Page 72 of Upon Buried Embers
He looks at the braids I’d done in his hair, inspecting it before he nods, his hand coming toward me.
I flinch back against the table, hitting it hard, not expecting it, and he freezes, hand midair.
“S–sorry.” I gulp, trying to control my breathing.
I’m always making mistakes.
He says nothing, staring at me. He slowly brings his hand to my hair and starts to play with the end of the braid.
“Why do you flinch at everything?” His words are quiet, but the hint of command is within it.
I say nothing.
“This isn’t the first time you have done this. It’s more than being frightened, it’s more than not knowing what I will do. It’s a natural response you have, and you will tell me why.”
“I’m just scared.” He tugs on my braid, forcing my eyes to his.
“What are you scared of?”
“Everything.”
That’s a lie.
I’m not scared of dying, I’m scared of the pain of it.
“Who hurt you? Who put their hands on you in such a way that made you scared? Who caused you to have these reactions at the simple lift of a hand?”
I frown. I’m a slave, even worse, an elf, is it not obvious?
I’m not a person to others, I don’t have thoughts or feelings, I don’t have likes and dislikes.
I don’t have wishes or dreams.
I don’t havewants.
I have nothing. Doesn’t he see that?
“You will tell me one day the full extent of your life,” he murmurs.
“I’m a slave, I don’t have a life, it’s always in the hands of another. Those hands right now are yours.”
He hums. “Your life is mine?”
“You took me.”
“One day, you will say I freed you.”
“This does not feel like freedom,” I snap back, and then pause.
Oh no.
Rohan tugs my braid again, pulling until my face is close to his, and he lets out a small, deep, chuckle.
“Looks like there’s some fire left in your heart after all. I cannot wait to breathe life into it. For what a wonderful sight it will be.”
Nineteen
Elf
