fast that for a moment I thought she’d burned herself. But she just stood there, eyes lowered, hands held in front of her shift. I resisted the urge to sigh. It wasn’t her fault she’d been bruised and battered by life. I needed to be patient, to let her see that things had changed.
I gave her a smile as I picked the jug up, but I don’t think she noticed. We trooped upstairs, Lira following close behind.
A bath was way too much trouble – it would take far more jugs than this to fill it – but there was a basin, and that would suffice. Senna had already laid out clean cloths and soap, and I stripped off and washed myself down. The dirty water went in a waste bucket to be emptied in the morning, and that was that.
“Lira?” I called, and she walked in a moment later. “Could you please get me a …”
She was already holding a towel in her hands.
“You’re an angel,” I said, kissing her, then dried myself and wrapped it around my waist. “Do you want to wash? There’s plenty of water left.”
“Yes, I would. I’ll see you in bed.” Another kiss, and I padded along the passageway to the main bedroom.
A small oil lamp just inside the door burned with a soft glow, and the sheet had been folded down. A chest of drawers stood in one corner, our clothes not yet put away but stacked neatly on top.
There was no sign of Senna, but the door to the smaller room was closed. I hoped she slept well; she needed it.
Lira walked in a moment later, having foregone a towel. I lifted up the corner of the sheet, and she slid in next to me, her bare skin warm and soft against mine. “How’s the bed?” she asked.
“More comfortable than our last one.”
“I’ll bless it in the morning if you can try not to die until then.”
I gave her ass a slap beneath the sheet. “Cheeky.”
She wiggled beneath my hand.
“What do you think of our new girl?” I asked softly, mindful of the open door. The sound of gentle splashing came from the bathroom. “Oh, I thought she’d gone to bed.”
“No. She waited until we’d bathed before she went in herself.”
Of course she did.
“I think she’ll be alright … in the end,” Lira continued. “She’s got a certain … resilience.”
That was surprisingly perceptive for someone who couldn’t see Senna’s info sheet. I gave Lira a kiss for being infinitely wise and amazing.
We heard soft, bare steps coming down the hallway, and I froze. Was Senna just coming to say good night? I’d assumed she was going to sleep in the other room.
She walked in, face expressionless, her long, dark brown hair released from its plait to fall loose down her back. She only had a towel wrapped around her, and it wasn’t even that long, barely covering the essentials. Her gaze flicked to Lira, then she walked around to my side of the bed and dropped the towel.
“Senna…” My hand came down on the sheet. I was naked beneath it, Lira pressed against my side. Senna’s day had been traumatic enough.
She stared forward, eyes averted, expression wooden in the lamp’s soft light.
“You don’t need to do this,” I said gently. “Why don’t you sleep in the other room? It’s fine.”
Senna lowered her gaze, her face briefly reflecting a mix of strong emotions I couldn’t discern—relief? Disappointment? Panic? All of them? Then they disappeared as she slipped her mask back on. “As my Lord wishes,” she said numbly.
She bent to pick up her towel, wrapping it back around her nakedness, and walked, shoulders slumped, from the room. We heard the door to the second bedroom open and close.
A sharp jab poked me in the ribs, directly over my bruise.
“Ow! Dammit, woman!”
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Send her away!”
I stared at Lira, bewildered. “Are you kidding me right now?” I hissed at her in a whisper. “She’s had a hell of a day. She’s lost her house, been basically sold into slavery – to me no less. And all day long she’s been expecting to get taken tonight, whether Jarek did it or I did! Doesn’t she deserve some space?”
Lira sighed, shaking her head. “I knew you weren’t trying to be cruel, but sometimes you really are dense! If you send her away, you’re rejecting her. Can’t you see? She’ll be in there thinking she’s not good enough, worrying you’ll toss her out in the morning when she has nowhere to go!”
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration simmering within me. “You mean I have to fuck her? When she’s already so emotionally traumatized?” I shook my head. “That’s going too far.”
“No, but you have to show her we want her. You have to show her she’s safe here, that she’s accepted.” Lira gave a small shrug, softening. “I mean, it wouldn’t hurt if you took her. I know you’d be gentle, and she needs that right now.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Tell me you’re not serious!”
“Perfectly serious, Kaelan. That girl has been through enough. The last thing she needs is to be lying in there, thinking that tomorrow her life is over.” Lira shook her head. “I don’t know what she’d do, and I don’t want to think about it.”
This was insane, but Lira’s implications about Senna's state of mind bothered me. To my view, the whole thing was twisted and barbaric. But if Lira saw it this way, if Senna did too, then who was I to impose a different belief system? Culture was nothing but collective perception, after all. This wasn’t the time to try to change anything—not tonight, not after everything we’d been through.
“Fine.” I pulled back the sheet and swung my legs out of bed. “But I’m not fucking her. I don’t agree with that.” I found my shorts in the pile of clothes, pulling them on. “And I’m not going in there naked. She’ll think I’m going to rape her.”
Lira’s brow furrowed. “How can it be rape? She belongs to you.”
I stared at her, stunned. “We’re definitely talking about this later. But while I’m in there with Senna, think about this: if someone says ‘no’, what could ever justify hearing ‘yes’?”
Leaving Lira looking thoughtful, I padded out into the hallway, stopping before Senna’s door.
Taking a steadying breath, I prepared myself for a difficult conversation. I’d just walked out of a debate about consent, and now I was about to convince a girl who thought she was owned to come and share a bed with me. All because it was the ‘right thing’ to do, according to the others in the house.
That was one hell of a mind-fuck.