The soft clink of a teacup being reunited with its saucer was followed by a satisfied sigh. Captain Galli looked up with a pleased expression, most noticeable by the twinkle in his eyes, for his moustache and beard hid a majority of his smile. "I don't know how you make such good tea with the cheap stuff my bosun always finds," the Captain remarked. Trosyn only smiled as she stood attentively by the small table in the Captain's quarters. "You'd make a fine steward's assistant, Red."

"Steward's assistant?"

"Cabin boy. But I'm not keen on calling you 'boy'," the Captain explained as he lifted the teacup to his mouth for another sip.

"Ah."

Trosyn remained standing as the Captain finished his tea, so she could take the tray away. The two remained in mutual silence for a while. The Captain read over some letters as he enjoyed his touch of civility in the wild waters. Just as his cup was drained, he looked up at Trosyn.

"All finished, sir?" Trosyn asked. He nodded. Just as Trosyn was about to lift the tray, a brown, calloused hand covered hers. The Captain looked at Trosyn's eyes as they slowly lifted. Her gaze immediately dropped to his hand, and he removed it.

"You'd also make a fine wife." Trosyn's eyes fluttered and she lifted the tray as the Captain clasped his hands, placing them on his stomach while he leaned back. Trosyn straightened up, lifted her chin, then laughed.

"Is that an offer?" Trosyn asked, making light of the remark.

"It is." Trosyn's face quickly sobered. Seeing the shift in Trosyn's demeanour, the Captain elaborated, "I'm a widower. I've thought of remarrying, but life on the sea keeps me from home." Trosyn said nothing as she listened to the Captain's proposal, her thumb digging into the tray. "But you seem well suited for life at sea. I could use the companionship. And more of this fine tea," The Captain smiled again. "Think about it."

Trosyn nodded her head. "I will. Thank you." Trosyn gave a small curtsy, hands too occupied with the tray to salute, and she left, albeit a bit more briskly than she had come in.

Trosyn kept moving at a very quick pace, and until her name was called, she didn't even notice that she had sailed right by Volente. She paused, looking over her shoulder at the spindly professor, the sea breeze blowing his silvering hair. "I'm sorry Volente, I don't have time. But I'll see you tonight?"

Volente raised a hand to protest, but she quickly turned and kept walking. After a pause she heard his voice calling and fading behind her "Alright. Tonight, then..."

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When Trosyn finished her chores, she went to the usual table to continue her tale. However, Colto was conspicuously absent. Trosyn looked around, but before she could ask, Baldovo raised a hand then made a sweeping motion.

"Don't worry about him. He got stuck on an inconsistency in the data and is tracking it down. He said to begin without him," Baldovo explained. Trosyn looked at the empty spot he normally occupied, and then sat down.

"Before we begin, is everything okay, Red? You seemed a bit... distracted earlier when you left the Captain's quarters," Volente asked. Baldovo sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and gave Volente a meaningful glare.

"I'm fine. The Captain was just reminding me that there are some decisions I need to make before we get back to Lomany. I have a lot on my mind," Trosyn responded as she coolly laced her fingers together and placed them atop the table.

"Oh. I see," Volente mumbled quietly. "Yes... well... ahem. I imagine there's a lot to consider."

Baldovo stared at Volente for a solid minute before he cleared his throat. "Well then, if memory serves, Benold had an ungracious tantrum because you had the audacity to state the obvious. He wanted a woman. Odd a man of his standing didn't already have a wife, though. Or did he?"

Trosyn belted out a laugh, which left both Baldovo and Volente rather bemused. While she'd made wry chuckles and polite giggles, she hadn't quite brayed like this before. She quickly silenced herself, but a smile remained as she shook her head. "No, he did not. His parents died quite young, so they never had time to arrange a marriage for him. And he was often too busy to arrange it for himself."

"Hm. Well, perhaps you can fill in some of the history between you and Benold. You mentioned you were from two different castes, so how did you meet?" Volente asked as he removed his spectacles to clean them off.

