“Nothing!” She snapped, then closed her eyes with an internal reprimand. He was only being concerned, she needed to calm down. “I’m sorry… nothing,” she repeated softly, “I’m just a little anxious about this trip and what’s expected of me. If I knew more about what to expect, I would be more comfortable.” He looked at her a moment, then nodded.
“Well, Ok. Look, I honestly don’t know what he’s expecting, but I doubt it’s much.”
She cocked a brow at that. “I hope that’s not a comment on my abilities.” She murmured dryly.
He grinned again. “Hardly. You know what I mean. He doesn’t need much attention, and he ain’t fussy like some other masters might be, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Way I see it, he’s taking you, not someone else, so just… be you… and quit your damned fretting.”
“Be me? That’s you brilliant advice?”
“Don’t know what to say girl. If you can’t manage that, you’ve got bigger issues to worry about.”
She rolled her eyes, but sighed in defeat just the same. “I know what you’re saying Demitri, but I guess I also know it’s not going to be like it is at home. There it’s just the three of us, and here there will be so very many others to deal with. Most households have strict hierarchies and I don’t want to mistake my position in front of these people. It would be embarrassing for me, and worse yet, I might embarrass Th-our master.” She bit her lip at the near slip. It had been re-emphasized to her by Thelios that she wasn’t to use his name, lest it be overheard. She rarely used it as it was… and when she did it was when they were alone together. But occasionally it threatened to slip out… as it had just had.
He nodded in return, not acknowledging the slip if he had noticed it. “I catch your meaning as well. But I haven’t an answer for you other than that you’re best to stick with what you’re used to. You were a lady, weren’t you? Fine born and all that?” He asked, suddenly, it seemed to her, shifting topics. She nodded uncertainly.
“I was born into a wealthy family whose name was of some repute, yes.”
“Don’t get all stuffy on me now.” She smiled despite herself. “Any rate, you were born a lady, and from what I’ve seen you’re more or less lady of the house… or cave rather, with us, and that seems to suit everyone just fine. You do what needs doing without being told or asked, and are apparently quite happy to get bossy with us when you think its proper, and you don’t hear us complaining ’bout that… tempting as it sometimes is.” He grinned lopsided at her before continuing. “So stick with that. Don’t go getting all shy and strange just because we’re moving venues for a stint.”
She frowned at his words. “Isn’t that presumptuous of me though? I had no idea I was behaving so inappropriately. I… I just don’t know how a slave is suppose to behave.”
“So what? And so what if is it presumptuous? Presume away. It’s worked for you so far.”
She laughed. “I am, as always, awed by your feats of logic. But, the problem I’d like to point out with your suggestion is that no one else but you two nere-do-wells would let me get away with the liberties I’ve taken… and no one would take me seriously in the role if I tried.”
“Says who?
“I just know.”
“Well you’re right then. They won’t if you don’t go in believing it yourself. They have no reason to think otherwise so long as you don’t make them.”
“Fake it until you are it?” She offered with a smirk.
“Who said anything about faking it?”
She sobered and watched his face for the joke… but he remained serious. “We both know I’m just a slave Demitri.” She offered softly after a brief and unproductive stare off.
“Are you?”
She pursed her lips, not sure what he was trying to get at. “Yes… aren’t I?” He smirked at the sudden hesitation in her voice, and she narrowed her eyes at him in response.
“If you say so.” He shrugged and leaned back against the crate, resting his hands behind his head, and very deftly ignoring her steady glare buy turning his face to the sky and closing his eyes.
“You, sir, are impossible.”
“You know it occurs to me,” he began lightly, “that you’re the one fixated on names and labels…’I’m just the help’ sounds a little like an excuse to me.”
“For what?” she challenged.
“You tell me.”
“I swear to the gods and all that’s divine, I am going to throttle you in two seconds Demitri.”
He laughed out loud. “Well at least you’re sounding a little more like yourself again.” He cracked an eye and nodded to her food. “You should eat something, if you don’t you might insult the cook.”
She followed his gaze and crinkled her nose. “I’m not feeling all that well.”
“Sea sick?”
She made an uninterpretable sound… even to her own ears, and Demitri looked more carefully at her. “Other kind of sick?”
She shrugged. “Probably just the sea.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
She sighed and looked away, poking once more at her fish. “Does it matter?”
“Could. If it’ll make anyone else sick.”
She rolled her eyes. Maybe they did think she was the plague after all. “Trust me,” she murmured sardonically, “you’re all very safe.” She looked up to find him looking back at her… hard.
“What?” She was suddenly nervous and shifted under the gaze which had turned so piercing.
“You’re pregnant.” The words came out as a low statement, and his gaze never wavered.
She gaped. “H-What?”
“You heard me.”
“I-”
“Does he know?”