I Am Mustafin

| 13 | - Prejudice

I sit at the dining room table, gazing at the bowl of oatmeal and fruit set on the placement mat before me. I'm trying to be patient, waiting for Efrem to join me—as he always does at meal time—but this time, when I walked into the dining room just a few moments ago, he wasn't here.

It's odd. He's usually here before I am.

"He won't be joining you this morning," Tavin says after a minute, my eyes snapping to look up at him. He has been standing in the corner of the room since he escorted me from my bedroom to here. "He's...preoccupied..." his voice trails off.

That's right. He isn't to let me out of his sight until Efrem says otherwise. I'm almost surprised that I'm still allowed to be in my bedroom alone.

I wish it was Isaak who was here all the time...

I haven't seen him since the night that I tried to run away. I'm not sure if it's on purpose or if it's because he's busy doing whatever he does for Efrem.

Maybe it's better this way...

A soft sigh passes my lips as I pick the spoon from the silverware sitting beside the bowl of oatmeal. I stir it, mixing the blueberries and raspberries before eating my meal, thoughtfully. There are moments where I casually glance up to look at Tavin, studying him as he pretends that he isn't staring at me when I'm not looking at him.

I eye him for a while longer, waiting for him to avert his gaze to me before asking, "Why are you staring at me?"

"You're the first I've met," he replies sincerely.

No, I'm not.

I don't know how Isaak did it, but he has them all fooled. He isn't a pure blood. I know it, and I know that Efrem does too. What I don't understand is...how is it that no one else does? Did he somehow tamper with the blood-test results? If he did, does that mean that he also tampered with mine?

Both of my parents were pure bloods, Diallo and Talos. The blood of Mustafin does not run in my veins.

I am not Mustafin.

I lean back on my chair, still looking at Tavin and I ask him, "You don't eat?"

"Not with you." He shakes his head.

Oh?

"You find me that repulsive?" I mutter, crossing my arms just beneath my breasts.

I think this is the first time I've ever seen him falter, his eyebrows furrowing at me. "I-I didn't mean it that way," he hesitates. "I mean, I'm just here to make sure that nothing happens to you."

"What?" I scoff, "Is the fork gonna attack me or something?"

He snickers, a smirk dancing on his lips as he flickers his gaze away from my own.

Oh? He has a sense of humor.

"So," I clear my throat, shifting uncomfortably in my chair as the painful cramps in my lower abdomen remind me that a toilet paper pad won't save me very long. I say to him, "Since you're stuck to me to make sure nothing happens to me, can you also take me o—"

"No," he cuts me off. "You aren't allowed outside of these walls until Efrem says otherwise."

Of course.

I arch an eyebrow, nodding hesitant before pointing out, "So, when he's not around his name is Efrem, but when he is, his name is Master Efrem?"

He pauses, slightly tilting his head to a side. "We address him differently when in front of company," he tells me. "You should too."