Chapter 15

AVA

Time seems to pass by in a way that feels quick but also very, very slow. I start eating all my meals in the kitchen with Olean, enjoying his company despite his intimidating demeanor.

He managed to get me paper before the end of the first day as well as some colored sticks that are a cross between a crayon and chalk. The paper is thick and heavy and feels homemade but is perfect for sketching.

Between meals, I take up my spot in the armchair in the front room to watch the soldiers training in the courtyard each day, making sketches of the most fascinating of the aliens I see.

I discover there is a grand total of one book in English in the library, tucked on the end of a top shelf—an extremely worn leather-bound copy of ~Alice in Wonderland~ with intricate and colorful illustrations.

I can’t help but feel a twinge of irony at the selection, since I certainly feel as if I have fallen down my own rabbit hole of craziness. But after my first time reading it, I decide to bind my loose sketches into their own crude book.

I take it a step further to create my own little encyclopedia by asking Olean about the species I’ve already drawn. It’s a strange mix of normalcy and nature watching.

Though I watch him keenly on the training grounds each day, I see Koza only once in person.

On my third day at the house, the local tailor arrives, introducing himself as Georgick. He drapes me in gauzy and pastel fabrics while I stand on a stool in my bedroom. I absently listen to him tutting about hemlines and sleeves.

He is the same leprechaun-like race as Stoponi from the auction house, complete with the same pointy and creepy, creepy teeth. Bluntness is also apparently a trait of their kind because he has a lot of vaguely insulting things to say about the inconvenience of working around my boobs. I am clearly his first human customer.

When I ask about getting a pair of pants that are more breathable than leather and a shirt more tailored to my female body, he looks at me like I have grown a second head.

After an infuriating battle of wills between the two of us, Koza is summoned to weigh in on the matter, much to my embarrassment.

He barely enters my room, listening to the tailor admonish the inappropriateness of my request from the doorway. His amber gaze trails up from my feet, over my body where a light seafoam-green fabric is loosely pinned around me before meeting my eyes. I swear a surge of heat flashes in them before he breaks my gaze. Turning to Georgick hovering at my feet, Koza tells him to make whatever I wanted before stalking out of the room.

The finished wardrobe arrives just two days later, the general apparently important enough to merit a rush.

For the first couple days, I wear the new and improved shirt and pants simply out of spite. Eventually, I reluctantly try on one of the many light, flowy dresses and have to admit it’s quite comfortable and flattering.

~Also, opaque.~

I made that preference VERY clear.

I try not to take offense that it feels like Koza is avoiding me, just like he did on the ship while we traveled. Finally, after two weeks of being housebound, I work up the courage during lunch to ask Olean about the possibility of visiting the civilian town and market nearby.

He eyes me in a way that makes me feel like he was just waiting to see how long it would take me to ask.

“I will speak to the general about it this evening. He will want to personally choose which guards accompany you, but it should be possible in the morning.”

I wake up early the next morning, jittery with a mix of nerves and excitement at the prospect of leaving the house. I can only read the same book so many times back-to-back.

I pull the plainest dress out of the wardrobe. It’s made of a light-gray fabric with no pleats or adornments, with sleeves just past my elbows and a rounded neckline that shows off nothing.

The best part of my new wardrobe is that I finally own some shoes again, even if it’s only two pairs. But to me, those two pairs feel like an embarrassment of riches. I pull out the soft black leather flats that are the simpler of the two and slip them on my feet with a happy sigh.

I practically bounce into the kitchen where Olean is finishing his breakfast preparation. Pulling myself onto my usual stool at the counter, I drum my fingers impatiently on the smooth surface.

He turns to me with his now familiar toothy grin, sliding my plate of breakfast in front of me and turning back to the stove. “Excited about the market, eh, girl?”

“The general said I could go?” I ask eagerly, shoveling a spoonful of sweet porridge in my mouth.

“The general did, indeed,” comes a rumbling voice behind me. I nearly choke on my breakfast as Koza lowers himself onto the stool beside me.

Olean sets the general’s breakfast on the counter as if this is a completely normal occurrence, even though Koza has not eaten a single meal in the kitchen with us since I’ve been here.

Koza ignores the food in front of him, instead turning to me. I set down my spoon and shift toward him, giving him my full attention.

“Two of my men will accompany you. They are young but have been with me since they were old enough to hold a blade, and I trust them implicitly. Anything you wish to purchase just tell them to charge to my account,” he tells me.

I push down the disappointment of being assigned strangers to show me around, but I know the general is a busy guy.

“Oh no,” I try to reassure him. “I just want to look around, take in the sights, I don’t plan to buy anything.”

“Ava,” he drawls, stringing out my name in that unique way of his. “I am well compensated by the High Commander. You may as well spend his money to make yourself happy here. I have little use of it, I assure you.”

I don’t want to argue with him, so I simply make a non-committal noise.

“Just one more thing,” he states, and my excitement about the market surges again.

He unhooks something from his belt and reaches toward me. In his hand is a collar that is thinner, but too similar to the shock collars they made us wear in the market. I recoil backward with a shudder, barely keeping my balance on the stool.

He immediately drops his hands into his lap, eyeing me with a look that seems enough like pity that it makes me reposition myself on the stool with a scowl.

“It is not active,” he assures me gently, placing a hand on my knee hesitantly. “It is only to keep you safe. The collar shows you are already spoken for and bears my mark.”

“I didn’t need one when we walked together from the ship,” the words are small as they tumble out of my mouth.

Koza freezes, and for a heartbeat I’m certain I’ve offended him. My fear runs away with me, convincing me that to deny the collar will mean my trip is canceled.

“I understand,” I tell him, forcing myself to seem relaxed. But the thought of wearing a collar again brings back dark memories I thought I left behind weeks ago.

He slowly lifts the collar, and as it clicks around my neck, I can’t help the shudder that runs down my spine. I tell myself over and over that he didn’t want a slave, that I’m safe with him. But the weight of the collar haunts me.

His warm fingers rest against my neck for a moment, his fingertips trailing down across my shoulders. I grab his hand, squeezing it as I steady myself and hold his amber gaze. The regret in his eyes calms me a bit. At least he doesn’t like this anymore than I do.

He clears his throat sharply, gently pulling his hand from mine and tucking into his breakfast. I follow his lead, shoveling bites into my mouth in a completely unladylike manner.

GENERAL KOZA

When Olean told me Ava wanted to attend the market my immediate instinct was to deny her the outing. Even knowing it was an unreasonable reaction, I could not help the possessiveness that overtook me. Humans are highly coveted, and my concern for her threatened to drown me.

But I promised she would not be a prisoner here, and I intend to keep my word despite the overwhelming urge I feel to hide her away.

Despite my upbringing with no parental influence, I have long been aware that those of my race tend to form deep romantic attachments. It is the reason I have always avoided the brothels and pleasure slaves that congregated around the military bases of my youth.

One taste of Ava has awakened all the unreasonable possessiveness of my kind, which is why I have done everything possible to avoid her presence since she settled into my home.

Her shudder of fear as the collar closes around her neck makes me grit my teeth, but I force my stance into one that appears relaxed as I assure her it is not an active version of the device.

She departed for the market right after breakfast, trailed by the two soldiers I assigned to protect her.

I have been in my office since, attempting to answer a buildup of correspondence that has accumulated since Ava’s arrival and my intentional avoidance of the house. I try not to focus on her sweet smell still teasing my nose from my proximity to her during the morning meal.