Benold and I? We were indeed from different worlds, although we lived in the same Kingdom. He was on the upper level. Roneon was built in the foothills. Several grand estates spanned the promontories. And the slums where I dwelled? In the lowest ditch. I remember one day I was walking along the sustaining wall that separated my neighbourhood from the upper town. I heard some laughter up above but didn't pay it any mind, until there was a clatter behind me. I turned around and there on the ground was a small leather pouch. Hanging over the fence were two silhouettes of men above.

"Now look what you've done!" One of them chided. I picked it up, hearing the unmistakable jangling of coins. Something like that could have gone far. I won't deny that I wanted to keep it. But those men saw me. So I called up to them.

"Meet me at the gate and I'll return this to you!" Although, it would have sounded more like... "Mee'me a'ther gate, guvs, 'n this'll be gain back t'yees!" in those days. But I will spare you the accent from my youth. They had no idea what I was saying and yelled after me when I scurried off to the closest gate. After I had waited by the gate long enough, one of them appeared. And that was Benold. I held his purse through the bars and he snatched it from me. He held it out like it was filthy, as if trying to decide whether he even wanted to put it back on his very fine belt. He did after some deliberation, lifted his nose, pivoted his heel, and stormed off.

I know, charming. But after a few steps he stopped, emptied the contents into his hand, and turned around. He asked me my name, and I told him. He thanked me, albeit begrudgingly, and left. I didn't see him again for some time.

Later on, I suppose he actually came looking for me. It took him a while and he clearly hated being in the slums. From what I gathered, he had a bet going with someone else in his circle that he could tame and polish one of the wild children that were running rampant through these streets. Understand, by then us street children had a reputation. Most were pretty savage. I was mugged or just beaten for fun by bigger, stronger kids. I was distrusted by adults and chased away from anyone's home or business. But I never had it in me to turn to thuggery, instead satisfying myself with begging for scraps.

I found myself a niche. For whatever reason, I almost never got sick. So I stayed close to those who were, as everyone was afraid of catching what they had. Which meant until they were dead, no one would mug them if they had the pox. So often I sat with them, talked with them, tried to make them comfortable. I held their hands as they died. And then, when they were dead, I stripped them of anything valuable. There were always rag and bottle shops that wouldn't ask questions.

So understand, I did not have a sheltered life. I was used to death and brutality. But I was also very open, and many believed me naïve. In some ways, I was. I can't explain it, but since it never occurred to me that things could be better, I never had the sense that I ought to be upset by my surroundings.

Well, Benold found me. He wanted me because of my honesty, to give him an edge in this bet. He told me I could be taken care of, given shelter, and food. I asked him if I would get to eat every day and his response, bless him, was puzzled. It was as if he didn't realise anyone could even survive not eating three meals a day. I was sold! I happily went with him. Since I never knew my birthday, I don't know what exact age I was. But I had started to... become a woman, but my transition wasn't quite complete. But due to my malnourishment, this wasn't very apparent. I think he believed I was younger than I was. It was to his embarrassment later when he found out otherwise, and he quickly arranged a chaperone to live with him in addition to his housekeeper. But, for all intents and purposes, I was his ward. And he would provide me with an education and turn me into a proper lady, intent on erasing any sign that I'd ever lived in the slums.

"So Benold was a great deal older than you," Baldovo observed.

"Yes," Trosyn responded, giving a light shrug.

"So you lived with him? Not in a separate apartment?" Volente asked.

"It depended. He had a country estate in a nearby valley, and a promontory townhouse in Roneon. When we were in town, he kept me in a hotel. Which I found very odd. When we were in the country, I stayed with him," Trosyn explained.

"You mentioned he was your mentor," Volente pointed out. "Was there anything he was training you in other than how to fit into society?"

"No, mostly just elocution, etiquette, and of course academics. He did try to teach me shooting, but after a few mishaps he abandoned that very quickly and forbade me to ever touch a gun again. Especially never his guns, as they were his babies."

