“You don’t ever need to train to fight if you don’t want to,” Taurin had told her.

She went on to explain that handmaids to noblewomen were close to being nobility themselves. They were able to marry above their station and therefore are expected to behave like noblewomen. Noblewomen didn’t fight, so she shouldn’t either.

Taurin spent days showing her around - one of the days was spent moving Nilda to a new room closer to Taurin’s. There wasn’t much to move. Nilda was surprised when the clothes given to her after her arrival at the Leton household was referred to as ‘her clothes’. The bed in the new room was even finer than the one in the servant’s basement, all covered with expensive linen and pillows worth more than she’s ever owned.

Another day was spent with the house steward to show Nilda her new duties, including brushing Taurin’s hair, serving her breakfast in her room, accompanying her to the women’s college she just started attending and waiting on her at the college until she was done with lectures. Then Nilda had to prepare a bath if Taurin wanted one, brush Taurin’s hair again, then settle her mistress down for bed. It was the most confusing day for Nilda, since Taurin was able to do most of these things herself. Why does she need someone to do these mundane things for her?

Furthermore, Taurin Leton was full of conflicting enigmas - Nilda found that she knew a lot about the world like politics, religion, culture and people, but the woman knew nothing about how the world really worked.

“Why is it that people feel the need to steal?” she once sniffed when they passed by a market and a thief was being chased down and people were running, hollering or shying away from the commotion. Nilda was perplexed at how someone so smart wouldn’t know the answer to such a simple question.

But Nilda didn’t say anything. For a week, she familiarized herself with Taurin’s schedule and simply did what she was told. There were no men to murder, no hiding in stuffy underground fighting rings, no Vartu to yell at her while she ran with rocks on her back. She could eat the fine foods that Taurin ate (albeit the leftovers) and sat in the back of the lecture halls of her college with the other handmaids. Her limbs and muscles no longer ached and she no longer ever felt hungry, angry, sore or frightened. It was as if she could pretend she was a noble if she closed her eyes and imagined hard enough.

On top of that, Taurin made it difficult for anyone to dislike her. Nilda noticed her classmates often ignored their handmaids, leaving them to trail behind them to highlight the fact that they were servants and not equals. Nobles spoke curtly or dismissively and barely ever spared a glance to the ‘help,’ but Taurin often walked next to Nilda and chatted with her like a friend. Of course, Nilda held her books for her and combed her hair, but it still felt different from what the other handmaids were experiencing.

“What did you want to eat tonight?” Taurin asked one day as she wandered the college’s library looking for yet another book. Nilda carried a stack of heavy tomes next to her, patiently waiting for her to pick out the correct ones. From her short training with Vartu, Nilda found she could easily carry any book Taurin needed her to. “I can ask the chef to make it for us.”

There was a drawn out silence, one Nilda only filled because Taurin glanced at her with an eyebrow raised. “Uh… I don’t think it matters what I want,” Nilda said.

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“Why not?” Taurin frowned at the spine of a finely bound book, half pulled it out from its place on the shelf, then returned it.

It was another one of those times where Nilda thought her mistress was both intelligent yet stupid - here she could read and understand these complex tomes about the Great Solvent and runeology, yet she doesn’t yet grasp the difference between a noblewoman and a handmaid. “I don’t think Lord Leton would want me to have a say on what you eat,” Nilda said patiently.

“Dad wants me to be happy,” Taurin grinned at her. “And I want to eat what you want to eat tonight.”

They fell silent again, with Taurin slowly perusing the shelves as Nilda pondered about food. What did she like to eat? Having been fed table scraps by Midge and stealing stale bread or half rotting fruit from the back of market stalls as a child, being served real meals at the Leton household was already like a dream. Every meal there was good.

“I feel that you should think about things that you want in life,” Taurin continued airily. She turned and patted Nilda on the head. “Especially at your age. When I was your age I thought about wanting so many things,” she laughed.

“Are handmaids even supposed to do that?” Nilda muttered.

“Handmaids are people too,” Taurin shrugged. “Same as guardsmen, same as merchants or beggars on the street. People want things. If you have something you want in life, it’ll give you purpose.”

Purpose. What was her purpose? Years ago the Being in Smoke simply told her to survive and here she was, alive. Was she allowed to want more? She ended up telling Taurin she wanted the sweet bread with jam filling they were served once. She didn’t say that it reminded her of the pastry her mother once gave her two lifetimes ago.

As promised, it appeared on her plate at dinner. It was one other thing that Nilda wasn’t used to: Taurin listened to her. A few days later, another sweet bread with jam appeared at dinner. Taurin shot her a smile when Nilda looked up at her in shock. That night, with her belly full of sweet bread, Nilda thought about Taurin’s words to her. Perhaps they were thoughtless words of a wealthy noblewoman. But there they rang in her head, over and over again until she paid attention to them.

If you have something you want in life, it’ll give you purpose.

What did she want in life? Surely she wanted to do more than simply survive. Lord Leton’s face flashed into her mind.

The Great Solvent brought me to you so I accepted you.

Lord Leton thought that she meant something. Taurin treated her like she meant something. She had thought Adlo had given her the world - how foolishly wrong she was. Adlo had rendered her into a tool. Here, with Taurin, perhaps she could actually be someone.

Nilda barely slept. At sunrise, hours before Taurin needed to be woken up, Nilda left her room wearing the boy’s work trousers and tunic she requested from the baffled house steward and found Vartu sharpening his sword out next to the front gate.

He smiled widely at her when she showed up. His neat teeth flashed at her in the dim morning light. Parts, she was going to hate seeing that.

“I knew you would come around back to me, kid,” he said smugly. “They always do.”

She took a deep, irritated sigh at his tone of voice, but thought about Taurin and her father again. What could she do for the only two people in the world who cared about her?

Nilda decided on what she wanted. For once in her life, she craved a purpose. “I need you to keep training me,” she told Vartu.