Page 9 of Thief of Roses
She groaned at the silent arrival of the tray, downed her goblet of juice, and marched out into the great hall.She loathed the idea of being in the Fir’Darl’s company once more, but she required her host to follow through with their arrangement, however unpleasant it would be.That was his problem.He would deal with her, even if it accompanied vomiting fits and swoons.Maybe he would decide she was more trouble than she was worth and bring this odious experience to an end.She counted on it.She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she could do this, and called out.
“Fir’Darl!”She walked down the great hall picking her way around the remaining debris on the floor.“Fir’Darl!”Her calls echoed through the rafters.
The fortress itself was far more massive than she was able to explore in those first few days while she took shelter.He could be anywhere.He could be somewhere on the grounds of the fortification.He could be out in the forest doing whatever Fir’Darl-ish things the Fir’Darl did.But he had not strayed far from her before their arrangement if he observed her taking a rose.He would not be so negligent now.
“Fir’Darl,”she called out again,“I would speak with you.”
“What wouldst thou have of me?”came the disembodied response.
She jumped, grabbed a chamberstick off the wall chest, and lobbed it in the direction she heard him.The chamberstick smashed against the wall and clattered to the ground.She stayed where she was, certain he must be in the corridor that led to the kitchens, not trusting her stomach if she should see him again.
“Fir’Darl,”she said, trying to return to calm,“you spoke of a room with a bed that was to be my sanctuary.I should like to claim my space without delay so that I may be assured of where I am safe.”
Silence returned.She almost called out again.
“Thou mayest fynd the stair to the floors above towards the great hall rear, behynd the tapestrie of the unicorne.From there, thou wilt fynd thy wey to thy room by lyt candle.”
“You are not acting as guide today?”she asked.“I would think that, if you mandate I endure your company, you may at least show me the courtesy of doing the honors yourself.”
He made a noise that sounded like garbled words and then growled.She sighed while she waited for him to spit out whatever accursed thought he had to explain his discourtesy.That he was the Fir’Darl need be his only excuse.
“Y shall ynflict myself upon thee soon yet today Y doon thee greater courtesie by mine absence.”
She would not argue over the courtesy of his absence, but their cohabitation was his suggestion.He should have to follow through.
“My clothing is damaged.I will require more to remain here for so long a duration.”
“Thy wardrobe wilt provide that whyche thou desyrest.Addrefs thy wardrobe firmlie with request specific to thy needes else yt mayeth provyde that whyche yt deemeth more appropryate.”
A god living in a magical ruin of a castle would of course have magical furniture.Where the Magic had initially delighted her, it now made her uneasy knowing as she did that the Fir’Darl was the source.She shivered.Perhaps a Rivan god would imagine that magic would be a comfortable companion for her, but this Magic stemmed from an unclean god.
Was she supposed to thank him for the information?She didn’t.
“Thy dead horse,”he said.
“What of her?”
“Didst thou have affectionne for thy horse or ‘twas the beast only for servyce?”
She almost told him that it was no concern of his what her feelings toward the animal had been, but perhaps there was a reason he asked.Perhaps he planned on eating her.If that were the case, she preferred to remain in ignorance.If she had not found food herself, she may have been forced to do the same since survival always took priority over sentiment, but she had been spared making that decision.
“She meant much to me,”she relented.When he did not respond further, she pushed.“Will I be provided for in my room as I am currently provided for?”
There was a growl, but was there more than just mindless fury or anger in it?Because, if she had been obliged to assign emotion to it, she would swear that it was directed not at her but himself, like thoughtful mutterings of frustration.
“Thou shalt be provyded for as thou hast byen provyded here unless thy wyshes changeth.”
“Very well.”She hiked her torn and frayed skirts up with as much dignity as she could pretend and searched for her room.
