Ziva held her face still as she walked through the house to her own apartments. The servants could not see her tears nor her fear and loathing. What had she done to attract the attention of that dark man? She ignored all his advances at parties, looking the other way, walking with friends to the women’s area, even leaving early. Did he not see she had no interest in him?

She reached her door and hurried into the sanctity of her private apartment. She threw herself onto her couch, at last allowing her tears to fall. “That snake holds no power over me. I will not participate in any of his festivals, especially not the Planting Festival. What man would ask his mate to do such disgusting things? Him. And the other priests of Lorca. What a disgusting cult. I will never follow that cult. I will not mate with him. Ever.”

“Who, my lady?” Ana stepped close as if to touch Ziva’s shoulder, then thought better of it.

“Qinten.” Ziva spat the word out like bad meat. “He thinks he can force me to mate him. Worse yet, he wants to force me to lead the rites of the Planting Festival as his mate.”

Ana clapped her hand to her mouth. “Not Qinten. I have heard of him. Rumors spread through the women in the city. You want nothing to do with him.”

Ziva jumped from the couch. “I have not heard the rumors, and, no, do not share them with me. I want no more of his filth to soil me.” She slipped her dress off her shoulders and let it puddle around her feet. “I must wash. Burn that dress.”

“But my lady, … you love this dress.” Ana scooped the dress from the floor.

“Not any more. It stinks of him. I will not wear it, ever again.”

“But burn it? Will you not change your mind?”

Ziva stared at her maid. “No, do not burn it. Wash his filth from it, then give it away. Find some poor girl in need of a dress. I will not have it in this house.”

“I will have it washed. I know a girl in need of a nice dress.” Ana held the dress away from her. “After his filth is removed, she will be happy with it.”

“Be sure the girl does not work here in my father’s house. I do not want that dress to remind me or father of this day.”

Ziva stalked, naked, from the room toward her bathing pool. She heard Ana open the door to her apartments and allowed a shudder to shake her. I can’t wear that ever again, but I can’t do that with every dress Qinten sees me in. It would cost father too much to replace my clothing. But he touched me. Ugh!

She sat on the stool and scrubbed her body viciously with a rough brush before stepping into the pool. She sat, immersed to the chin in the warm water. The slow current washed away her anger. If I refuse to marry him, what will Qinten do to father’s business? Ziva sat thinking of all the possible consequences of her refusal, shivering in the warmth of the pool.

There must be a way out of this trap. Her father was known as an able businessman who had bested others who had tried to lay traps for him. With Com at his side, surely they could think of something. Ziva paddled to the center of the pool, her long, honey-blond hair trailing. She flipped over to stare into the blue sky through the skylight. Father would find a way. She had to trust him.

Ana came in sometime during her contemplation. She sat beside the pool with a bucket of warm water and a basket of soap. Ziva sighed and flipped over once more to paddle to where Ana sat.

“I can wash my hair.”

“I know, my lady, but I wish to comfort you.”

Ziva sat with her back to Ana and allowed her to scrub the soap through her hair. Ana’s strong fingers massaged her head, soothing the ache Ziva only noticed at the touch.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“How did you know my head aches?” Ziva murmured, her eyes closed to the soap.

“Who would not have a headache after dealing with Qinten”

Ziva relaxed as Ana poured water from the bucket through her hair to rinse away the soap. Ana scrubbed her hair twice more, rinsing between.

“That should wash away his filth.” Ana set the empty bucket beside the pool. “Do you feel better, yet?”

“Yes, thank you. I will find a way out of his trap. I will not mate with Qinten.”

“Doesn’t your friend, Tawna, desire a mating with him?” A tentative fear filled Ana’s voice. She rushed on, “I know better than to share the things I hear in your apartments. I heard her share a desire for him.”

“Tawna does not know what is good for her. Qinten is too evil for any of my friends. I wouldn’t wish him even on an enemy.”

“Wouldn’t another woman be a better choice than you?”

“It would.” Ziva shook her head. “But who? Not one of my friends. How can I encourage his attentions toward one of my friends?”

“There are ways.”

Ziva looked at Ana. “How would you know?”

~ ~ ~

“Why did I have to say anything to the Master?” Nat muttered. “I know how to be circumspect. Now, look at me.” He spread his arms out and turned to show off the change in his clothing.

“You look good in kitchen clothes,” Drak teased. He thought better of the friendly slap on his back a narrow hand width away.

His friends had told him that Drak and Avram had watched the strapping from the kitchen door, waiting for Selib to drop his arm after the required twenty lashes and turn to stride into the house. They had run to untie Nat’s hands and to carry him between them from the lashing pole.

Nat’s two friends had carried him gently into their sleeping space, washed his back and applied honey to the injuries. For three days, Nat had slept. Avram told him later that Drak had returned to him as often as he could, daubing the honey mixture on his back and forcing down a tea of shepherd’s purse. Now, Nat finally felt well enough to return to the kitchen, though he still moved slowly and carefully.

“Cook couldn’t let you be his helper anymore,” Drak said. “Avram took your place. And, after you were strapped, you could not take a position of honor in the kitchen.” Drak led the way into the kitchen.

“I understand that. I could not expect Cook to give me special benefits. I am grateful to have a place in the kitchen.” Nat turned the corner to see Cook, Baker, and all the helpers. He stood still, just looking, remembering the good times he had with his friends. Did he have friends now? Drak and Avram were still his friends. There were none among the slaves who worked directly with the Master.

Drak touched Nat’s shoulder, returning him to the present. “Cook has agreed to allow you to turn the spit and help peel vegetables. Today you can peel. Tomorrow, you will probably be expected to turn the spit. Cook wants you to be careful.”

“No. He wouldn’t want me to fall into the fire.” Nat grinned to show he understood.

“No, too much trouble for him if you did.” Drak chuckled and led his friend into the room.

Cook looked up and nodded a welcome. Other men and boys stared at him for a long breath, then shuddered or shook their heads and returned to work. Not their business who worked in the kitchen. Nat had seen it before. If Cook accepted him, he would be welcomed.

Avram ran from the pantry with a basket of potatoes and set them on the worktable, nodding to Nat who nodded to Drak and walked to the worktable. He opened the drawer with sharp knives, found his favorite for peeling potatoes, and picked up a potato to peel. He was happy to have something to do and to have a place still in the house.

As the day passed, Nat expressed surprise to Avram, who worked nearby, that no one had come to take him to the slave market.

“Qinten sells too many slaves after a lashing. Cook prefers to do what he can to help. It is easier to work with someone who knows what happens here than train a new slave.” Avram shrugged a shoulder as he answered in a low voice.

Nat knew he was lucky. “I am happy to be back in kitchen clothing. I’m grateful to be able to work finally. I would much rather be here than washing pots in the yard.”

“You are lucky to be in the kitchens.” Avram nodded. “Your back would not manage the inside of a pot.”

“Nor would it be happy to be waiting to be sold again in the slave market. I appreciate the opportunity to continue in the service of Qinten, even in the kitchen. I was told once I would never serve in the kitchens again.”

Avram snorted softly. “Shows you what they knew.”

“Yeah, not much.” He smiled and picked up a carrot to peel.

Avram smiled and returned to his work, helping Cook. Nat continued to peel vegetables.