Dreams (exchange 6)
"A pleasure it is," Jaelin managed to say before the girl left. That look she gave him. It seemed to relieve his pains and worries of the day's wearying trials. He had very much liked to incapacitate the baron to give him time to ponder about how he knew her. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. And he was forced to endure a long, tedious lecture on punctuality and its blessings. Jaelin didn't hear a word of it. His mind never left the maid. It caused him considerable much irritation to know he knew her yet not know how.
So in the end, it was unanimously decided (which in this case meant the baron asking and answering his own ritorical questions) that sometime tomorrow in the afternoon, Jaelin was to pick up a particularly large delivery order and drop it off-- on time, the baron emphasized-- to the manor's staff quarters. At this point, Jaelin took part in the conversation, voicing his utmost agreement. Here, another chance to speak with her. He was determined to finish what they had inadvertently started. With this plan to heart, the baron bid him depart to his home to gain what sleep the late night could now offer.
Jaelin stopped at the manor gates to look back.
"Good night, my Lady Mystery," he said into the air, knowing she wouldn't hear it. Now he could bring himself to leave. Tomorrow would arrive sooner than it was anticipated and he had to be in the right mindset to ask the right questions.
As soon as the baron's guest was gone, he paid an unusual visit to the kitchens. Amara was working there, cleaning the larger pots the cooks used throughout the day. She looked up and bowed her head, unable to manage much else as she was. It didn't take more than one look for her to tell her master was angry.
"Where do you know him from, wench. Have you been whoring yourself out for extra money? Food? What is it. Whatever it is. I will give it to you and you can stop disgracing yourself and more importantly, me."
Her eyes widened at his assumption that she had taken to that kind of work. If you could call it work at all. For a moment she was too stunned to speak. But then her voice came back to her.
"I've never met that man before tonight, I swear it. I may just remind him of someone he knows... but I have not gone to any whore houses, nor do I have any needs you're not taking care of." She was careful to add in this last bit. It'd be dangerous to leave it hanging.
He glared at her, evaluating the honesty of her words and sincerity of her expression.
"If I ever find otherwise... you will be the worse for wear. That I promise you, slave."
She flinched at being called slave. He reserved that name for when he was truly upset with her. He left the kitchen and she finished her work, finally falling into an exhausted slumber in her room.
The next day she was troubled and somewhat cross, choosing to work in the staff quarters, which weren't busy during the day.
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