Many thanks to those of you who gave me words of encouragement during the first chapter. Here is another step for our slow burn story. I hope you enjoy!
***
With no windows in his room, Ezzo's awakening was quite different from what he was used to. Both as a free man and as a slave, he'd relied on the sunrise to open his eyes and know when he was to start his day.
This tiny room allowed no natural light in. The Scombian would have slept a whole lot longer than usual, unsuspecting his sleep was cutting into his actual schedule due to the general darkness. Unfortunately, what ended up doing the sun's job was the harsh voice of a servant that opened his bedroom door without asking for permission.
"You got rocks in your ears, Scombian?! Get your ass up and go have your breakfast. Do not make me return here."
You really don't get to forget you don't have a key to your room, huh?
Ezzo groaned internally. He struggled out of his bed and slipped into his beige uniform. The water on the basin had thankfully remained cool enough to feel pleasant on his face as he rinsed it.
The refectory was crowded with slaves that seemed as diverse in ethnicity as they were in their apparent functions. People of various colors, appearances, and shapes shared that space to break their fast. The guards ate in the same room as the servants, but Ezzo noticed most people dressed in whitish clothes steered clear of those wearing armor.
And lest I forget, there's a caste of slaves with their own, proper rooms upstairs,
he reminded himself.
His breakfast was a hearty porridge with an aftertaste of honey. Unlike the Lockes, the servants had close to no interest in Ezzo's evident Scombian appearance. Even though he couldn't find a single kinsman of his in that refectory, no slave or guard approached him while he had his breakfast. Not even when Ezzo handed his tray in for the kitchen staff to clean did anybody so much as look at him twice.
This blissful lack of attention continued as he made his way out of the servant quarters. Every slave seemed to have their own sets of orders, individually heading wherever they were expected to be at. Ezzo had to wonder where that Tara woman was. She was the only person he had an inkling of certainty had duties similar to his.
In her own room upstairs, perhaps? Is she that good at her job? Or has she been granted a bed in the mansion by Lady Vera herself?
The manor was a particularly difficult place to navigate. Unsurprisingly, Ezzo had already managed to forget the mansion's entire layout. His fear of getting intercepted in a corridor by any Locke other than Clara made his search for her bedroom a terrifying endeavor. Every approaching footstep, every voice, every creaking door made Ezzo turn his head down in fear of being recognized as the new sex slave. He tread as lightly as he could, maintaining this dance of meek anonymity until he was certain he'd found the right room. Clara's door - or so he hoped - was locked, and Ezzo got no answer upon knocking.
A couple of patrolling guards paid him little to no mind as they walked past. Ezzo felt sheepish lingering in front of that room. He knocked a couple more times as he waited, increasingly afraid of getting caught alone in that corridor.
Like she's going to appear out of thin air if I knock insistently enough,
he scolded himself.
Ezzo felt unsurprisingly relieved once he finally saw his mistress approaching. It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes, but the wait had felt like an hour.
Clara had a polite smile on her face, though Ezzo noticed her footsteps hastening as she saw him. He wasn't certain if she'd even done it intentionally. Like the day before, she had opted for a simple tunic, this time a light green one that went well with her blonde hair. She stopped in front of her slave with her hands clasped in front of her belly.
"Sorry I'm late," his mistress said earnestly. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Lady Clara," Ezzo bowed to her. He couldn't quite bring himself to orally "forgive" her for her delay, even if he did feel sorry about it.
Cruel as it might be, I don't think I'll be able to remain punctual if my mistress leaves me up for grabs in the corridor.
They spent an awkward moment looking at each other. Ezzo didn't quite know if the onus was on him to speak up. Thankfully, the youngest Locke ended up breaking the silence between them.
"Would you like to walk with me in the garden, Ezzo? It's a lovely morning today."
He was quick to consent to such an offer. A walk through the garden sounded a lot less invasive than anything Vera Locke had hinted at the day before. Without much delay, the two of them headed out of the manor. It was remarkable how much having Clara by his side made walking through the Locke mansion less scary.
The garden was even further east than the slave barracks in the estate. It would have made for a wonderful view the slaves might have been able to enjoy.
Of course, that would require giving those tiny slave chambers windows. And why waste resources on that?
Prickly thoughts aside, the garden was a majestic sight. It almost felt like a forest amidst the cut grass and trimmed flower brushes that grew sparingly alongside the outer estate wall.
Back home, no one's mental image of a garden would include these many trees
, he mused. Two rows of imposing stone pines had formed a natural roof with their crowns, granting shade to anyone walking towards the central fountain of the garden.
Clara took the liberty of sitting on a stone bench right in front of the fountain. The water poured out of a brass statue that was roughly Ezzo's size. It had been carved in the shape of an androgynous hero subduing a lion with a jagged chain. This slender human was gripping the two ends of the chain, strangling the roaring feline with its thorns. From the supposed wounds on the lion's neck, water poured out into the fountain.
