“Okay.”
Done, she folded the book closed, and began to gather the various sheets into a pile. They neatly came together with a few taps of the ends on the wooden table. Then, opening the front cover of the book only Stare threw the sheets inside, and ended her accounting for the day. Setting the tome aside, she let out a satisfied sigh before brushing her tunic down, pausing, and finally looking at Guilia.
Who was still sitting as she had left her, ten minutes prior.
“I'm assuming Maester Rafael does not need you then right now.”
“Oh,” Guilia shook her head. “No, he is resting right now, and said just to go to alert him to dinner.”
Dinner. Stare paused as she remembered she would not eat in the dining room tonight on account of Vitruvion's guest. “Ah right,” she nodded slowly. “And have you worked for him long?”
“My mother bore me when she herself was in Maester Rafael's possession,” she said with a brightness to her voice. “And I was then born under his roof, thus …”
The kenku blinked, trying to understand. “Thus …?”
“Thus, naturally, I am his.”
His. As in his possession also. Stare stopped as she realised this was part of the slavery tradition of Hernsford. Any slave who gave birth would have their child then declared the immediate possession of whoever's owner the mother was. Perhaps even the father. It took Stare a moment to remember exactly how Guilia was related to Rafael and she sucked in her breath as she was reminded of who they were …
“Oh right, of course,” Stare spoke fast. “Apologies.”
Guilia looked confused. “You … did not know that?”
The kenku shook her head.
“But how not?” came the question, incredulously spoken, “That is one of the basic rules of slavehood. Simple, in fact, everyone knows that!”
Stare blinked, suddenly taken aback. “Guilia, I'm sorry I offended you but I'm not of Hernsford. We don't have sl- that here, at all. Only with the exception of your city’s international laws. We-”
“But you are one,” said Guilia, confused and now frowning. “You are a slave.”
Silence fell in the room. Never before had anyone told her the truth of her identity so flatly and truthfully. The kenku stared at the human with dark, passionate eyes, and her breathing became hard. For a moment, all there was, was heartbeats, before Stare broke eye contact and threw her eyes to the door, hoping, beyond anything, that nobody heard.
Instead, someone was standing right in the doorway. Right there, obvious and glorious, dressed in dark, blue tailcoat and breeches. His fine black boots were made of the best leather, and he had in his hand a dark wood cane. Casually, he was leaning against the open doorway with his long white hair loose and trailing over a shoulder. His piercing blue eyes watched her carefully, gently, and on his lips was the faintest hint of a smile.
