"No," he admits. "I don't know what that's like. But I've tended many humans in my years as a healer. I've seen the fear, the despair. And I've seen some of them find...if not happiness, then at least peace with their circumstances."
"I'll never find peace here."
"Perhaps not." He moves to my lip now, dabbing at the split with something that makes it tingle. "But Madam Primsyn is not cruel. She won't beat you or starve you. She'll provide for your needs."
"Except my need for freedom."
"Yes. Except that." He finishes with my lip and steps back, regarding me with what might be sympathy. "She's a good mistress, Oliver. As owners go, you could have done much worse."
"I shouldn't have an owner at all."
Madris packs his supplies back into his satchel with practiced efficiency. "No. You're probably right. But this is the world we live in. The Lactari need human fluids to survive. It's not cruelty for cruelty's sake."
"So I'm supposed to just accept it? Be grateful I'm being used to keep you alive?"
"I'm not asking you to be grateful." He moves toward the door, then pauses. "But I am suggesting you pick your battles. Madam Primsyn has been alone for a long time. Her husband never… Well, that's not my place to say. But she's not the monster you think she is."
He leaves before I can respond, the door locking behind him with a final, damning click.
I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.Her husband never...Never what? Never touched her? Never loved her? What does that have to do with me?
Nothing. It has nothing to do with me. She's still my captor.
But I can't stop thinking about the way she looked when she said I was more than entertainment. The way her voice caught, just for a second, before she shut down again.
You're valuable livestock.
Yeah. That's all I am to her.
So why did it sound like she was lying?
Morning comes too soon.I must have dozed off at some point because I wake to sunlight streaming through the window and the sound of the door unlocking.
A Lactari servant enters, female, her skin mottled purple. She carries a tray of food and keeps her eyes downcast, submissive in a way that sets my teeth on edge.
"Breakfast," she says softly, setting the tray on a small table near the window. "Madam Primsyn requests your presence in her study in one hour."
She's gone before I can ask any questions.
I look at the food. My stomach growls at the sight. Bread, fruit, some kind of cheese, water. More than I've eaten in the last week combined.
Don't eat it. It's just another chain.
But I'm starving, and refusing food won't hurt anyone but me. So I eat, hating myself a little more with every bite.
An hour later, right on schedule, the door unlocks again. This time it's Corvask, the steward from last night. His expression is neutral, unreadable.
"This way," he says.
I follow him through a maze of corridors. The estate looks different in the daylight, less oppressive but no less luxurious. Everything is expensive and tasteful, designed to showcase wealth. We pass servants, both Lactari and human, all of whom avert their eyes as we walk by.
The humans especially. They won't even look at me.
Is that what I'll become? So broken I can't even meet another human's gaze?
Corvask stops at a heavy wooden door and knocks twice.
"Enter," Primsyn's voice calls from inside.
