"Remove your hand at once." She hissed in her most imperious voice, and reclaimed her hand with her most scathing glare, snatching her arm away with a jerk. He released her and gave her a sinister look.
"Awfully proud for a slave girl." He sneered. "Someone needs to teach you some respect for your betters."
How dare he! She felt the color rise in her face but kept her mouth shut by clenching her jaw, knowing arguing with the likes of him was an ineffective use of her time. She wanted him out of her sight, and the fastest way to achieve that was to remove herself.
"If you'll excuse me, I'll fetch the servant for you."She picked up her water again and disappeared into the hall before he tried grabbing her again and found Demitri in the kitchen.
"There's some odious person in the cavern wanting to make a delivery. I presume you know what for." He nodded and looked at her curiously.
"Odious?"
"Yes. Kindly tell me where he'll be."
"Why?"
"So I can be elsewhere." She plopped onto one of the stools and glared at the table top.
Demitri said nothing and left. When he returned he was grinning.
"Doesn't sound like he liked you much either. Thought I should beat you for your impertinence."
"Why that..." the heat rose to her cheeks again and she suppressed her anger once more "... fool." She ended lamely. It wasn't the word she was going to say, but that wouldn't have been appropriate for a lady of good breeding and standing... or at least a former lady of standing. The feeling she'd had when she'd described herself as a slave returned again, pestering her.
She'd managed not to think about the previous night, and her little outburst, but that horses ass had brought it to the forefront of her mind once more. Well it hadn't been him really, but it pleased her to blame him nonetheless.
All day she'd busied herself as best she could, but now as she sat watching Demitri prepare the evening meal, she had nothing to do but think. Perhaps he was right, that she was upset that she was a slave, without power. Her reaction to describing herself as such supported the idea. Yet... something was still not quite right. As thought this were only a part of it, if that at all... but she couldn't tell what else it might be. His theory was the logical one. Perhaps if she just accepted it... then again, she'd thought she already had. She sighed inwardly and hoped silently that she hadn't irritated the master too much with her uncharacteristic simpering. He didn't like weeping and other such nonsense, and though he'd been sporting about it, she had no desire to push her luck.
She'd not seen him since, and had no idea what his mood might be. 'How could I tell anyway, I've only been here a couple of days,' she mused. She brooded over the table considering how it was she was going to solve the dilemma.
Demitri worked silently, ignoring her and letting her turn over her thoughts. When he finished and delivered his food to the dining room, she stirred herself as well and delivered her hot water next door.
She paused at the door to her new room on the way back on impulse, remembering the skimpy slave-girl clothing she'd found in the chest. A sudden burst of inspiration struck her and Calliope decided that it might be used to improve his mood if it truly did need improving. And who knows, she thought as she fingered a bit of golden, diaphanous fabric, maybe dressing the part might lend her a sense of acceptance and quash whatever silly unreasonable sensibility was gnawing away at her gut. She was here now, she was what she was, and that was that. There was no reason to waste more time in contemplation, and so she didn't.
The fabric was somewhat opaque at least, she noted once it was on, and it did cover the most embarrassing parts of her body modestly enough... though just barely. She blushed hotly looking down at the expansive slit cut between the valley of her breasts and part way down her stomach, the fabric meeting just above the navel only to cleave itself at the sides instead, making the material swish between her legs when she walked, exposing her legs to the hip. She ran the back of a hand down one long naked thigh, still smooth since the last time she'd used sugar gum on them, and felt shivering tentacles of sensation run along her leg to her groin. She unpinned her hair so that only the sides were pulled up and the rest floated down her back and over her shoulders.
If this doesn't make him happy, nothing will, she mused, and willed her self-consciousness into submission, as well as her burgeoning arousal. It would ruin the effect if she went around meekly blushing like a trembling little girl. She armed herself with a pitcher of wine from the kitchen and was just about to make her entrance when she paused at the door to slow her racing heart and overheard them talking.
"He said you should beat her, then she'd learn a thing or two." The words froze her in her tracks, it was Demitri's voice.
"Is that so."
"Indeed. Even offered to do it himself."
"Hm."
She steeled herself, her back straightening, and did her best impression of a mild, relaxed smile. Even if she was feeling anything but.
Demitri was sitting where she had sat her first night, and was pulling at a hunk of bread, which, she noted with satisfaction, froze in mid tear as she slid through the partially open door. Thelios held a glass of wine part way to his lips, and ever so slowly put it down as she calmly advanced offering the wine in her hands. She held the carafe aloft a few moments before he waved a decline. She smiled softly, doing her best not to give herself away as she felt his eyes graze her skin, setting her on fire wherever they lighted.
She turned away.
"Demitri?" She proffered the jug again. Very slowly he pushed his glass forward and she filled it, setting the jug on the table and stepping back, folding her hands before her with as demure a look as she could muster.
Thelios cleared his throat.
"Will you join us?" The thickness in his voice sent a wave of triumphant elation through her. She tried not to smile too much."Demitri tells me you made a new friend today." She may have been smiling but he wasn't. Her elation died a little. She adjusted herself on a cushion next to, but no too near, the master and gave Demitri a quick partially veiled look before clearing her own throat.
"If the Gods are kind, it will be a short acquaintance." She couldn't bring herself to look at the master, but Demitri was barely restraining a grin.