You Are Mine (Mine, #1)(35)
I've been collared like an animal. The Envadi glares at me. His lips tighten and he looks away. He's more barbaric than I thought.
The gathered crowd shuffles. I realize all women in attendance are being leashed like me. The Envadi yanks on the leash and strides down the aisle. I scramble after him still detached from myself. If I could control my body, I would fight against him. Or at least I think I would. Maybe I wouldn't. The fight is in me, I'm just so tired.
As we pass the crowd, they fall in behind us. Women with their heads down and men leading them along. We move through the room and into a long passage. The stones are cold beneath my feet. As we walk, the world comes closer again, more in focus. Still not normal, though. I can't quite reach myself.
The smell of buttery rolls and roast venison wafts to me and grows stronger. We walk into a banquet hall. A feast awaits.
I'm led to the middle of the main table, a long rectangle, with a throne-like chair where the Envadi takes a seat. When he says and does nothing further, I hover behind him, grateful I'm more in control of my actions, but still not fully connected. Like some part of me is forgotten. The Envadi hasn't forgotten me though. His grip tightens around the handle of my leash.
Father sits on the left. The woman on his leash is not my mother, but a tarnished scantily clad in red. I stare at her hoping for some clue why a red tarnished has taken mother's place, but she doesn't glance my way. The Grand Chancellor takes the chair on the right. The woman on his leash isn't tarnished, but has a stark black star on her neck, elaborate swirls around it. His wife? She kneels on the ground before him. The others sit and some kneel or lay on the floor. Only one other woman stands behind a man's chair. Once everyone is seated, the Grand Chancellor gestures at the Envadi.
He jerks the chain. I fly toward the table. “Get me food, wench.”
I stare at him, willing my gaze to make him disappear. Instead, his jaw clenches. His thumb rubs my leash. Not wanting to make him throw me around more, I face the table.
There are so many choices, I don't know what to grab. What will he do if I pick the wrong thing? My hand shakes as I lift a fork to a whole boar, with onions and carrots surrounding it. Its sides are carved into slices. I dish several onto the plate. A pheasant is nearby so I add that, as well.
The dish is nearly full from the meat I've put on it. More than I thought. Not much of a meal. I grab a hunk of bread and spoon on some peaches. The food trembles as I carry it back. A peach slice falls to the floor. I freeze, staring at the offending piece.
The plate is yanked from my hands. “A drink, woman.”
No complaints or punishments for the dropped food. I release the air from my lungs. The drinks have to be on the table. Certainly there's enough food, it can't matter if a little is on the floor. I grab a goblet and inspect the jugs. Wine, ale, or water. Two of the three choices are acceptable to a man, yet I still have to deal with the Envadi tonight, so I grab the unacceptable choice. With a goblet of water, I return to him. It can't be what he wants but if he'll accept it without backlash, it'll be worth the risk.
He takes it from me and drains it. The men cheer. He casts a powder-blue spell. The cup glides through the air to me. It's warm against my palms.
The other women in the room move to the serving table. I refill the goblet, grateful water appears to be an acceptable choice and return it. The Envadi looks me in the eye, a blaze still burning in him. He points at the floor. Despite his power, I don't want to lower myself to him anymore. But my body is so tired. It's hard to keep it up. I sit, curling my legs under me. It's what is expected of me.
The men talk and laugh. Women walk back and forth between the food and the men, but the Envadi never asks for anything more. Rather than demanding things, he ignores me. He laughs and talks with Father and the Grand Chancellor. Though I know he's a barbarian, he sounds just like the other warlocks.
Other men come by with their leashed women. They send their women for drinks and food for him. Some of the women ignore me. Others gaze at me with sympathy. A few glare at me. One walks up to me, but instead of stopping, kicks my legs before falling to make it look like she tripped over me. I ignore them all.
Vaguely, I'm aware that I should be hungry. I ate so little for breakfast, and my body is exhausted. But none of the food appeals to me. If anything, I feel nauseous. My dress clings to my skin. Sweat beads on my forehead. I lean against the throne. It's cool against my side and face. My eyelids give a heavy blink and close.
Without warning, I'm wrenched to my feet. The Envadi wraps his arm around me, half carrying, half hauling me along. I try to clear my mind as we move past whooping men. The women keep their eyes to the ground, some frowning, some smiling, and some expressionless.
I stumble as he stops to open a door. Frigid air blasts, bringing me fully conscious. My gown does little to protect me from the coming storm. A carriage waits at the end of a pebbled walkway. A footman opens the door. I half jump, am half pushed inside. As I collapse on the seat, the door closes. I pant in the dark.
The carriage moves. My stomach twists. I fumble for the pot kept beneath the seat. There's nothing in my stomach to loose, but my body tries anyway. Over and over again. The ride is infinitely longer than this morning. Rain patters on the roof. The horse's hooves clop on the road. The carriage dips and bounces. I heave again.
When the carriage finally stops, I stay slumped against the seat. The cold darkness bears down on me. The door opens. I flinch at the torch light carried by the footman, but don't move from my seat. After a moment, the footman peers in. With a groan, I sit up. I rub the back of my hand across my mouth. The fresh, rain-scented air eases my stomach. I drag myself from the carriage, quickly becoming soaked by the downpour. Thankfully, the Envadi is nowhere in sight. But Phyllis is.