I can choose the ways I reclaim myself from their conditioning that work best forme, rather than centering them.
When I emerge wearing new clothes, though, Zan turns to greet me and then chokes.
And my fears about whether he actually wants to see me vanish.
I smile and do a little twirl. I’ve put on spare clothes Nomi packed for me, a simple knitted dress in purple, with Zan’s blue sash still belted around my waist.
I look soft.
I look feminine, in a way I was never allowed to explore lest it affect public perception of me, but what do I need to care for that now? I can kill a man just as easily in a dress.
Maybe I’ll decide I don’t like it, that the familiarity or protection of pants are best. But the dress is comfortable and flexible and I look like an ordinary person who does not spend my days murdering, which is what I wanted to try today.
Though maybe, given Zan’s quickly contained gobsmacked reaction, “ordinary” is not quite what I managed.
But I find that I am also quite comfortable withhimnot finding me ordinary.
“Purple suits you,” he finally manages. “You should ask Teren to make you some accessories.”
Accessories! Another whole new world.
...And an overwhelming one, but maybe not if I let Teren choose.
Or Zan, who is way more comfortable with domesticity than I would have expected.
And I wonder if anyone else knows that about him—ifheeven knows.
“Did Teren make this?” I ask.
“Probably,” Zan says, turning back to whatever he’s doing at the kitchen sink. “He’s always doing something with his hands.”
Ahh. That must be how Teren’s managed his power for so long without katas. I’ll have to think on that, and how I might adapt it for him.
“Maybe that’s my problem,” I muse.
Zan looks a question at me.
“The bath was boring,” I admit.
His lips twitch. “I wondered why you were so quick. Want to learn how to cook eggs and toast? I haven’t started yet—I had to clean all the cookware first, since no one has lived here in a while.”
My eyes brighten. “Yes! Tragic that I missed the demonstration of your rapid dishwashing skills, though.”
“You wouldn’t have properly appreciated them yet anyway.” Zan sniffs. “But you will.”
I snicker and join him in the kitchen.
The amount of things I don’t know about a kitchen could fill a tome, but Zan starts me off as simply as he can.
Here’s the bread. Here is the knife to use to slice it. Here’s how you store it so it doesn’t dry out.
Here’s how to turn on the stove, how to adjust the heat, how to not get burned.
Here is the butter, which makes everything more delicious so we should add extra. No, more than that.
Okay, that last one was from me, but it steals another rare smile from Zan so I have no regrets.
My head is still swimming with all the new knowledge, and I’m sure it would have been faster for Zan to just cook by himself, but he at least appears content to take time with me.