"So you met because he wanted to tame a wild child, and you were his horse in a bet," Baldovo summarised. He leaned back and saw Colto approaching. Colto said nothing as he sat down in his usual spot, already with his pipe sticking out of his mouth. He sat down without ceremony, asked nothing, and nodded to his associates. Trosyn gave him a nod and a smile. He returned the nod, but not the smile.

"That is about right. I was a vanity project. I didn't really understand that, or care. I thought he was wonderful. Benold gave me shelter, food, and security. While he did nag and scold me, he never lay a hand on me. It was novel. I often braced myself to be hit, but it never came, and he seemed disturbed that I skulked and winced when I got something wrong, or when he raised his voice. And I could see him beam with pride when I told him how grateful I was, that he was a true gentleman. You could say I worshipped him, and he revelled in it. So we got along very well," Trosyn recounted. "They were such happy days. The days which I think he kept alluding to in our conversation. The days long past, when our relationship was new, innocent, and straightforward."

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"And by the time you were a slave, your relationship was none of those things," Baldovo remarked, shifting in his chair with a creak. Colto spewed out a stream of smoke and looked at Baldovo. Trosyn's throat muscles came into brief relief as she swallowed a lump forming. She was silent for a moment or two, and then nodded.

"No, there was nothing new, innocent, or straightforward by then."

"...Had he... I'm sorry it's indelicate to ask and I don't want details, but had he... taken advantage of you?" Volente asked, his trademark handkerchief already in his hand. Trosyn immediately shook her head.

"No. He did not. But he put me in the power of those who tried. And then refused to believe me when I begged him to make them stop." Trosyn leaned back in her chair, fingertips tapping gently at the edge of the table as she looked off, a faint smile drifting onto her face, crows feet deepening at the corners of her eyes. "Benold also nearly killed me once or twice. But that is neither here nor there."

Baldovo and Volente both gave each other side glances, bewildered why Trosyn would smile at such a statement. Colto rolled his pipe from one side of his mouth to the other. "Did Benold turn you out after his tantrum?"

"Ah, no. I suppose I ought to get back to that part of the story," Trosyn said, readjusting her mindscape.

I was terrified the next morning. But nothing was said. I was expecting to be packed off and sent back to the slave market, if I am honest. I was told I was not on patrol, and just to help in the kitchen. Benold was having guests, and they needed the extra help. I had heard the previous night that he was expecting esteemed guests, but it had gone out of my mind. I considered the lack of repercussions an oversight. But I was tense the whole time I worked on cleaning and prepping food.

While I was in the cellar grabbing some wine I heard someone come in. I thought it may be the butler, but I was shocked and mortified when I turned around - no it wasn't Benold. It was his cousin, Vormind. Vormind was a spendthrift who had gone criminal, but Benold was always using his influence and money to bail him out. Give me a moment.

Alright. Vormind is hard for me to talk about. He... did things to me... I can see Volente reaching for his smelling salts. Steady on. I won't go into detail. It doesn't matter what he did, just that it left me scarred and afraid of him. I wanted to scream but I wasn't sure if anyone would hear me, or care. I held the bottle of wine in my hands defensively as he slithered up to me, grinning. I tried to get around him, saying I had to get that wine to cook. But he wasn't accepting that and he pinned me. Don't worry, like I said, I won't share anything unsavoury with you gentlefolk. He told me that Benold didn't quite seem himself, and blamed me for it. I don't know what Benold said to him, if anything, about the previous night. But Vormind told me that my job was to keep Benold happy. If Benold was happy, he wouldn't have to come visit me again, to retrain me. He alluded to the 'good old times' we had. Then left.

His meaning and intentions were clear. I was very distressed, but I had work to do and threw myself into it to try not to think about it. After that, I refused to go anywhere alone. I always made sure I was in the company of at least one other servant until I'd heard that Benold's guests had left.

