Where the Sun Meets Duthalia

Chapter 9

Once the door was shut, she did her best to push the guard out of her mind.

The room was everything the servant's quarters hadn't been. It was the most lavish bedroom she had ever seen. A large four poster bed covered in crimson and gold bedding stood against the wall in the center of the room. Around the posts wound vines carved out of the wood. On one side was a tall dresser with matching vine covered posts. On the other side was a small table with a thin, shaded lamp, which emitted a similar light to what she had seen in the servant's bathing room. A long, padded bench was at the end of the bed. It was covered in a pattern similar to the bedding, but with more gold. There was a tiny dining table, a dressing table with a mirror, and a separate sitting area with two comfortable looking padded chairs near an empty fireplace.

As exquisite as the room was, Ethney felt very out of place and was unsure what to do. So, she just stood near the door, pinching, and tugging at her shift.

The elven woman sat on one of the padded chairs and gestured with a wave of her arm to the other.

"Come sit. I'm Sorcha. What's your name, child?"

"Ethney, ma'am," she answered as she joined the woman in the chair opposite, startled that this was the first person here who had even acted like she had a name of her own.

"Oh, please don't ma'am me. This position is precarious enough without reminders of one's age," she laughed with a somewhat self-deprecating smile which surprised Ethney. The woman was so beautiful and poised. Could she possibly have any insecurities?

"I'm sorry, I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to speak to anyone in this place."

"Oh, you're doing fine. Seems you've already worked some charm on our Faolan."

"He didn't seem too charmed," she said, wincing at the memory of how he had snatched his arm from her grip and dismissed her so frigidly.

"If you believe that, then you truly are inexperienced with men. How old are you, Ethney?"

Despite what felt like a disparaging remark, Ethney warmed at the sound of someone using her name.

"Twenty, ma- Sorcha."

"This is grown for a Sogalta girl, yes? You certainly look grown, even short as you are," she said.

"Yes. Quite grown. Our females are generally considered grown by sixteen." She thought about Sorcha's words to Faolan. "Do you really think I'm too..." She cringed, not sure why she should care what these Luthgrians thought of her. It would be far better to be sent back to the kitchens anyhow. She wasn't sure exactly what they wanted from her, but all the comments about her body made her think of Ralph and his greedy eyes and hands.

"You shouldn't allow anyone to nettle you so easily. That was just my own pettiness. Of course you're lovely. You are built differently than Luthgrian women. But that's probably why Lord Tynan took an interest in you. A girl like you can be like an exotic fruit. A man may find comfort in familiar fare, but many are eager to try something new. So, you've truly not been taken by a man. No husband? No lover?"

"No. Nothing like that. My friend Simon asked me, but I didn't want to be his wife or anything like that."

Sorcha nodded, looking thoughtful.

"Do you understand what is expected of you? I apologize for being blunt, but you should know if you do not."

"I... uh," she stammered. "I... no. I don't. Not exactly. No one has said much of anything to me. They only look at me and talk about me then push me somewhere else. I just want to go home. Or at least back to Elsa in the kitchens."