Certainly, Stare had never heard of someone complaining because they were employed by one of Vitruvion's businesses and paid too little. From what she knew of the mansion's accounts, which she herself often organised, the wages for his workers were above the average. But then, even when she had been living with him at the beginning, as his slave concubine, people had mentioned he was a highly rated employer.

“I am?” he raised his brows as he took in her surface thoughts. “Indeed. How curious.”

“My work,” she said, “And title as your steward. Are those to change?”

“Again, I see very little reason to,” he shrugged. “Of course, committing to your usual work duties now in the circumstances would not be appropriate whilst we face the danger we do, but … in time? We shall see. For now the businesses can certainly govern themselves - in fact I will go visit them tomorrow and organise such.”

There was nothing in it that she was interested in arguing. Thus, she only nodded and laid her head back down into the curve of the sofa, between the back of it and his shoulder.

“The greatest change, Stare, will be how people view you. More dramatically now than … those rumours.” He stiffened slightly, “those have been exaggerated and I have instructed Zulon to quell them but - I will not back down from my desire for … this,” he nodded at her, resting on his side. “That, as I said, is my request if you are so determined that I converse with you on many of the smaller details of our existence.”

“Details that concern my future,” she specifically pointed out.

“Those,” he curled his lip. “But I agreed to those terms, and thus, if it makes you less agitated, then …”

“I want to avoid another situation like the immortality meteor,” her voice was slightly bitter and irritated. “That was not good, and I still have not forgiven you on that front.”

“My defences on that still remain.”

Slightly, she rolled her eyes, but was silent. Their conversations on her surprise about immortality had already been and done, as she had been living with the reality of it for two months and more now.

“For your comfort, for those who ask I will not lie about our … lack of intimacy,” he said quietly. “I would not boast of what I do not have.”

She stiffened slightly, a lump forming in her throat. Yes, he had said, promised even, that he would never touch her inappropriately, as a lover might, but his hand on her hip was uncomfortably close. It was not that she did not trust him, but the reminder …

The hand began to slip from her hip, and she could see the consternation cross his face. The disappointment. The irritation.

“No, wait,” she said quickly, surprising herself more than anything. He paused, hand hallway in the air. Quickly, she shook her head. “I do trust you.”

Hesitantly Vitruvion returned the hand, yet he did it terribly lightly. “I have never lied to you, Stare. I may have hidden the truth, but I have never lied.”

Quietly, she nodded as he replaced his hand, and forced herself to relax. It was, after all, quite a sustainable fact to show he had never lied. It was something he had never done, laying out his expectations of her plainly and obviously.

“So,” he muttered, huffing out his own breath. “Is that everything?”

“Is that everything of your requests?” she asked, tilting her head up him.

He paused, forehead creasing slightly, before he shook his head. “Only that you continue to be as you are. As stubborn as you come,” he twisted his lips into a savage smile. “You still work for me, you are still in my employ and my service. The issues of ownership,” her body beneath his hold tensed, but he continued to go on, having completely expected the reaction, “I will think on and give you an answer in due course. As to your cuff … you have not explicitly requested that that be removed in anyway.”

Stare blinked a few times, her body now exceedingly rigid. Her right hand clasped over the cuff at her left wrist - that immovable thing that he had placed the original on many months ago at the same time as legally laying claim to her. They had both been ways to control her before either of them ever knew about their divine connection. The cuff in every respect had become more of a useful tool, and Stare genuinely had gotten used to the fact that there was always a being behind her, potentially watching.

“I would hope you consider the first seriously,” she growled. “That is … you should know how much it disgusts me.” And the second …” she paused, frowning, wondering why it was nothing she had considered. “It never passed my mind. I think I have gotten used to not having privacy even in my mind anymore that … well.”

He let a pause hang in the air, before he answered. “Yet you did not specify it into your proposal. With those words you have just said, I would strongly suggest it remains it is, for a variety of reasons. Your safety for one. Unless a significantly major issue concerning them emerges.”

“Suggest?” she grumbled.

“We are in the realms of negotiation,” he said lightly. “But you would need to negotiate something particular else in exchange. A fair compromise.”

What was worth the freedom of her mind? Stare could think of one thing that she could give him that might make him consider it, but her mind stopped as soon as she considered it.

“I have nothing,” she grumbled.

“Then we continue as we with it,” then he paused, and he looked down at where his hand rested on her hip before breathing in. “However, Stare, there is something of consequence you should perhaps be aware of.”