Once things had slowed down, I was left to worry over my uncertain future. But I do not enjoy sitting and worrying. So I went looking for work. Begging for work. And so I accompanied some of the maids. But it also meant I was made aware of the rumours already spreading through the household. Benold's shouting had been heard and repeated. It earned me the contempt of most of the staff. But they were undecided whether I ought to be scorned for being so haughty as to reject the master's advances, or smugly snubbed because Benold had angrily rejected mine. What is that saying... damned if you do, damned if you don't. I made note of who said what, but to them all I smiled and kept on working hard. To get upset or defensive would just fuel their imaginations. They were left perplexed when, as each day passed without me being sent away, I worked alongside them as cheerfully as I could. It didn't matter that I was falling apart inside. I had my smile, and it was always my greatest ally.

After a week of no more patrols and a lot of domestic work, I was notified that Benold wanted to see me in his study. So the time had come. My head was swimming and my heart was racing as I approached him. He stared at me very sternly, snapping a book shut. But then, to my bewilderment he apologised. He stated that, as a gentleman, his boorish behaviour was inexcusable, even to a slave. It was his duty to rise above and set an example for all. You can imagine he went on quite a bit in his self aggrandizing apology. But I patiently listened. When he was done, I told him I not only accepted his apology, but had one of my own. I spoke out of line, and understood if he did want to send me away. He told me he would do no such thing.

I was relieved. I was a little embarrassed, but very much so relieved. But I was bold enough to ask for the real reason he purchased me. He told me he was not ready to divulge that information. The fact he was avoiding telling me was saying a lot. It meant whatever it was, it was very personal. I hoped that he would assign me back to patrols, but it sadly was not the case. He said Mrs. Gray had good things to say about my domestic work, and so I was to be a house slave. While when I first arrived that was what I wanted, now that I had become the subject of scandal, I was less enthused. However, I had set a precedent, so I was going to continue to be the infatigable, smiling, simpering house slave.

There was the other matter of Vormind's visit. I asked who all had access to my room. He said himself and Mrs. Gray. I then asked him if I was to obey only him, or obey his guests as well. He told me of course I must obey his guests, unless it contradicts one of his own orders or rules. This did not leave me very comfortable. I finally asked him if I needed to obey Vormind. This gave him pause. In the past I had tried to tell him of Vormind's dealings with me, and he denied them. But there was an event later where he saw, first hand, what Vormind was capable of. And some of the bitterness that grew between Benold and myself is that he still did not cast Vormind out. They were still as thick as thieves. And it hurt to think he'd allow Vormind near me at all.

After some time to recollect, he told me he had told Vormind not to lay a hand on me, and if he did, I was to tell him straight away. I wasn't sure it would do any good, as it hadn't in the past. But it was better than having to pretend there was nothing wrong. But at least I could remind Vormind of Benold's edict, and perhaps, it would help. Perhaps, it would not. That remained to be seen.

Now I had to decide. How would I ensure my own survival in this situation? After accusing Benold of wanting me as a bedmate, it wouldn't be so simple to turn around and offer myself up. I didn't want to, either. While I had abandoned most of the dignity he had tried to instill in me, I had enough pride to not want to be some dirty secret, sneaking into his bedchamber and stumbling away in shame. But even with Benold's so-called protection, I worried Vormind would check up on me. So how to make Benold happy, but perhaps not in the way Vormind had in mind?

I recalled Benold's wistful allusions to the past. I could not go back to that. Not entirely. But I could recapture some of what used to work. So I turned to Benold and told him how grateful I was that he had bought me, that after hearing staff talk about what other slaves went through, I knew I was fortunate. I told him that even though he had behaved a little poorly, it was just the wine talking, and that he was the pinnacle of stateliness and chivalry. Maybe I was laying it on thick. But he soaked it up. Yes. All it took was to praise and worship him. And that I could do, despite the injuries that lay beneath the surface.

