“Hola?1,”I all but croak.
She looks at me, all that friendliness she puts on in front of the giants wiped away. She places a large bucket near the door full of my bath water, and then places the food on a table while she lights a fire.
Once the flames are warming the chilledroom, she takes the waste bucket, goes back outside, and then returns with a mostly clean recipient.
“No debes hacer eso,”?2 I say. “If you would let me out, I’d clean it myself.”
She snorts. “Nice try, but your shit isn’t the nastiest thing I’ve had to clean.”
Then she washes her hands in the water bucket and comes over to unlock my cage door. She places the individual dishes in front of me.Bola de hoja?3, eggs, bread, and tea. Eager to speak to her, I sit up and cross my legs.
“Gracias,” ?4I say, picking up a piece of mostly fresh bread.
I tear it in two and hold out the other half. It is an old offering of peace between slaves—gods know that I’ve coaxed more than words out of fellow slaves by giving up my food. When Mikal and I had gone on the trek to Enduvida, I convinced seven of the others to keep quiet while I sabotaged a cart.
She eyes the bread as if it were a dead rat. The beginnings of a sneer tug at her top lip as she glares at me.
But she doesn’t leave.
“I’m Foreman Eneko’s comfort woman. You think they don’t feed me? He’s not the kind who likes to rut a skeleton,” she spits out.
The words are intended to scare me off, but I’ve been prickly enough times in my life to not run away when someone shows me their thorns.
I raise my eyebrows. “Why would the foreman let his comfort woman babysit me all day?”
“Probably because the king asked him to.” She folds her arms, watching me carefully. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five,” I say. “And you?”
She purses her lips. “Older than twenty-five and youngerthan thirty-two.”
I huff a laugh. “Does Eneko have a relationship with Rholker?”
“Eneko had to seek permission for me to become his comfort woman from Rholker,” she says bluntly.
This conversation is coming to an end, but I like talking to her.
“Do you know who my mother was?” I ask casually.
She narrows her eyes.
“All the slaves know who you are.” She takes the bread from my hands, tears it in two, and puts one half away. The action makes my chest hurt. We humans are always saving a bit for later. Just in case.
“You are the lucky, beautiful bitch who was spared rounds with giant lords and breeding pens because of hermamá’s legendary work,” she says.
I nod slowly, but then, I gesture at the cage around me.
“I wouldn’t say I was spared all the rounds with the giants. Keksej’s favorite hobby was tearing my back apart and… You see what Rholker does.”
She snorts, looking down at the bread as if considering whether to take another bite.
“A cage where everyone brings you food and you can sleep alone. Untouched.”
My mother’s face flashes before my eyes. I see her looking down at me in her short, silk green dress. She kisses my cheeks and whispers a prayer before she waves goodbye and joins the giant escorts. The only reason I’m untouched is because she went willingly into the king’s bed.
I can’t forget that.
“You’re right. I don’t want it to be said that what I experienced is worse than what you’ve been through. I respect you for the choice you made, and it kills me that it’s necessary tosurvive. I merely want to show you that I hate the giants just as much as you,” I say.
