Page 62 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure
They walked the short distance from the dining room to her quarters, a corridor she'd traveled for many years, but tonight everything felt different. The anticipation humming through her veins made everything sharper—the whisper of silk against stone, the play of lamplight on marble, the sound of their synchronized footsteps.
"The architecture of this place is remarkable," Elias said as they passed by the ornate archway that led to the interior courtyard.
"Lord Navuh spares no expense on our cage," she said quietly, then winced at her bitter tone. "I apologize. Sometimes the resentment slips through at the most inappropriate moments."
"No need to apologize. Acknowledging reality isn't bitterness—it's sanity."
"This is me." Tamira stopped before her door and opened it.
There were no locks in the harem. There was no need. No one entered private quarters uninvited, and that even included Lord Navuh. The monster had a few redeeming qualities, chief among them his love and devotion to Areana.
Tamira's sitting room was her sanctuary, decorated to reflect her evolving tastes. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes in dozens of languages. Comfortable chairs clustered around an electric fireplace that was for decoration rather than function. There was no need for heating on a tropical island.
Persian rugs covered the floors, and artifacts from various cultures created an eclectic but harmonious whole. Another redeeming quality of Navuh was never refusing his ladies their hearts' desires. All she had to do to purchase an item was submit a request to the accountant, and it got approved without question. Well, except for current literature, or phones that worked outside the harem, or any weapons of any kind. But she was smart enough not to try that.
"Your room suits you," Elias said. "It's beautiful and interesting, just like the lady who occupies it."
"This is my nest," she said. "Please, sit wherever you like."
He chose one of the chairs by the fireplace, and she took its companion, curling her legs beneath her. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the possibilities hanging in the air between them.
"Would you like tea?" she asked. "Or something stronger?"
"Tea would be perfect."
As she walked over to the small preparation area she'd created against one wall, Elias rose to his feet and went over to one of her bookcases.
"You have an impressive collection," he said, examining her bookshelves. "Philosophy, science, poetry, fiction...in how many languages?"
"All the ones I speak and a few I'm still learning." She filled the electric kettle with water from a carafe and selected a delicate oolong from her tea collection. It was floral with complex undertones. "Books are my salvation here. Windows into worlds I will never see."
"Which worlds call to you most strongly?"
The question was simple, but she heard layers beneath it. "The ones where choice exists. Where people can leave if they're unhappy, love whom they choose, pursue their own purposes." She poured hot water over the leaves, watching them unfurl. "I never lived in places like that, never experienced what it's like to be free. I was always an asset to be traded for goods or for status, and that was even in my country of origin, which was incredibly progressive compared to this." She waved her hand in the air. "But my parents traded me for status and favors, and I was too young and naive to realize that I was agreeing to eternal bondage."
Elias looked suddenly anxious, his eyes darting over the walls of her room.
She laughed. "Don't worry. There are no listening devices or cameras in here. Lord Navuh is paranoid, but he is not a pervert. He allows us privacy in our rooms."
Elias frowned. "Are you sure about that? Because I was under the impression that my room was not as private as this."
"It's not, and neither is Tony's. But you can talk freely here. I promise it's safe."
He still looked doubtful.
"Navuh is a cruel despot and a vile shithead," she said, not loud enough that it could be heard outside her door, but loud enough to convince Elias.
"Now I'm really scared." He looked at the door as if expecting it to burst open at any moment.
"Don't worry. I have cursed at him out loud thousands of times in here. He would not let it slide if he heard it."
She carried the tea service to the small table between their chairs, and he helped arrange the cups and saucers without being asked.
Small courtesies, but they mattered.
"It might be a trick," Elias said quietly. "He might ignore your cursing so you will think that this is a safe place to talk."
She sat in the chair. "Why would he do that?"
