Beryl's classmates may have been eager to tease him when he was alone, but it was clearly a completely different story when he was with Analisse. As he followed her out of the Academy, several students definitely noticed that the two of them were together. In spite of that, he didn't hear a single mocking or gossipy utterance out of any of them. Many of them actually looked at him with a sort of respect or curiosity, in stark contrast to his near-invisibility prior to now.
They headed north across the cityscape, Beryl following close on his Mistress' heels. She didn't say much to him and he felt that the silence was a tad oppressive. The walk was only about fifteen minutes across Zeal's various walkways, the two of them mostly took spiralling upward paths rather than actually covering much lateral distance. The complex she led them to was very high up, so much so that Beryl nervously kept his eyes locked straight ahead so that he didn't have to look at how long of a drop it was to the ground. He remembered the two teenagers who'd deliberately fallen off of a high point when he'd first entered the city, but he didn't think he'd ever be comfortable with these heights even knowing it was safe. The outside of the massive complex that Analisse was heading towards wasn't guarded and there wasn't even a closed door. He quickly saw though that the "door" to the street was actually just an entry into a spartan antechamber. There were several soldiers milling about in the antechamber, two were watching the door and another three were playing tiles at a table off to the side. Off to the other side was a reception area that was unoccupied but housed a desk and several shelves lined with logbooks.
"Miss Trecorya," One of the two soldiers at the door stepped forward and bowed before her. "Welcome home." He glanced over at Beryl and looked like he kind of wanted to say something about his presence here. Thinking about asking who the weird awkward girl was, probably.
"Mmhmm," Analisse stopped and brushed a bit of her hair out of her face, giving the soldier an impatient look laced with unspoken threat. He winced a little and stepped to the side without saying anything about Beryl, and his companion opened the door for the two of them.
To Beryl, everything in Zeal, including the little dormitory he'd been living in had been ludicrously extravagant. The Trecorya estate was so opulent that he didn't even fully understand what anything was or did. The entryway was bigger than any barn he'd ever been in. It seemed like Every other ornament or decoration was made out of gold or diamond or something sparkly. It made Beryl nervous, he felt like he could break things worth more than he was just by looking at them wrong. Doors and hallways went off in several directions, leading further into the compound.
"Mother," Analisse spoke in her normal voice, but there was a reverberating Sorcerous echo that spread throughout the room and beyond. Analisse walked to the base of the grand stairway in the middle of the room and waited, Beryl fidgeting nervously behind her.
"Yes, darling?" An older woman emerged from a side room. She was probably not much older than fifty but she sat in one of the Sorcery-powered wheelchairs that Beryl had seen people around the city using. She had her hair tied back in a neat bun to contrast Analisse's flowing waves. Her face wasn't anywhere near as stern or demanding as her daughter's, but Beryl could see she was no kindly grandmother about to offer Beryl a plate of cookies, either.
"I brought Beryl," she said, putting her hand on Beryl's back and nudging him forward a bit. "The poor girl with no guardian that I wished to sponsor." Beryl picked up immediately that Analisse's mother probably didn't know about the Crest, and that it wouldn't be wise for Beryl to mention it in front of her.
"She'll be staying here, then?" her mother asked, giving Beryl a look that was critical but not harsh or hostile. She clearly didn't seem angry that Beryl was here but felt the need to assess her anyway.
"Yes," Analisse looked over at Beryl. "Precious, this is my mother, The Lady Yavimay, Empress Schala's sister. Mind your manners and curtsy."
Beryl felt a surge of alarm and immediately dipped down into his best curtsy, rushing so much to do so that he stumbled and had to take several quick steps off to the side to not fall flat on his face. He corrected his balance and tried to retake the pose as he'd seen it done before. "Ma'am," he murmured, keeping his eyes down.
Yavimay snorted at the clumsy display. "Where's she from? The Colonies?" Beryl felt the blood in his veins turn to ice at the unintentional accuracy of the deriding comment.
"Mother, there's no call to be vulgar." Analisse interjected with a hint of petulance in her tone that could only come from being someone's child. "I haven't yet collared or trained her, that's not her fault." Beryl blinked and looked over at Analisse. Collared? Trained? He had to admit that this whole 'Mistress' thing seemed to resonate with something deep within him but he wasn't aware that it was a literal Master/slave relationship. He fidgeted a bit anxiously at that thought, but decided that he'd ask her about it later. It wasn't like he had much recourse anyway.
"Fine. Embarrass yourself all you wish," Yavimay spoke with a soft derision that Beryl knew was meant to cut deeper than it might seem. The wheels on her chair spun in opposing directions and reoriented the chair so that she could roll away and leave Beryl and Analisse alone.
"We will have to work on your etiquette," Analisse looked at him critically. "Mother was needling me with that comment about The Colonies but it is best to avoid such speculation altogether. These things can progress from cutting comment, to rumour, to investigation, to trial far more quickly than you might think."
"Sorry Ma'am," Beryl blushed a little. He knew the truth of her words all too well, that particular process had been midway through playing out back on Kaaz and his accidental reveal of the Crest had only sped it up.
"To begin, I am 'Mistress' to you at all times, not Ma'am and never Analisse or Ana." Analisse said, one hand finding its way to her hip. "Lady Trecorya will suffice if you need to speak of me in my absence."
"Oh... umm... all the time? Mistress?" he asked.
"I'll be less strict in private," she said, giving him the opposite answer to what he'd expected. "I understand that you are ignorant about these things but trust me precious, if we are explicit that our relationship is sexual, it will draw less attention. If it's not obvious that you are my plaything, people will wonder why I am keeping you around." She left it at that and started up the stairs, saying nothing but Beryl knew he was expected to follow her.
She took him to an empty bedroom and ushered him inside, locking the door behind her using Sorcery the same way she'd operated the locks at the office back at the Academy. "This will be yours, gemstone. It adjoins to mine," she pointed at a door at the far wall. "You will spend the majority of your time in there attending me, but you shall need a space of your own, nonetheless." She glanced up at a clock on the wall and let out a small impatient noise. "My presence is required elsewhere within the hour but I can work on you for a few moments. Disrobe for me." Without even looking to make sure that he was doing as he'd been told, Analisse walked over to a ridiculously oversized closet and opened the shutters to look inside.
Beryl still felt a little anxious getting undressed in her presence, but reaching up to undo his buttons was certainly far less of an ordeal than last time. He removed his blouse and walked over to fold and place it neatly atop one of the dressers in the room. He followed suit with his tight pants and then, with only a little pause, his soiled panties. When he turned around, Analisse already had some replacement clothes picked out for him slung across her arm, and she handed them to him immediately.
"Umm... Mistress?" Beryl asked quietly as he looked through the clothes her Mistress had just given him.
"You're to put them on, precious." she said dismissively, already on her way over to her own room.
"No, I mean... do they have to be... girl's clothes?" Beryl mumbled.
Analisse looked over at him and cocked a confused eyebrow at him. "What else would they be?"
