Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
The female nods and scurries away, returning a few moments later with a plate for my consort, as well as beverages. Melina settles her skirts around her as she sits, thanking the female again before focusing her attention on me.
When we're alone, I study her, thoughtful. She looks composed this morning. There's no sign of the flashing anger from last night, or the bitter resignation as she touched me. Her features are smooth and bland, as if she's trying her best to be the obedient doll she somehow thinks I want. "Thank you for breakfast."
I frown. "Why are you thanking me? As my consort, meals are your right."
"Are they?" She shrugs, the movement graceful. "I've learned to be thankful every time I have a full belly, since it doesn't happen all that often." She eyes her plate with interest. "I see you've been holding out on the fort."
"Holding out?"
Melina nods, spearing a piece of canned fruit. "You're eating better than everyone else. But let me guess, it's because you're in charge, right? And you should get special treatment?"
I narrow my eyes at her. She's right, but I have a feeling if I admit that, I'm somehow losing the battle of words, so I say nothing. I take a few careful bites of food, and when she begins to eat, the servant—Sylvia—approaches and gives Melina a cup of the foul-smelling coffee. That makes her brighten. She reaches for it immediately and thanks the female, pleasure on her face.
I decide to steer the conversation. "Why do you greet and thank the help? Is it not her purpose to serve? Why acknowledge it when she is simply doing her job?"
Melina frowns at me, cradling that cup of stinking hot liquid as if it's more precious than the gowns I gave her. "She's a person with feelings. Why wouldn't I greet her?"
"Why do her feelings matter? She is working a job in exchange for a bed to sleep in and food from my kitchens. She is protected because she chooses to serve. Why do you care what she thinks of her work, or of us?"
She sips her drink, closes her eyes in pleasure, and then takes another sip before setting it down. "Because how you treat your staff matters. Being kind and polite matters."
"Why?" I am genuinely curious as to why she thinks this.
Melina places her napkin on her lap, spreading it out, and picks up one of the pancakes on her plate. I confess I love the texture of them. They might be my favorite human food for their spongy sweetness, so unlike anything we had at home. Instead of using her fork, she picks it up with her fingers and nibbles on the edge. "I don’t know how to make you value being kind, so let’s try to put things in a way you’ll understand. Let's say you ignore her and only say something to her when you're in a bad mood. What if she gets fed up and leaves?"
I shrug, not really grasping why this is an issue. "Then she is a weak fool to value her feelings over safety and security."
Melina tilts her head at me, her expression exasperated. "Azar."
"What?" At her stare, I cast about for a different answer. I like that we are conversing like this. I like that she is challenging me. I might not agree with her perceptions of how the world should be, but I can still learn how she thinks and apply this to understanding other humans. "Fine. If she grew frustrated and left, I would…hire someone else to do her job, then."
She nods slowly, taking another bite of pancake. "And if that one left?"
"Hire another."
"And another," Melina says. "And another, and another, until you run out of people to serve you. Word will get around that it's a miserable job and no one will want to do it, and then you're going to find yourself with no one to put your plate in front of you and treat you like a king. Then what do you do?"
I would use my control over the drakoni and threaten them into serving me, but I don't say that aloud, because I know she won't like that answer.
"You're not going to serve yourself," Melina says in a gentle voice. "We both know that. Think of all the trouble this would create, though. When it could all be solved with one simple, polite word." At my silence, she gives me a prompting look. "Well?"
"If all it takes is one polite word to sway her, then she is a bigger fool than I imagined," I say, poking at my food with my fork.
Melina sighs heavily. "Forget it. I'm not sure why I bothered."
That makes me frown. I don't like that she has given up so easily. "I shall…take your advice into consideration," I tell her. "I am glad we spoke of this."