Pretty Human (Rags to Riches 4)

I want to be smug that he noticed I was gone, except there’s a real possibility he wants to yell at me for sleeping in his bed, just like he yelled at Nima for me being gone. Who knows what a spoiled lord wants, after all? I let Aldar take the boots from me, wipe my hands on the cloth he gives me to get the worst of the bootblack off, and then follow behind him, my overlarge shoes slapping against the pretty marble tile of the floor with every step I take.

It’s the longest journey back to the lord’s quarters, and I try to remember what they called him. Varrin? Varon? Something like that. I hope they say it again so I can memorize it. I need some bit of information to anchor myself to, some hint of knowledge that won’t leave me feeling so very lost, isolated and utterly alone.

Aldar knocks at the double door, and then enters a moment later, a firm hand on my shoulder. He goes inside and I catch a glimpse of my master—the tall, elegant one with the sweeping arch of horns—by the window. He turns, but before I can meet his eyes, Aldar is bowing at the waist and remains bent, his expression averted.

Oh, protocol. Shit. I mimic him, bowing deeply and staring at the floor. I figure someone will let me know when it’s okay to get up. When in doubt, go for boot-licking obedience, right?

A hand touches my shoulder, and then fingers curl around my chin. “Look at me, pretty human.”

That soothing, deep voice feels like a strange balm on my nerves. Suddenly I know he’s not going to yell at me for being in his bed. There’s too much patient affection in his voice. I straighten and give Lord Varrin/Varon/whoever a bright smile. “Good morning.”

His gaze—just as intense as I remembered—moves over my face and then stops. The expression in his eyes goes cold in an instant, and he touches the collar at my neck. “Who put this here?”

Oh shit. That is definitely the tone of someone about to get in trouble. It feels like the temperature in the room drops by several degrees. “They thought you would want it on me, since I’m your property.”

“‘They’?” he asks. “Who is ‘they’? Because ‘they’ are wrong.”

“I don’t know,” I say brightly, pretending ignorance, and decide to lie through my teeth. “Some guy in a yellow uniform. I’m sure he meant well. So we can take it off? I promise not to run. Like I said, I’ve got nowhere to go.”

He nods and flicks a hand at Aldar. “Remove it. It offends me.”

“Me too,” I say happily, and practically bounce to Aldar’s side.

The servant nods at his master. “Of course, Lord va’Rin.” He gives me another intense look, but there’s no hate or impatience in it. I think he’s trying to thank me. I’m going to take it as such anyhow. I just beam at him. We peons have to stick together, after all.

The collar’s off a moment later, and I rub my throat.

“Come here,” Lord va’Rin says, sitting down at a small, elegant table. “Aldar, is there enough breakfast for two? Milly will be hungry.”

My heart skips a stupid, stupid beat. I approach the table, careful not to sit down. “You remembered my name?”

The lord’s firm lips quirk. “You are the only human I have, after all.”

“Probably pretty glad about that one,” I can’t resist teasing. “I hear we’re a handful.”

Aldar clears his throat. “I will ask for more dishes to be sent up, my lord.”

“And tailors.”

“I beg pardon, my lord?” Aldar hesitates.

Lord va’Rin reaches for a sleeve of my tunic, clearly displeased. “She’s dressed like a servant, not my companion. I want new clothes for her, some appropriate for her size.”

“And shoes,” I whisper.

He glances down at my feet, and his hard mouth twitches again, as if he’s fighting so hard not to smile. “And shoes,” he says louder. “Tell them to bring an extensive catalog.”

“Of course, my lord.” Aldar bows again, and a moment later, I hear the doors close quietly. I’m alone with my owner.

Lord va’Rin. There’s a strange stop in the middle of his name I’m not entirely sure I can pronounce, but it’s a start. “I’m sorry if I made you upset,” I begin. “I woke up and didn’t know what to do, so I went to find other servants. They assumed I was…” What? A slave? A dog? “They put me to work,” I decide on tactfully. “I thought that’s what you would want.”

“I have dozens of servants with me. Why would I need one more?” He tilts his head, studying me, and his horns gleam in the sunlight. “You are my companion, Milly. I thought that was obvious from last night’s party.”

His companion? I lick my lips. “So, I’m gonna have to go for the obvious question and ask what it is you want from me.”