CHAPTER 41

Mia pinched at the dough of the little dumpling, attempting, and failing, to seal the seasoned meat inside. She hissed at it, frustrated that it would rather stick to her fingers than itself. She glowered at the five deformed lumps to her right. This was going to take forever.

Apparently, Topure was an old social construct. Sort of a life-debt kind of arrangement where the indebted became responsible for every aspect of the debt-holder's needs. Including preparing, serving, and cleaning up after their meals. It also included all aspects of caring for their person, keeping their living space clean, cleansing...sexual needs if the debt-holder so desired. A slave in all senses until the debt was paid. The lack of physical punishment for their women did not translate to anything better. Would Draven collect sexual favors? Even though that went against the promise of not being forced...of getting to choose? According to her new position, she had foregone her autonomy until her debt was paid.

The idea bounced around in her head, battling with thoughts of the Y'kil and the bodies of the men at the temple. Not to mention the looming evening meal where the other women, her friends, were to be sentenced for their own transgressions. Worse, she was the one who had to design their punishments and hand them out.

She pinched the dough again, her gut churning. God she'd really messed this up.

“Dampen the inside of the dough and then dry your fingers,” Chef suggested from behind her. His voice was surprisingly smooth and, under any other circumstance, she would no doubt love listening to it, but she'd spent the last two hours preparing bread and dumplings and vegetables for Draven's meal. The fact that the big man had made hundreds of the little morsels and wouldn't spare her enough for the Prime's meal proved what a masochist he really was. 'All elements need to be created by you alone. I'll not touch the Prime's food while you are his Topure.'

God, she really sucked at cooking though. Her cleaning skills had fared a little better, but it was several hours past the midday meal and Mia was exhausted. Maybe she hadn't quite recovered from the false illness as much as she had thought. She hadn't even seen Draven. After their little discussion, which could hardly be called that, since it was pretty much entirely one-sided, he had instructed her to rest for the afternoon and night and that her duties would begin the next morning. Then he'd locked her in the room. Where he spent the night she didn't know, but this morning he had already been gone from the compound when she awoke, a tiger lily on the pillow beside her. She'd thought it was sweet until she discovered the string of Livarians to guard and instruct her on her new duties. She'd found no mercy from the aliens. None.

Draven's room was spotless, his clothes were cleaned and folded neatly in his cubby. Later, after his return, Gorth was assigned to show her how to attend the armor.

None of these things bothered her that much, but the evening duties…the personal duties…

Her gut clenched again, whether it was in dread or anticipation...oh, who was she kidding? She wanted Draven. She would have given him everything the night before in the shower. But after rescuing her, coming for her like some hero in an old tale, he had only been concerned about her well-being. That, if nothing else, indicated what sort of man he was. She'd never met a man so intent on caring for her. It pulled on her emotions, some deeper need she had shoved down and ignored. She mashed the dumpling. That really should have factored a little more into her choices the day before.

“You're killing it, woman,” Chef grumped. “It's a delicate thing. You can’t just be smashing...look that's probably enough dumplings for the Prime, anyway. Why don't you remove his bread from the oven?”

Mia happily dropped the last, very misshapen dumpling onto her pile and washed her fingers.

Fortunately, the bread had turned out better. It wasn't as smooth and flawless as the other loaves that littered the kitchen counters, but it smelled amazing as she pulled it from the oven and set it on a special rack for cooling. The fresh salad was waiting. All that was left was to cook the dumplings right before Draven ate.

“You are passing judgment this night. You should go prepare yourself,” Chef told her. “Nortuk will help you.”

Mia sighed and moved to the wash station to clean her hands. He was trying to get rid of her. She didn't blame him, either. Chef ran a highly efficient kitchen, and she was smack dab in the middle of it making a mess. Hands clean, she made her way to the kitchen door. The large cooking space sat at the back of the dining hall. There were signs that the big room hadn't always been used thus, the large burners that functioned as stove-tops didn't fit quite right in their spaces, and the cooling cupboards were placed intermittently throughout. She had spent several minutes when Chef had first tasked her with mixing dough for bread trying to figure out what the building had once been.

“Mia?” Chef asked before she pushed the open button. She looked over her shoulder.

“I do not recommend leniency.”

“What?”

