“Ma left you something,” the oldest says.
I let out a long sigh and walk into my room. When I do, I’m greeted by three bags of laundry.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Pressing my hands to my face, I hold my breath and inspect one of the sacks. The smell of sweat and old clothes hits me square in the face.
I cinch back up the bag. If I let it stink up the whole room, it’ll be a miserable night for sleeping and it’s too cold to simply throw them in the snow. Using all my body weight, I shove them to the side as far as I can, and look around the room.
I pause.
Hibsej has been here, but no dinner?
As if on cue, the door behind me opens again. The doorway looks small in comparison to Hibsej’s form. Irritation and anger radiate off her in waves.
“Where the hell have you been?” she says.
I pause. “I had to visit my mother.”
“Fine.”
Hibsej enters the room and lights one of the torches on the wall. When the light splutters to life, the now-dried tear trails are still visible on her ruddy cheeks.
She holds a plate of food in her hand, which she throws on the table with a loud clatter.
“She told me you stopped leaving food,” I breathe.
Hibsej gives me a scathing look. “Of course I stopped giving her food.”
“But why?”
“Khuohr’s bloody mercy, girl. We all thought you were dead.” She laughs bitterly. “Taking on a comfort woman is meant to symbolize fortune. But really, it’s just a burden. We have no other slaves that tend to the house—other than you—so I must cook and give up parts of my pantry so you can steal my bed. I don’t do it out of the goodness of my heart—it’s an exchange.”
My gut twists as she speaks.
“Forgive me, Mistress Hibsej. I am very thankful for your generosity to my mother and sisters.”
“Fuck off.” Hibsej turns to look at me. “My husband has been invited to a feast of the lords and foremen tomorrow. Something to take everyone’s mind off of the godsdamned tension after the recent confrontation. You are going, so clean your finest dress while you work on all this.” She gestures to the bags of soiled clothing.
Tensing, I dip my head. “Understood.”
Her mouth hardens into a thin line, and she turns to leave. “In the morning, make sure to bandage your wound tightly. Eneko wants you in his room after the meal.”
“I will be prepared at nightfall,” I say.
She sucks her teeth and leaves.
I turn back to the table and find a burnt loaf and a few slices of meat. Weary, I pick up the food and the jug of water I keep inside my room. As I eat, I think of the girls. How had Griselda been so cruel?
My mind wanders through memories of the past. I think of the times when she was gentle before she'd ever called me a whore, when she told me that I was too pretty to let my hair get matted up like the other girls my age.
Griselda would tell such fine stories while she braided my locks, taking me on a thousand adventures.
I loved her. How could I not?
When she let me in, the light of her soul warmed me.
I shake away the thoughts. She isn't that woman anymore—she hardly ever was—and she doesn't have to come to Enduvida. Right now, all that matters is that my daughters are alive. Soon, I’ll be able to take them to a better place.