She waves her hand. “You can be the bastard son of some giant commoner.”
I curl my lip. “There is no cursed giant blood in my body.”
She rolls her eyes. “Who cares if you do or don’t? It will solve the mystery of your height. Being part giant is rare, but half-giants make excellent workers.”
I think of my father. He hated the giants just as much as any Enduar, as did Tirin. Would playing such a role hurt either of them if they were still living?
“I don’t like it.”
“Ra’Sa,” Melisa says, tone serious. Her foot brushes my leg, and every thought swirls straight out of my head. “You will need to find work as a slave somewhere close by while I’m tending to Eneko. That’s how you’ll blend in.”
Something ugly curls around my heart.
“Tending to Eneko…” I repeat. “What exactly will that entail?”
She snatches her foot back.
“Please, I’m not trying to be cruel.” This question is borne of something much more petty: jealousy.
She looks at me. “Eneko only talks after a good fuck. So that is what I will give him, as many times as it takes to find out all the things your king needs to know.”
Dread twists in my gut, but I push it down. A man should know how to deal with the harsher truths of life. And she clearly doesn’t want sympathy. She just continues to eat.
“So, we will arrive in two days. Likely from the north. What is our plan?” I ask, wanting to keep her talking.
Her eyes search the snowy forest as she grabs another piece of meat.
“Arriving from that direction means that we will get to the northeastern lumber yards. That’s where Eneko is a foreman. Though, he’s not the only one, of course.”
“I assume you know exactly where to go?”
She flashes me a smile. “Naturally. Now, when we arrive, I had better do something to gain his sympathy, or I’ll spend a week in the pit.”
“The pit?” I repeat.
She nods. “It’s one of the other torturous ways we deal with things in the northeastern lumber yards. Whipping is useful for slaves with active jobs like healing, chopping, or cooking. Those with more passive jobs are sent to the pit, sometimes without food or water.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because if you cover a comfort woman’s back with open wounds, she can’t lie down. Starve her, and she’ll be lethargic, to be sure, but she’ll still be good for a rut.”
I recoil. “Why the hell would you say it like that?”
“Because it’s true. It’s not like I have a choice in such matters.”
The truth settles between us like the snow settles on the ground.
“I—”
“I don’t need your pity, troll. There are worse masters than Eneko,” Melisa bites out, tossing her bones in the embers and standing. “Now, I’d like to continue.”
My mouth falls open with unspoken words. I want to offer her comfort, but I don’t know where to begin.
I don’t know how to care for a woman.
Deflated, I watch her slip inside the tent and start taking down the evidence of our stay.
I swallow hard and follow her lead.