“In your judgment this evening. Leniency will save neither them nor you. Livarians respect taking full responsibility for our mistakes. If you do not assign your women significant enough consequences the Prime will. He has enough trouble for the time being.”

Mia narrowed her eyes at him, not liking his unsolicited advice

“You would not like the Prime's solution,” he told her.

Great. Because she didn't have enough to worry about. She jabbed the panel and the door slid open. Nortuk waited outside the door. He nodded before he led her away, the look of compassion on his face anything but reassuring.

Mia stood behind the head table, just to Draven's right, as she had been directed. She had placed his food before him, poured him a large glass of ice water and waited. To his credit, he hadn't looked askance at the misshapen dumplings, three of which were empty shells because Mia had failed to seal them well enough and their filling had boiled away, or the bread that was a little lopsided.

Tension filled the meal hall. The women's eyes kept landing on Mia, standing to Draven's side, some with curiosity and some with worry. She had to consciously work at not looking at Leanne. Any other day, she could handle the woman's childish posturing, but today she wanted to smother the smug sneer right off the woman's face.

A disembodied chime sounded, somehow coming from everywhere and nowhere in particular. The room silenced and the attention turned fully to the head table. She was going to be sick.

The doors at the front of the hall opened and the three women who had been missing were led forward. Becky looked as though she wanted to crawl beneath the floor. Her hair fell forward to cover her face, but the little bits that were visible were red. Ashley, on the other hand, did not appear too put out. She followed the Livarians easily, meeting the eyes of those that dared to land on her. Phoebe was furious.

Crap. She really wasn't going to salvage this.

“As is law here on Callaphria, when actions are taken that affect those around us, we owe a debt to society. Some of you have already learned this lesson, and some are still learning it. Recently, several of your number have behaved in a way that easily might have affected us all. For this reason, these women are before us for judgment. The charges stand thus: first, tampering with the energy shield that protects the compound, placing every life in this room in danger.”

There was a low muttering from several of the tables.

“Second: attempted subterfuge and wasted energy and time of several of our units. Again, taking resources from where they are truly needed. Third, destruction and loss of property.” He paused and took in the room. Nervous energy hummed through Mia, it felt as if she might explode at any moment.

“As is fitting, the leader of the escapade will mete out punishment. She, herself, has been designated as Topure until her debt is paid,” he gestured indicating where Mia stood and then, suddenly, all eyes were on her. She took a deep breath. Too bad this wasn't as easy as speaking in front of the classroom. Public speaking was bad enough...public speaking while one was in trouble...

“Though our actions...,” she began, before nerves stole her voice. She coughed to clear her throat. “Though my actions were not against anyone here, not intentionally, it has been brought to my attention that they might have caused harm, if circumstance were different.” Mia had thought long about what she was going to say tonight. At first, angry with the decree that she would be responsible for sentencing, she had planned to use the moment to tell the whole compound what a colossal jerk Draven was. That fantasy had lasted all of five minutes. He would shut her down before she got started. Besides, it had been a dumb choice. Accepting it was the adult thing to do. “I accept responsibility for this, for all of it. My decisions might have affected us all, but have affected these women, my friends.” She wondered if any of them wanted to call her that any longer. “As their biggest mistake was following my guidance in this dividing path, their punishment will be guiding all of us in another.” Mia wiggled her fingers, and she knew a holograph sprung to life behind her. Draven turned, his eyes widening in surprise. It had taken all day and the cooperation of her guards to plan out her little speech and enlist the help of the Livarian who had done the orientation. The image was a building near the edge of the compound, one that Draven had pointed out to her the first time they met. She had explored it once but found it empty of anything indicating life. She had promptly forgotten about it, uninterested in anything that wouldn't take them home, until Phoebe had chosen one of the men, until she'd become caught up in the trials of the Livarians, in wanting to protect what they had tried so desperately to build.

“I sentence these three, as well as myself, to this. A learning center for both our people. Or, it will be. One with access to this world's technology, to learn wisdom, and practical skills, and to remember Earth and our own culture and bring it here for the Livarians to learn. If women from Earth are to be part of this society, then our memories and traditions and cultures need to meet in the middle.”

The three women looked at Mia. Their expressions were hard to read, but she thought she saw relief, and maybe some interest. Draven had schooled his features into neutrality, but as the hologram faded and she took her place back behind his right shoulder, he tilted his head slightly.

“Well done."