Sold

6: Meltdown

I didn't expect to cry so easily. 

I had no idea I'd have that much of a meltdown, but it felt like all of the stress from recent events crashed down on me all at once. Back in my home village, I wanted nothing but to be alone with myself, but now I feel like being alone with nothing to do makes me think and feel things I don't want to focus on.

Alone in the silence of this estate, I don't have anything to distract me from my sadness.

Perhaps that was the one good thing about my home village. Even though I felt empty inside, even though I was unhappily betrothed, even though I was lonely without my mother, and even though my father never looked my way with anything besides disdain, I could at least keep too busy to think about it. There was always something to be doing or some villager whispering gossip about me to eavesdrop on.

The bedroom door creaks back open. I turn my head to peek over, eyes puffy and throat sore from sobbing.

Master Synn stands in the entryway, holding a plate topped with some sort of steaming flour-wrapped herbs. His gaze pierces me as he approaches - no doubt noticing my bloated, red eyes - but he doesn't comment on them. He sets the plate atop the dresser.

My heartbeat spurs and I worry he's going to leave again. I don't know Master Synn well - actually, I don't know him at all - but I feel scared of being left alone in this room again. 

What if I'm here alone until my next meal, and then the meal after that? Back in the forest, I would have given anything to be alone but now...after all of the trauma since leaving my village...I want anything but to be alone. I don't want to feel that sadness again.

"Master Synn, there isn't much to do in my room to pass the time!" The words leave me desperately and I do my best to force a smile. I hope he'll turn around. I pray he'll say something. He can't leave if I've said something to him, can I?

He does turn around. His sharp eyes scan me from head to toe and I curtsy for good measure. I wonder if I've angered him by speaking so boldly; in fact, I'm not sure at all how a "slave" is supposed to speak to a "Master." Will I be punished for what I've said? Would being punished still be better than being left alone?

His angled eyebrows press together, but he doesn't say anything. Even in the brief moments I've spent with Master Synn, I can tell he doesn't talk as much as people did in my village. I'm not sure why. Maybe Draconians rarely speak in general. Maybe he doesn't want to associate directly with slaves. Or maybe he doesn't enjoy speaking.

Whatever the reason - if I'm doomed to staying here with him - I might as well figure it out. Surely there's a way to get him to talk at least a little bit so I'm not so horribly bored.

"Could you..." I've never before pouted at a man, but I find myself doing it now. "...please stay with me, Master Synn?"

His sharp eyes watch me carefully.

"For what reason?" He finally speaks. After the silence in the long wagon ride and the emptiness since I've been in this room, the sound of someone saying anything to me feels like music to my ears.

I open and close my mouth. What can I tell him? What will he respond well to? If I say I'm lonely, he will probably just leave. That's probably also something very out of place for a slave to say to their Master. What if I say I'm afraid? Will he take pity on me? I fumble for words, stammering when I finally gather some.

"I-I am not sure what kind of food that is..." I gesture to the tray he sat on the dresser. My heartbeat stutters alongside my words. "I'm a-also in need of clothes to wear."

"It's fried herra root with aune leaves and junaberry sauce, wrapped in a flour pastry." His low voice dips even lower. There's something pleasant about hearing him speak, or maybe I truly have been lonely for too long. "I will find something for you to wear, eventually. I...wasn't expecting to ever need anything like this."

"Who is Fexen?" I press, eager to learn more about all of this and desperate to keep any sort of conversation flowing.

"An intrusive neighbor." His gaze drifts over my body and then to the bedroom door. His sharp eyebrows pinch together as if it's painful for him to even stay in the room alongside me.

"He seems like a friend." I burst as I notice his foot inch closer to the door. "Isn't he?"

"Perhaps he'd like to think that. I'd say we're people who have lived near one another for too long." His jaw tenses. Have I annoyed him by asking too many questions? "Why does Fexen matter, anyway?"

"I'm sorry, sir. He doesn't matter at all. Thank you for the food!" I pitch my voice an octave higher. The last thing I want to do right now is fully piss Master Synn off, but it seems like I'm doing just that. All I want is for him to stay a little longer; can't he see that?

He hesitates for a moment and then nods. His expression softens.

"Behave well for me and I may bring you entertainment." He turns and steps out of the room, gently closing and locking the door behind him. I may have imagined it, but I could have sworn I saw the slightest hint of a smile cross his lips.

My eyebrows un-tense and I close my eyes in defeat. No, of course, he wouldn't smile at me. I must be going crazy. I don't know much about Draconians but they aren't supposed to be friendly. And I don't know much about Masters and slaves but I doubt owners typically smile at their property.

I'm probably just imagining what I wish I'd see.

Perhaps it's because, in an entirely different situation, I'd love for a handsome Draconian male to look down at me and smile.

If Meben had that tall, slender body and smooth, pallid skin I truly could have thought he was the most beautiful man in my village. If he had those drawing white eyes and intriguing patterns of scales lacing down his face and neck...perhaps I would have been more open to...

My thoughts hit me like a shock of ice-cold water, sobering me as soon as they cross my mind.

This Draconian is my Master. He's not the engaged suitor that I'm destined to marry and I'm nothing but his property. And it's ludicrous for me to find him attractive.