Lord Veklor. He's quite an important noble—he owns a decent chunk of the eastern and northern yards. Insulting him would be foolish.
As a sculptor might carve out a perfectly demure face on a statue, I adjust my position, straighten my dress, and arrange my face into the sultry fantasy that men have projected onto those in my station. He takes my movements as pleasing and flashes me a smile of his own.
"It's a shame that your master has left you here all alone," Veklor says. His eyes pass quickly over my body, starting at the glittering headdress and landing on my feet, which have been tactfully kept out of sight.
Giants love neatly groomed, delicate feet.
I smile at him as sweetly as I can muster. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."
Veklor's smile deepens.
“Perhaps.” He draws one hand out from behind his back and offers it to me. “And perhaps you'd enjoy a dance while we wait for him."
I refuse to let my lips twist downward even a fraction. "I don't think that would be wise."
He lets out a laugh, but his eyes narrow. "And why would that be?"
I breathe through the wave of nerves washing over me. I always thought that this part would go away—that I would once be able to feel as at ease as I look. It's a testament to my skills that the men never notice. Or perhaps... they don't wish to see.
"Truly, your offer honors me. But I'm sure that Foreman Eneko will return soon. We will likely leave after," I say as softly as possible.
He smirks. "Yes. I'm sure he'll keep you quite busy."
"I will," a voice rumbles out from behind him.
The tension in my chest continues to mount. I breathe in.
You are strong. You are fierce. You are capable.
I let the air out of my lungs.
Eneko steps into view, and Veklor casts him a long suffering glance. "Ah, the devil himself."
Takes one to know one.
"It's a pleasure to see you, Lord Veklor. I hope that the lumber we've been sending is sufficient." Eneko’s words run together a little. He hasn’t been gone that long but it seems he’s managed to drink his weight in wine.
We need to return to the cabin so I can get him talking before he crashes. Without speaking, I gravitate to my place at his side. It's more habit than anything, but it's still necessary.
They continue talking for a moment before a slave appears with a tray of wine glasses. The tension knotting up in my stomach makes me nauseous as we stand there.
They talk about lumber and slaves, and I listen to them discuss the different parts of the trade. I hear about the thousands dead, and sadness snips at my heart. Eneko ordered dozens to be murdered while we sit here partying.
"They can try to do whatever they want, but it will be useless. We've got them backed so far into a corner that they would be fools to try to get out again. As you probably heard, the king is making good on his promises to cut out the rot at the root. With any luck, the next generations of humans won't be so bitchy," Veklor says.
Eneko pauses. "And what will we do without workers?"
We humans need to get the fuck out of Zlosa.
The sooner, the better.
Veklor makes a noncommittal sound. "We'll be fine. They breed like rabbits and mature quickly. We have more across the kingdom that can supplement the more arduous tasks like chopping and butchering while they repopulate."
I memorize every word, knowing that I must remember it for my meeting in a few hours.
We need to leave. I don’t want Ra’Sa to wait all night; he must rise early.
Every nerve in my body sparks to life as Eneko leans down a half hour later and says, "Time to return."