Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
It's strange. The more I am separated from my life on Praxii Minor, the more I'm realizing how alone I felt there. I had no friends, no companions, no mate, no one I could trust save Ubagrrresh, my steward. Even he kept me at arm's length, because his loyalty was more to my family than to me specifically. Risda III may be many things, but I have not been lonely here. Maeve has been a good friend to me. I think I have talked to her more than I have talked to any of my servants, or even Uba. She knows me more intimately than those that have been in my life for decades.
And we have not known each other for long, which tells me much about my life on Praxii Minor. While I miss the noisy crash of storms overhead and the scent of ozone in the air, I do not miss the sense of remoteness that came with my position. I was Heir and nothing more.
Here, I am not Heir. I am no one...and I'm learning that if I am not Heir, I must be Zhur. Who that is, I'm not entirely sure. I am learning, though. Day by day, I am becoming myself more. It's an odd realization for a fully grown male to have. I am learning that small things bring me joy, like the scent of meat in the skillet in the morning. Sleeping in late and having the day to make of it as I wish. Maeve's warm body wrapped around mine.
And...maintenance.
I do not know why, but I enjoy taking care of Maeve's things immensely. Finding something that is not working properly, learning what is wrong and then fixing it and watching it surge back to life, better than before? It gives me a sense of accomplishment. Maeve's barn machines are working optimally for the first time in a very long time, and I am proud of this. I will save her credits because of my work here. I want to go into the house and tear into her comm systems, her kitchen systems, to see what I can work on and improve. I like working with my hands. I like fixing small problems. I even like how the trough here in the barn gleams with cleanliness. The meat-stock might not appreciate it, but I do.
And because Maeve is not home and it is far too quiet, I go around the barn, testing the hinges of the stall doors. There are a few that are loose, and even more that squeal terribly when they are opened, and I get to work on making them better. I pull the first door off its hinges to see how everything fits together, and notice that there's a broken prong in the hinge. Something to fix. For some reason, this delights me. Humming to myself, I head to Maeve's small toolbox to see what I can use to fix the broken piece or replace it.
Just as I find a tool that looks as if it would suit my needs, Maeve bursts into the barn. She rushes in, a potted plant clutched in her hands and slams the door shut behind her. It creaks and gives a mighty groan, my ears perking at the possibility of working on it tomorrow. My human wife looks worried, her expression that of vermin caught in a trap.
She leans against the door, managing a smile. "Hypothetical question—what's our plan if someone finds out that you're here?"
"Has someone found out that I'm here?"
"No, that's why it's hypothetical." But she watches me with an intent gaze, waiting for my answer.
I set the tool down, considering. When I first arrived, my answer would have been one brought on by anger and humiliation. But a lot has happened in a short period of time, and I have had the opportunity to think. "Are you asking if I would fight them? Because I would not. Resisting would put you in danger, and I will not do such a thing. If I was found out, I would go quietly and peacefully with them, as long as it kept you safe."
Her expression goes soft. "Aw. You're sweet. Okay, here's another hypothetical. What if we had to kill people to keep your secret and thus protect both of us? How do we go about that?"
This feels...suspiciously specific. "Are we certain this is a hypothetical?"
Maeve manages a tight smile. "I'm not certain of anything anymore."
CHAPTER
EIGHTY-THREE
ZHUR
I do not like this look on Maeve's face. She is always pale and pasty looking, but I attribute that to her hairless human skin. Today, however, she is paler than usual, and there is no color in her lips. "What makes you ask about my...secret?" It feels better to call it that than to say it aloud, lest someone is spying. "Did someone say something in town?"