Violence, chains, and naked people. It's a Bbrasian piece of art, alright,
he nodded to himself.
When he remembered his situation, Ezzo noticed Clara was staring patiently at him, waiting for him to sit down next to her. He quickly apologized, before doing just that. With a timid smile, she turned her head back towards the fountain.
"That's the myth of Barci subduing the Great Lion of Khersopolis. We Lockes claim we descended from her. Or him. We don't know the sex. I like to think she was a woman," she ventured a grin at him. "By killing the legendary lion, a war was averted and Khersopolis swore fealty to Bbrasia."
Averting a war? I'm surprised Bbrasians even like this person,
he thought to himself, before feeling a little bad about it. If there was one person that hadn't yet deserved his internal scoffing, it was probably Clara.
"Very interesting," he said diplomatically. Then, upon finding that to be insufficient, he added, "And it's an impressive statue. Very detailed."
Clara tilted her head, looking at the grisly fountain for a moment. Then, she sighed and let her shoulders sag.
"Look... I... I know why my mother bought you. I'm not... stupid, you know?"
Ezzo frowned.
Or we can talk about
that
, I suppose.
"I didn't think you were, my lady."
"I'm not like them. My mother. My sisters. They seem... so confident in what they like. I'm not sure I even like... anything."
Ezzo couldn't help but feel a little for his young mistress. True, her problems were minimal in comparison to his. But still, it wasn't like she'd
chosen
this any more than Ezzo had. He spoke as politely as he could, trying not to highlight the disparity between their woes.
"My lady," Ezzo tried to suppress his accent to make his words sound more serious and sincere, "you are the mistress. I cannot force you to do anything you are not ready or willing to do."
If only it worked the same way for me
, he sighed internally.
Clara chuckled lightly at his words.
"My mother will
kill
me if I don't use my own Scombian slave for months on end."
She paused, then glanced at Ezzo with an apologetic expression.
"Sorry... maybe 'use' is a bad verb."
"I've heard worse," Ezzo said with a nod. To his surprise, what came next did not remain confined in his skull. "Mostly from your relatives."
His mistress chuckled again, this time a little less nervously.
"Still... Thank you. Your words are a small comfort. And you're right. I'm uhm... technically in charge. We won't do anything unless I command it."
Ezzo shook his head, even if it didn't feel particularly necessary.
"Still, I don't doubt my mother will eventually ask you how things are going between us."
She pursed her lips, blushing a little. Ezzo's first day at the Locke estate had already rendered him immune to feeling shame so easily.
"Maybe you could... be evasive? Like... just tell her things are going fine?"
There are a few things I could tell Vera Locke to appease her curiosity. Playing coy and being vague are not among them, Lady Clara.
The words didn't come out, but his mistress must have read his facial expression.
"Well, I know she can get a little... pushy when she wants to," she pushed a strand of blonde hair away from her eyes. "But maybe just... pretend we're exploring. You uhm... probably know more about this than me, right? You can make it convincing."
"Uh..." Ezzo scratched the back of his head. He didn't want to shut Clara down too harshly.
But fooling Vera Locke is one tall order
, he grumbled internally.
Let's not get her hopes up.
"I cannot promise it will work. But I can at least try."
"But... you're a Scombian."
He had to frown at that. This little chat had almost been enough for him to forget that Clara herself was Bbrasian, but that comment was enough of a reminder.
"Oh," Clara must have noticed his displeasure. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to offend you."
"It's okay, my lady," Ezzo forced the frown off his face as he spoke. He had to suppress the urge to clarify that there was, in fact, no shortage of bad and selfish lovers in Scombia either. "I know you meant no harm."
"Anyway... I'm glad we were able to talk about this," she smiled at him, as if it had been his personal choice to address the elephant in the room. "And now that we're here... well... I can tell you I'm quite proud of my family's garden. And I'd love to show you around."
Before Ezzo knew it, he was being led along stone pathways amidst the pines. Clara was certainly knowledgeable about plants, to the point where she became an overwhelming guide. From that moment until the end of their exploration, Clara turned into a fountain of information that was simply too overflowing for Ezzo to retain it.
Most of the names, facts, and botanical recommendations Clara was generously sharing with him were quickly being forgotten, even before the tour ended. Still, the Scombian tried to cling to a few of the easier facts. He had a faint idea that rose bulbs were too thick to flower press - hence you should only go for the petals. He also remembered her mentioning some trees that could uproot others, though those only existed in the furthest colonies of the Bbrasian Empire. There was also something about a berry plant curing headaches, but the fact Clara started talking about its roots rather than the fruits just disoriented Ezzo right away.
