Page 89 of Shadowlands Omega

“Where’s Yaron?”I ask Lady Radmilla for the third time that day.

She gives me a face, lots of lines twisting down, as if she’s not happy with what she’s said to me already and what she’s going to say to me now. “He’s elected to sleep in his chambers off of the throne room. He wanted me to relay a message.”

She clears her throat, looking decidedly uncomfortable as she stands at the foot of the bed after having turned it down — a thing I didn’t even know servants did for Lords and Ladies and still don’t understand why. My hands aren’t broken. It’s not like I can’t fold a sheet. If I’m going to be living here in the long term, I’m going to need to talk to Yaron about making some changes to the scope of work of the…

…staff.

I realize I’m staring when Radmilla’s expression changes. Her mouth is open, prepared to tell me whatever it was she was going to tell me, but at the last moment, she cocks her head to the side. “Are you alright, my Lady?”

I shake my head and grip the back of the low-profile armchair before me. I’d been standing behind it, folding some of my new clothes and debating where to put them. Yaron has a closet the size of a shoe box on the other side of the room, behind and to the right of the bed. His armoire is massive, don’t get me wrong, but it’s entirely filled with cloaks, armor and weapons. The smallest shelf has a few pairs of thick boot socks, trousers and tunics scattered across it in a way that surprises me for a male who does everything else with precision.Except fuck me.I blush at the thought of how…crazed he was at the inn. It was nice. Fun.

Returning my thoughts to the closet, I find myself struggling not to smile. Hanging my pretty dresses in the mix of leather and steel didn’t seem quite right, though I will need a place to put them in the short to medium term. And now I realize I’ve done it again.

Just by folding my clothes and inspecting Yaron’s closet, I’ve already made a decision, haven’t I? But maybe, now that Yaron’s had me again, he’s changed his mind. He didn’t seem quite right after the Sea Witch. Perhaps, he really is much angrier with me than I thought he was for leaving his bed in the night. Or worse, maybe I really did overstep and what I wrote to some of the Berserkers of other cities was wrong.

“My Lady?”

“Kiandah,” I say, almost at a bark, instinctively.

“Of course,” Radmilla responds.

“Sorry, I’m just a little confused. I thought that Yaron would be coming back.”

Radmilla shakes her head again, her gaze flitting to the side. “He has requested you remain in your chambers. He will be remaining in the throne room until the threat of Trash City has passed.”

I almost choke. “What? That could be months.” That could be never.

“I um…my Lady — Kiandah. I…I think once we hold the Red Moon Festival and he has bonded you, he will feel differently.”

“Does he even still want that?” I balk. “After we left the inn and returned to the keep, he’s been nothing but distant. I know that he’s stressed about the crisis on the North Island, but I can help. He wouldn’t have even known so soon that Ruby City fell if I hadn’t told him.” Anger ticks at my temples and I struggle to keep it from infecting my tone.

“And he knows that. He doesn’t value you any less now that you’ve returned to the keep…”

“Then what is it, Radmilla? I’m tired of him treating me like a prisoner…”

“He doesn’t view you as a prisoner. You are precious to him…”

“Yes. A thing too precious to release from its cage.”

Radmilla swallows her next words. She swipes her fingers across her grey hair, tucking its thick mass behind her ear. Outside the door is a slight commotion. Though the sound is perfectly ignorable, she sighs, as if relieved for the interruption. She goes to the door to peek outside and then opens it fully.

“Come in.” She gestures for Zelie and a girl I don’t know to enter — wait…I do know her, I realize on closer inspection. She’s the young girl that arrived from Ruby City with her grandparents. I’m surprised at the sight of her and don’t immediately respond when Radmilla tells me to eat and that she’ll request a more satisfactory response from Lord Yaron.

I nod noncommittally, too distracted by the sight of my sister with this little girl. Radmilla shuts the door and I can see Cyprus standing outside, a curious expression on his face as the door clicks shut between us.

“Hey, Kia, are you alright?” Zelie sets her tray down on the low table in front of the armchair I’m standing behind. I round it and am only partially distracted by the thick, spongy rolls of n’jorra bread beneath piles of n’sheer and gora — decadent delicacies more often cooked by our relatives further east in Undoline and beyond. N’jorra bread is the staple base diet of Gold City.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “It’s just tense with this…news.” I give Zelie a quick hug before gesturing for the two women to sit with me and enjoy the food — most of our foods, though they’re served on one tray, are meant to be shared. “Please. I can’t eat it all by myself.”

The two females don’t hesitate more than a second — Zelie less than that. Together, we dive in with our hands, the young girl eyeing us both skeptically at first before diving in with zeal. My heart clenches at the sight of her tattered black hair hanging by her knees as she bends over them to reach the table.

I stand up and push her chair further in. She thanks me, wiping her brown hand across her mouth. She’s still a bit dirty, even though I can see that someone tried to clean her up the best they could. I take another few bites before going to the door and opening it. I tell Cyprus to find whoever he needs to find to bring fresh clothes for her. I plan to let her bathe in our quarters and she needs fresh clothes afterwards.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

I nod. “The girl needs some care.”

“She’s from Ruby City?”

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