She watched with a growing sadness as he vanished into the portal of magical creation. His form slowly and gently melting away out of sight, into a world beyond that which she could grasp. Some shimmers of illumination, a couple of winking stars and then he was out of her life. Again. He who knew who she was. Who understood why she could never leave Vitruvion.
It took her time to walk back into the house. Her footsteps were reluctant, and closing the door was hardier and the object heavier than she ever had noticed before. Gradually she came back to the dining room and slumped down in her seat to sit there, eyes dropping to gaze at her half-eaten meal. A soft sigh came from between her lips, and she was aware of quiet conversation happening between Vitruvion and Ventrua. A discussion of where they all sat now, a guarantee of truths and responsibilities.
“The responsibility lies mostly with him now,” Vitruvion said. “I warned him of the consequences should he even hint to his … cat girlfriend. He knows of who is involved.”
“Yes, all the gods of Althanas,” Ventura commented. “Well the major ones. The others had to really go along with their decision.”
The white-haired man breathed in slowly. “Indeed,” he replied with a dry tone. “Do you actually remember if any fought against the decision, Ventrua?”
The half-goddess shrugged. “I am not sure brother. At least you found …”
And some other things were said, but Stare was not listening then. Her eyes slid closed, and she pressed her body to the table. So many things had happened. The discovery that Vitruvion did not hate her soul, but rather had a love for her. A love more than an owner to his possession? Likely. And Nevin - Nevin knew of everything now. What she was, where she had come from. Well, he knew everything apart from one specific secret, but she was never going to admit that to her best friend was she now?
She paused. Best friend? Was Nevin really that to her? She thought of all the other good people in her life - Raevin, Mer … no, wait, forget her as a friend, Brer, Nosdyn - they were all friends but not in the same way as Nevin was … she thought. He had called her sister at one point. Maybe he could be that, a sibling to her. It wasn't like either of them really had one themselves. Well aside from Vitruvion but he was different in every situation.
“Stare.”
She barely noticed the word.
A sigh, then, Stare.
Hmm? she glanced up, eyes bright and filled with hope at the idea of a surrogate brother. Soon she would forget Nevin's admission that he had liked her more than a friend. That would forever be in their past, she was determined.
Vitruvion had an eyebrow curved. “Right. Now, we have things to discuss.”
It was then Stare noticed that Ventrua had gone. The half-goddess had left her chair and gone out of the room altogether. With a quick scan of her eyes the kenku found that she was not in the near vicinity.
“Firstly, you are right, a relationship in your case with anyone would complicate things. Anything. If you need to have a brief connection with someone in the future, that we can discuss, but a relationship would cause too many problems. A conflict of loyalties for a start.” He paused, “So I forbid you from seeking out one, or having one. Call it your punishment for the idiot action with the fire.”
The dull eyes bore holes into him. “I wasn't going to seek one anyway.”
“Well, it determines where we stand upon it. And I will adhere to my own promise not to use you as I did in the Hollow. With that we have an accord. It is not your use to me.” He slid a hand smoothly to tuck hair behind his ear, and smiled delightfully at her. “Yes?”
“Yeah,” she grunted in reply.
His smile warmed.
“We have to start organising how things will run now Raevin is not here. And ... I have a guest coming in a month. I need you to ready the house for him. I received his letter yesterday but obviously other issues became more important.”
With that she looked up, brow furrowing. “A guest?”
“One that I invited some time ago, but it seems he has time now.” He leant back, taking up his coffee. “He's from Hernsford city. The port.”
Hernsford. Stare suddenly felt the blood drain from her face. “Hernsford?” she questioned, unbelieving. “You mean?”
“The same one,” he nodded. “The only Hernsford, that there is. And the man who is coming is the very same merchant.”
The one who had arranged everything for Vitruvion's official ownership of her. Stare groaned loudly, feeling ugly, horrible and sick.
“He knows of who you are, and the circumstances, Stare. Our arrangement.” He straightened. “Anyway, what we need to do is …”
And the next several hours were spent organising what precisely a visiting political official’s needs were, in a foreign city. From another that depended entirely on slavery.