And so, despite the mishap on the balcony, things were looking up. But I was ever on guard against Vormind, should he return. And I was flattering Benold any chance I got. And as I stroked his ego, he gave me more and more chances. Soon he wouldn't have anyone but me serve him his meals. He'd often request me for other menial tasks in rooms he was in. He checked on me frequently. His demeanour towards me had softened a great deal. And maybe it was all an illusion. Maybe it was all nostalgia. But I was becoming comfortable. I was almost... enjoying being a slave.

I know, that sounds odd. But when I thought back to the crushing responsibilities I had taken upon myself during the war, it was freeing to have no responsibility at all. I had my duties, but if I failed in them, the only person who suffered was me. Because I was the bottom of the hierarchy, I had nothing I needed to prove. No one wanted my spot. No one was trying to take me down. And no one expected me to be anything I wasn't. I was smiling for real after a while. I enjoyed the hard work. I had enough food. I had a safe place to rest. And freedom? Well. Being a slave didn't take away my freedom, because that was something I'd never had.

"Never?" Colto asked, arching one of his thick, sculpted eyebrows. Trosyn shook her head.

"On the street I was a slave to hunger and desperation, and forbidden from leaving the slums. In Benold's care, when he first set out to gentle me, he did not want a half finished project being seen, so I was closely monitored, sheltered, and controlled. In the war, almost any act of individuality or thinking for myself was considered dereliction of duty best, treason at worst. After the war, I was on the run with my unit, and we could never stay anywhere long. And I was bound to my responsibility to them. I've never taken on a profession of my own choosing. Lived in a house of my own. Gone to a place because I just wanted to go. I was always in someone's control."

The three of the scientists were silent, each regarding Trosyn, and each thinking about the nature of freedom itself. Trosyn allowed them their time to digest. She got up, taking away dishes and fetched Colto a new receptacle for his ashes.

When Trosyn returned, Baldovo and Volente were staring at each other in a none too friendly way. Whatever it was that transpired between them in Trosyn's absence, Colto was staying clear out of it, as evidenced by his raised eyebrows, heavy lidded eyes, slack jaw, and body slightly turned away from them as he read from a stack of papers he had brought with him.

Trosyn noticed the tension, but elected to not remark on it as she sat back down. "Where was I?"

"Not minding being a slave," Colto said, his tone dry.

"Ah... yes. That. I won't bore you with the minutiae that followed this transformation from constant worrying about my security, to feeling quite secure. The rumours and scandal faded, as I had anticipated that they would if I didn't react to them. Some staff still gave me a hard time. Most were agreeably indifferent to me. One or two even took a shine to me. I wouldn't say we were ever friends, but on friendly enough terms. As far as I was concerned, I was a very lucky slave." Trosyn paused, noticing that Volente and Baldovo were still encouraging meaningful looks, seeming to be conducting a whole other conversation through body language and nuance. When Volente noticed her glancing at them, he cleared his throat.

"Well, it is late, that is probably enough for tonight. Really, I should be writing this all down. Would it be alright if next time I brought some paper and recorded notes on your story?" Volente asked, trying very hard to not look at Baldovo as he once again cleaned his spectacles.

"No, I do not mind. But if I tell you not to record something specific, please respect my wishes."

Volente nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes, of course, absolutely," he beamed. But his smile faded as he caught Baldovo's smirk. Volente looked down at his spectacles, cleaning them with increased vim.

"Well, good night, Red," Baldovo said, breaking his attention away from Volente. Baldovo rose and gave a mighty yawn and stretch. He then reached over, placing his hand on Volente's chair. "Time for us to retire."

Volente looked as though he were about to say something, but closed his mouth as though thinking better of it. He rose to his feet, giving Baldovo an irritated glower, to which Baldovo just smiled. Colto also got to his feet, snorting softly at the two other scientists.

"Well, Red, I guess you will have a lot on your mind if you've never had to make the decision of where to live and what to do before. Guess you'd better figure all that out before we reach Floratti," Baldovo remarked.

Trosyn frowned at him, his words hitting her with such accuracy as to her own anxieties that it was truly uncanny. She tried on a smile, but it vanished quickly. "Good night."