Another woman, no doubt seeing how amusing the Host found this, and not to be outdone, pipped up as well. “That is it exactly! And to add besides, what have we women to do with honor,” she pouted prettily, “since we cannot fight for it as men do?” Then added, looking slyly to the others, “And since what little we are born with is such an easy thing to lose.”
“Yes, a fruit so easily plucked.” Quipped another.
They laughed. “Or pricked. As it takes just a little nudge from the daintiest prick, and it is gone.” Agreed Anahita, to their continued amusement.
“So you see, it is a light thing.” Penelope finished with a pleased smile and airy gesture.
The Host chuckled and turned back to Calliope. “Are you convinced?”
She sighed mentally and gave him a mild smile. “I suppose I must stand down before such a united front. I yield…”
He opened his mouth to speak, and she quickly added, “In theory at least, if not in practice.”
His mouth twitched into a frown for a half-second before manufacturing another smile. “Well… I suppose that is the best we can do… for now.” He offered with a shrewd glance, then turned a warmer smile on the other ladies. “Perhaps if you ladies continue your siege, you will yet break her down.”
“We shall do our best, lord.” Penelope chimed. He nodded to Penelope, and then Calliope with another, more gracious smile.
She couldn’t find a voice to speak with, or words worth saying, so she merely bowed again and watched him go. He left behind him a sense of dread that hung over her shoulders, as heavy and stifling as a woolen rug. She hated how discomfited he’d made her feel.
“Really Calliope, you should be more careful.” Chided Penelope. “Your master may not be fond of him, but you won’t help matters by being so stiff and awful.”
She blinked. “I was perfectly polite.”
Penelope rolled her eyes again. “Well, your supposed good breeding did very little to hide your contempt.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” She hedged, noting the sardonic look in Penelope’s eye. She knew full well, obviously… but truth be told had no real desire to disguise it, even if it was in her best interests. The looks she received from the other women varied from person to person, ranging from amusement, to the very contempt Penelope spoke of.
“But perhaps I should take my leave of you as it is.” Calliope didn’t wait to be excused and gave them a brief half-bow. “Good day to you all.”
**
“Good evening Master.”
Calliope was standing in the bedroom, lost in thought, when she heard the door open behind her. He entered silently, but she somehow knew who it was.
He returned her greeting with a grunt.
“I filled the bath if you like.”
Another guttural sound of… not quite annoyance, but not pleasure either.
She ran a hand over her stomach. The movement was becoming something of a habit.
“Did you know Demitri had children?” she murmured as a large shadow encroached on the edge of her vision.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” She turned toward the flash of silver-grey which appeared in the corner of her eye. She had to tilt her head back to look up into his eyes as he loomed over her. His gaze was directed, pointedly, at the placement of her hands over her belly. She felt a twinge, but left them where they were.
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. He just told me about it. It… it’s very sad. How many did he have?”
“Three, I think. He doesn’t like to talk about it. Unsurprisingly.”
“Do…” She trailed off, uncertain.
“What?”
She shook her head. She was thinking nonsense. Being pregnant really was making her daft and sentimental.
He sighed. “I hate it when you do that. Spit it out. What were you going to say?”
“I honestly don’t even know. I was speaking before the thought was fully formed. I’m just… fretting is all.”
“About what?”
“Everything… apparently.” She muttered despondently.
He chuckled. “Don’t.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Consider it an order.”
She half-rolled her eyes. “Yes, Master. Your every wish is my command.”
He smirked. “Don’t get smart.”
“Why whatever do you mean, my Lord?”
She let out a surprised yelp as he passed behind her to the bath, smacking her rear lightly as he did.
She turned in order to give him a put out glare, but he was facing away as he stepped into the bath. The glare would have been wasted, so she didn’t bother.
Instead she found herself watching him-examining the broad expanse of his heavy shoulders, the long swathes of muscle along his back and sides… the way the faint wisps of steam were licking up around his thick calves as he stepped into the water. Her eyes followed where it collected along the thigh and the hard planes of his flexing…
She flushed and turned away, her hand instinctively brushing her neck, as if expecting to find similar droplets of steam there as well.
When she glanced back he was seated with his elbows propped casually along the baths edge and had turned his head to look back at her. He wasn’t grinning like a wolf, so she could only assume that he hadn’t seen her staring.
He turned away. “Join me.” He commanded gruffly. Always so demanding. She suppressed her smile.
She arched a brow at the back of his head. “I’m busy.” She returned lightly.
He snorted. “Doing what?”
“Things. Things and… stuff.” She knew he could hear the teasing smile in her voice. She certainly could. She reached up and unpinned the knot at the back of her head, uncoiling the braid and slowly tugging it loose through her fingers.
“Horseshit.” He still didn’t turn around, but he lifted a hand to wave her over. She obliged and sat on the wide ledge surrounding of the bath, still loosening her dark curls.
“You beckoned, Master?”