Chapter 27

Mia looked at the room around her.

Well...that wouldn't do.

She pushed herself back from the table, to the surprise of her table partners, and many of the women surrounding them. Gorth's eyes narrowed and the other Livarians stopped what they were saying to watch her warily. The leader, the one who had put the rebellion to sleep, literally, pulled out his light tool.

Mia didn't pause, she strode forward with grim determination toward the overturned table, frowning down at the waste before her. The room was silent, every eye on her. She turned and looked at the remaining women. More than half, she would guess. She hadn't had a chance to meet most of them, but she felt relief that Leanne's poison had not reached too far yet.

“I didn't choose to be here,” she told them, meeting as many eyes as she could. “Not one of us chose to be here. We didn't have a choice in coming and many of the choices we are used to having have been stripped away.”

There was a warning noise from Gorth's corner, but Mia ignored it.

“I haven't chosen my circumstances, but I can choose what it makes me become. Just because things are not within my control, doesn't mean I get to throw a tantrum. This kind of behavior is disgusting and useless. It doesn't help anyone.” She paused and took a deep breath.

“They said anyone against them is a traitor, a word that they have, apparently, already labeled me with. Well, I would rather be seen as a traitor to them,” she flung her hand toward the door, “than to be a true traitor to myself. You should all consider what that means to you.”

With that, she turned and knelt, gathering up the broken plates and cups. Moments later, several pairs of feminine hands joined hers. It was like the women had been waiting for permission to act like decent human beings. She nearly growled at them, but managed to keep her thoughts to herself. It wasn't their fault, not really. She could keep the blame for this where it truly belonged, on Leanne and her group's shoulders. More hands joined the clean-up and Mia looked at the women surrounding her; they looked back, smiling tentatively.

Mia glanced over her shoulder to see the Livarians watching them, baffled looks on their faces. The leader for the evening still had his light tool dangling from his fingers, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, as if he didn't know whether or not to protest.

She giggled. Phoebe looked up from the crowd and caught the direction of her attention; she snorted on a chuckle, as well. Soon, most of the women were holding back laughter, alternatively cleaning what they could with their bare hands and watching the men's distressed expressions at the sight.

“This would be easier for us if you would allow us tools to do the job properly. Some rags and a place to put the broken bits would be appreciated. Maybe some soapy water?”

Finally, the leader broke his frozen stance and strode over to where the women labored.

“This is unnecessary.” It was strange to watch the big man who had just rendered nearly twenty women unconscious not know what to do with himself. He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Please, the kitchen team will attend to this.”

Mia rose. She wanted to put her hands on her hips, but she had done a decent job of keeping the red sauce from her clothes.

“You would be highly unwise to reject our help at this point.” She raised a brow at him. “Just get us the cleaning stuff we need.”

He opened his mouth as if to protest.

“Leave it Jerric, that one is as stubborn as they come.” Kenahi stepped through the door. His eyes were hard, taking in the damage, but they softened somewhat at the sight of the women attending the problem.

“Get them what they need. If they'd like to help, then we would appreciate it very much. They aren't to be treated, I'm told, like favored pets.”

Mia glanced at Gorth. Yup, the little smirk on his face indicated that he had, indeed, shared their conversation. Gossiping biddies, the lot of them.

The door to the kitchen opened then, and a Livarian stepped out. Mia gaped at him for a moment. He was the largest man she had ever seen, bigger even than Gorth. Tall, and broad, he looked as if he could take several smaller men and snap them like twigs at any moment. He scanned the room, taking in the Livarians gathered at the door and the mostly empty tables littered with untouched food. When he noticed the upturned table and the mess on the floor, his face fell.

The chef, Mia suspected.

There was a commotion at the door, and several men entered at once. Mia was relieved to see Draven at their head. His face was closed down, but his eyes were hard. Was he upset about the scene in the hall? Or had something more serious caused that expression? He, like the others, studied the situation first, his eyes coming to rest on Mia, a hint of alarm crossing his face at the sight of her reddened hands.

“What happened here?” he demanded.

“There was an incident with some of the women, Prime,” the leader of the night bowed his head slightly.

One of the men approached, he carted a wheeled apparatus filled with what looked to be cleaning supplies. She hadn't even seen him leave the room. Well, she wasn't about to stand around while others did their part. Mia put Draven out of her mind and grabbed the first things she could, a rag and bucket of hot soapy water. She knelt down and began wiping the floor. Two of the other women had gently turned the table back over and put it back in its place among the others. They grabbed cloths, as well, and began wiping it down. A bucket was brought out for the shattered pieces of glassware.

It was quick and almost therapeutic, working with the others, finally doing something, even cleaning, after weeks of being stagnant. She put all her effort into it until hands hauled her upright.

“Hey,” she muttered, pulling away from Draven.

He shook his head. “You will not dishonor us by slipping into a servant roll, we have worked to ensure that women do not fill those duties.”

The other women paused in their cleaning, watching the interaction keenly.

Stupid, stubborn Livarian.

“Yes, it seems like you have made sure there's no duties for us at all,” she told him. “It's stifling.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched.

“This needs to be done. We are doing it. There's no reason for this night to end with such crap.”

She turned back to the mess, only to find her way blocked as the night's leader stepped between her and it. The other women were being encouraged to get up and return to their seats. It didn't really matter, as they had cleaned up most of the mess, and their point, that they were unlike the other women, was made anyway. But it irritated her none the less. Didn't he understand that this had been a sign of support to the Livarians? Why would he take that away?

“We will discuss this, along with other matters, elsewhere,” Draven said to her back.

Mia ignored him and stepped around the mess. Well, tried to, anyway. The other men blocked her.

“Mia,” Draven warned.

She tried twice more, ineffectually, and then stood for a long moment, facing away from him. Stubborn man.

“Come,” he said at last. The leader not so subtly fingered his light tool.

She didn't have a choice, not really.

“I haven't eaten,” she complained.

“It will be taken care of. Join me now.”

Mia sighed and turned, but she refused to meet his eyes. That didn't seem to matter much as he strode out the door and into the night.