Safia Dren.
The knock on my door signalled an end to the freedom of my dreams, the only freedom I had been allowed for the past month. My mother called from the other side of the door. "Safia dear, it's time to wake up. May I come in?"
"Yes," I answered automatically. The idea that she was actually asking permission was a farce. Bad things happened when mother and father's wishes were denied.
I pulled off the light silk sheets and sat on the edge of my bed. A female Dunmer slave opened the door for my mother, keeping her eyes downcast. She had been awake all night, assigned by my father to sit in my bedroom and make sure I didn't sneak away under the pretense of her being there in case I needed anything during the night.
Mother entered and opened the heavy drapes, letting in a flood of bright light from the rising sun. "It's a beautiful morning." Mother was wearing a dark, form fitting dress, accompanied by a gold necklace, embedded with a deep red ruby. Her long straight hair cascaded down her back to her waist. She never braided it or changed the style. Father liked that hairstyle and so mother would always have that hair style. When she went to my dresser, I expected her to select similar clothing to what she wore, as she always did.
I stood, letting the Dunmer slave and an Argonian slave pull off my night clothes. The Argonian had brought a porcelain pitcher of scalding hot water which I poured into a wash basin. The Dunmer slave got to work with a washcloth, gently wiping me clean.
"Your father has a surprise for you today," mother said excitedly.
I couldn't help the twist that formed in my gut, hardly hoping to believe that a surprise could harald good news. "What is it," I tentatively asked?
"Oh, I don't want to give it away."
When the slave was done bathing me, I turned around, cold from the cool morning air and the moisture that hadn't dried from my skin to find my mother setting out my traveling clothes and not rugged dress clothes that father made me wear when we rode or took a boat into town, but the trousers, shirt, boots, and corset that I'd bought on my own and wore whenever I could get away.
Mother wrinkled her nose at the rugged clothing. "Oh, these are so unladylike. I don't understand what you like about them."
"Well, if you ever traveled the countryside by foot, you might understand a bit better," I chided.
"Hmm," mother mused. "I can't see the appeal there either, but your father wanted you dressed in these and your temple robes today."
I made no comment, suddenly daring to hope that I might actually be allowed to leave the plantation compound. Mother stepped back and I let the slaves dress me. They automatically moved to start grooming my hair and apply makeup, but mother waved them off. "She won't need all that today."
The women silently bowed and retreated a few paces, the Argonian moving to open the door at my mother's direction. Gathal Llethri waited in the hallway as he or his brother always did. At least one of them always attended me as a bodyguard now,. The rugged Ashlanders took their duties seriously, always dressed in their light leather armor with their wicked blades lashed to their backs. Llaro always kept a straight face, never betraying any sort of emotion. Lately however, Gathal had changed. Upon exiting my room, the Ashlander stood from his bench and bowed his head respectfully, although I noticed his eyes lingered on me longer than was polite. I felt blood rush to my face. If I were like my father, I'd have him whipped for being insolent, but I didn't want that. More than anything, I wanted not to be the only one who was willing to step outside the rules of Orvas Dren.
The moment passed and mother led the way to the patio where father sat waiting for us under a shade canopy. He was staring to the east where the rising sun was reflected on the river Hairan. A gentle breeze blew, ruffling father's high necked coat. He stood upon seeing us and waited for us to seat ourselves before sitting again. He looked upon my apparel silently, showing neither approval or disapproval.
The kitchen slaves brought out food now that mother and I had arrived. Father's gaze didn't leave me while the table was set. I looked down at the table to avoid his gaze.
After the slaves fell back away from the table, father gestured to the food. "Eat something Safia. You'll need your strength today."
I obeyed, taking a cluster of grapes and setting them on my silver plate. Mother ate daintily, waiting for father to speak his mind. He set an elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand, staring ponderously.
"I think it's time we speak plainly, daughter." His tone was easy, casual. "Pretense has its uses, but you're an adult now, so I want to know what's on your mind. Answer me this. Why do you despise me so?" He paused, waiting for an answer. I dared not speak, fearing a trap. "Come now. I elect to keep you here, with all the riches and trappings I have won. I invite the most noble young men to court you. I provide you with the finest foods, clothes, jewelry and dedicate able bodied slaves to wait on your every need and you seem to me the most miserable creature in existence. Tell me truly, do you prefer a simple temple bed and thin porridge and rough clothing to all I can give you?"
"Yes," I said, perhaps a little too quickly.
"Why," Orvas asked? "Please, help me to understand. The average citizen of Vvardenfell can only look forward to a life of hard labor for a meager payout. The things you have are what every free Dunmer dreams of having in the late years of their life. What is of so much value that makes you want to leave this place for a dank temple with cramped quarters? Why dedicate your life to gods who will never grant you the blessings you already have?"
I had to look to my mother to make sure this was really happening. All my life, I had always had to play by my father's rules and any differing opinions I had were to be kept to myself because he was the ruler of his house. Mother nodded encouragingly. "I suppose I want to be a part of something larger than myself." That much was true.
"Do you really think the temple is bigger than all my holdings, all my enterprises? Why then are they always asking alms from me and not me from them? What is it about them that gives you a feeling of superiority over me?"
"The work I do for the temple makes me happy. I like helping people less fortunate and learning from wise teachers."
"Oh daughter," Orvas sighed. "If you want to help the poor, you'd do far better to run a business like me and make donations rather than beg donations from others. And if it is wisdom you wish, I can hire any tutor. I'd be willing to bet I could get you an audience with Lord Vivec himself for a large enough donation. Why can't you seek after happiness with marriage and raising a family."
"Do you want me to marry a man like you?" I asked, tension building in my stomach.
"I want you to marry a man who is intelligent and business savvy. A man who can provide for you as I do, yes. A man who can protect you against those who would use you. Why not a man like me?"
"How about a man who drinks too much and hits me when he gets annoyed with me?" Mother let out a small gasp and I knew I'd gone too far, yet father's gaze remained unchanged, no doubt he would have hit me if it didn't mean proving me right. The servants, including Gathal Llethri, became still and silent as statues. Tears stung my eyes and I recklessly doubled down. "The priests and priestesses never cause me to cry myself to sleep at night."
Orvas slowly nodded several times. "Yes, well. Nobody's perfect. Safia, I won't pretend to empathize with you. I believe I've provided you with a good life, but as it would seem, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Your mother and I can't stand to see you moping around here any longer. If you truly desire to serve the temple, you may do so on two conditions. One, you may never take a vow of celibacy. I expect you to one day marry and carry on the family line. Two, you are to complete the temple pilgrimage and you are to do it without assistance. You are to leave today with nothing but the clothes on your back and the food in your belly. You will learn what it is to live without the privileges of your station. You are to do this under an alias and you must depend on yourself and the kindness of strangers to complete the Pilgrim's path. However, I cannot let my daughter travel alone, so the Llethri brothers will accompany you as protectors only. They are not to feed you, carry you, or assist you in any other way in the absence of danger to your person. Let us see if your convictions are as strong as your words."
My hopes were raised at the announcement that I'd be leaving only to be dashed by the knowledge that I'd be accompanied by my father's men. Any hope of running to work with the thieves guild was undermined. If I disappeared, the Llethri's would return home and inform my father. And despite my talk, the thought of losing access to my father's money frightened me. I'd never had to provide for my own meals and lodging. But I kept these thoughts to myself and bit my lip in determination. If it would get me away from the villa, I'd do it."