For a long while she sat there, slumped back in her chair and arm cast over her eyes, not wanting to look at him. No noise came from her also, aside from her heavy breathing. All in all she had been known this was coming. His instances of one day taking her to Hernsford Port, an independent city state and island in the ocean to the east that was the only society nearly fully built on the backs of slaves, and funded by a thriving slave trade - and the only place where you could buy an internationally recognised slave - had been many. Ever since he had decided to transfer her from Hollow to manor house. For him it was more than just the legal status, and she knew it, had to admit it. For him it was the structure of owning something he had been denied by his father, and being responsible for it.
Ever since his father and single parent, the lone god Ansaldo, had banished Vitruvion from his realm with declerations that, "This mightiest of projects had failed," and that, "It was a mistake - two gods can't rule a planet after all," Vitruvion had searched for a way to fulfill his destiny. It had been hampered by the fact that upon arriving on Althanas, that the vast patheon of gods already residing there had deemed Vitruvion impossible to try to play a part, and comdemned him to be trapped in a physical form - and bound to secrecy as to his real identity. At first Vitruvion had created the Hollow - the ex-catacombs turned prison and sexual pleasurehouse, and his personal empire - but that had only gained him coping for so long. When he and Stare had discovered their true connection - that her race was from Ansaldo's planet also, and likewise banished, Vitruvion believed his destiny had finally begun. He claimed Stare as his own, calling himself her 'god' because there was no one else to take a diety's place in her life. For him, Stare had to admit, the whole Hernsford matter was about him declaring himself her god publicly, but in the only way he could without without breaking the rules of the pantheon.
In her heart, understanding and pity writhed for the man sitting across the desk from her, no matter how much she swore she hated him. Despite everything he did, and everything cruel he was responsible for, Stare had respect for the man, and comprehension for way Vitruvion lived his life.
"I did tell you it was coming," he said quietly once more. His voice strangely sounded concerned. Maybe he was only seeing the pain she felt right now, and not the thoughts swimming in the deeper, considering part of her mind.
Slowly she let out a sigh and lowered her arm. Her eyes opened, and she rubbed her beak, skin running down the smooth, long form.
"Yeah, you did," she admitted, raising her eyes to meet his. "Can we just keep it private please, unless, as you say, you need to use it."
Vitruvion regarded her a moment, his blue eyes patient and studious. Then he inclined his head once, elegantly. "Very well. Unmentioned it becomes. It will be easier for avoiding questions, still allowing you respect from your guards ... and so on. Like your cuff, which we have agreed is a one to one decisionary basis, when we agree."
"Like if I want to rant about you."
"Indeed," he smiled, then he lowered his hands so they both rested on the top of his cane. "So you are accepting of the situation?"
Stare nodded, and ran her hand through the feathers at her head. "I am. It is done, I understand the reasons for it, we move on."
"Exactly," the god agreed, "Now, the other subject I wished to talk to you about. Your powers."
"What about them?" she asked, eager for the change in conversation.
"You have started to see people's chakras, their magic and energy, I think. That, and managed to stun my sister."
