The house was large, and confusing. Kajira took several hours exploring, from the servants' quarters at the top of the house to the kitchens below and everything in between. Everywhere she went, the servants bowed low to her and it was confusing. She was used to being the one prostrate on the floor, not the other way around. Finally she made her way to a courtyard in which a pool shimmered and trees grew, housing a multitude of small, brightly colored birds. They darted and flew overhead, their soft twitterings soothing to Kajira's turbulent emotions.
Was she really here?
How did she come to be in such a house, with such a Master? She hugged herself for joy and sat down by the pool. Little bronze fish scattered away in the pool beneath her, the light reflecting on the bottom of the pool in glimmering rings. "How wonderful!" she gasped as a larger fish came sailing grandly by, his mouth opening and closing in a silent conversation. She imitated him for a moment, then giggled.
"His name is Akeem." A voice startled her and she drew back. "Don't be afraid. I'm Malek, Amir's younger brother." He stepped out from behind a towering fern and smiled down at Kajira. "The fish. His name is Akeem. It means 'wise'. As children Amir and I would come to the pool and ask Akeem questions, hoping one day the Wise One would answer."
"Did he?" Kajira asked softly.
"No. Useless bastard." He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the pool then shoved his hands into his pockets. "I hear you're my brother's new slave."
Kajira bowed her head.
"An excellent slave, it would seem." Malek grinned. "Would you like me to show you where Amir and I used to build forts as children?"
"O yes!" Kajira said, bouncing up on her toes. "I would like that very much, please!"
Malek held out his arm and Kajira hesitated. "I...I'm not sure..." she began, but Malek shushed her.
"Amir won't mind if you take my arm. It's perfectly proper."
Kajira took his arm and they strolled through the house out the back door and into a lush and verdant garden. Jasmine bloomed, its heady fragrance filling Kajira's nose. Everywhere was a riot of color, with flowers of every shape and size. Several gardeners tended to the plants, one staking up a drooping vine and another trimming back a bushy shrub. Kajira breathed deeply, the intoxicating scents almost dizzying her head.
"Do you live here?" Kajira asked shyly.
"I do." Malek answered. "Until I marry."
"I see." Kajira touched a peony wonderingly. "And when will that be?"
"When my older brother chooses my wife." Malek said, a hint of bitterness in his tone.
Kajira looked up at him quickly. "Master will choose your wife?"
"Yes, since our parents are both dead he is the head of the household and will choose my bride when he sees fit."
Kajira pondered this. It seemed odd that a Highborn wasn't able to direct his own destiny in this way, but she held her tongue.
"Here." Malek pulled back some overhanging branches and motioned for Kajira to duck beneath. On the other side were several rudimentary stone edifices, held together by mud and straw. "Our forts."
Kajira giggled softly. "I cannot imagine Master playing, somehow." She said, putting her hand over her mouth in surprise.
"He used to." Malek said shortly. "But come, you will be late for the meal if we delay any longer." He took her arm and they ducked back into the garden and into the house.
***
Dima was waiting for Kajira in her room, a lightly steaming bowl of fragrant water ready, clothes laid out on the bed. Kajira entered the room and bowed to Dima who bowed back. The older woman motioned for Kajira to come to the wash table, where she efficiently stripped the girl of her garments and began to wash her. Kajira was embarrassed. She was a slave, not one to be washed by a servant! She tried to take the cloth from Dima but the woman held it firmly and shook her finger at Kajira admonishingly. Kajira subsided, lost in thought.
I am a slave to my Master, she thought, no longer a slave of the Palace. It was a strange thought. Dima dried the girl with a soft linen cloth and led her to the bed where the garments were laid out. Kajira looked at them, confused. She turned towards Dima. "I am to wear...this?" she pointed at the scraps of fabric on the bed and Dima nodded firmly.
Kajira flushed. The outfit would barely cover her private bits, and the semi-transparency of the rest of the fabric would leave little to the imagination. Dima lifted a curious object, flat panels of fabric with lacing up the back, and shimmied it down over Kajira's body, arranging and tightening it until Kajira could barely breathe. Her breasts were pushed up so far that they jiggled with every motion, drawing the eye. Dima smiled and nodded. Kajira blushed to imagine what she must look like.
Next came the diaphanous skirt, the smoky fabric swirling around Kajira's legs like vapor. She moved her hips and the shimmering fabric moved with her sensuously. Kajira ran her hands down her sides to her hips, feeling the silky smoothness of the garment.
"It's beautiful." She said softly and Dima nodded. Finally the shoes. Delicate sandals with slender heels and straps that Dima fastened up Kajira's legs. She stood back and admired her handiwork, smiling.
"Thank you, Dima." Kajira bowed to the older woman. Dima bowed back, clearly pleased. The sound of a gong reverberated through the house and Kajira jumped. "O! Time for supper!" she hurried out the door and down the hall towards Amir's study, where she knelt at the door and knocked softly.
Footsteps, then the door opened. "You may rise, Kajira." Amir said. Kajira kissed his foot before rising. He held her out at arm's length and studied her. "You look exquisite, my little dove." He tucked her arm into his and began down the hall.
"Master..." Kajira began uncertainly.
"You may speak freely, I have told you that, Kajira."
"Should I not walk behind you?" she asked softly.
"Sometimes you will, when we are on high protocol. But tonight you will be on my arm as I command." He led the way into the dining room and pulled out a chair for Kajira. She sat down wonderingly. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear "Normally you would be at my feet."
Kajira looked down at his feet, eyes wide, and he laughed. "Oh, little dove how you delight me!"
Malek came in and seated himself, as did an elderly aunt who was introduced to Kajira as Auntie Sayyida. The food was brought in, delicious and plentiful, and Kajira's belly growled.
Malek laughed. "Kajira, are you not accustomed to such rich food?" He joked,
Kajira began to tremble with uncertainty. She was not a Highborn, and yet here she was at the table of a nobleman and his family. Her head reeled. How did this come to be, she wondered. Amir put his hand over hers comfortingly and she calmed a bit.
