Raw Winter

Chapter 8: Master

It wasn't so bad, meeting Sir Nevel one on one for the first time. She didn't know what he was going to do to her after such a blunt examination from Tirenen. He just seemed like a lonely, less than socialized man. She could easily imagine how someone like Tirenen could influence him into behaving meanly if it meant impressing him when he was around. He could definitely picture him thinking someone like Tirenen was smart or interesting, even if he didn't understand what sort of things he did.

Winter couldn't say any better as she felt if it weren't for how he embarrassed her, maybe she would feel the same. There were still days when she felt that way about Hades, no matter how bad she knew he was for selling her into slavery.

"What are you thinking about, my pet?" Nevel asked as she realized she had been staring without so much as talking since they had come out to the garden to eat. There were finger foods and small glasses of various fruit juices, but it was much more than she had gotten since the day they returned. She ate as much as she could without it being obvious. She reached for a small sandwich as if that was all she was considering—whether to take a sandwich or a fruit ball. He seemed pleased with her decision when her hand moved over to the fruit ball instead.

"Oh, nothing important," she responded. "It was very kind for you to invite me out here, sir." She hesitated. She knew she should refer to him as master, but just couldn't manage it. It almost felt derogatory towards him, just as much as it was for her as someone expected to say it.

"You don't have to call me that," he said, and she almost expected him to ask her to call him by name. "Master is fine." He grinned at her, and she expected him to laugh and say he was joking and maybe allow her to call him by his actual name, but he didn't. She forced a laugh, knowing he expected it, and it seemed to please him. As she reached out to take something else, he took her hand. She almost pulled away, but remembered she was expected to let him.

"Of course, master," she replied when he looked at her expectantly, a smile plastered on his face, making his cheeks round.

She was still holding out for him to say it was all a joke and he wouldn't make her actually call him that.

He said instead, "You're one of the prettier ones I've had, aren't you? And you're so young."

"I suppose so, master," she replied, trying not to show her distaste for how sweaty his hands were or the way he was rubbing her palms and wrists with his pushy thumbs. She tried not to let her face curl at how uncomfortable the word was in her mouth.

"What breeding did you come from?" He asked. "Certainly you couldn't have been just any old girl. Maybe your father was a noble? I know how mean Tirenen can come across when you first meet him, but I promise I'm your friend. I can keep a secret."

"Well," she said, "it's not really a secret of any sort. I don't know my father. That's as simple as it gets. He could have been anyone. He might have been noble. I'm proud of my family name no matter who my father was."

He frowned, his forehead showing lines before he said, "why don't we try again? Haven't you ever fantasized about being a princess? Would you like to wear long, flowing gowns and go to balls? I can certainly arrange any fantasy you might have. I'm a very affluent man, and you're mine."

"I've always wanted to be a naval officer," she answered. "I've always imagined sailing the seas and capturing pirates."

He shook his head and replied, "That's a bit of a dominant position, isn't it? Not really the best thing for a woman to be, I think."

"Excuse me?" She replied.

She could feel his grip tightening on her hands—he had got both of them—and she could hardly ignore the way he was pulling her, so she had to lean over the table to keep her hands in his grip. She could hear him audibly say under his breath, "Maybe it is best if you're just a dog. Better to forget all of that nonsense and shape up."