Debt bondage: (also known as debt slavery or bonded labor) is a person's pledge of their labor or services as security for the repayment for a debt or other obligation. The services required to repay the debt may be undefined, and the services' duration may be undefined.
Source: Wikipedia
Chapter 6
Hell on Meals
Norah looked at the bowl of fruit and bread in front of her with a starving stomach but still refused to take it; the company enough was to make her lose her appetite.
Tama sat across from her in the large stone kitchen the color of granite across from a dark, wooden preparation table. The older woman had spent the time to divulge about the deal that she had struck with Black to have her brought in and despite how much Tama tried to convey that it was out of sympathy for her situation, Norah could sense a layer of falseness in her voice. The ex-bartender wasn't sure of her true intentions but knew for a certainty from their previous conversations that Tama was looking out with her own best interests in mind. Her selfishness was the only thing that ever seemed truthfully conveyed whenever they spoke with each other.
Regardless, Norah listened quietly as she spun her tale of worry and prattled on of how the arrangement was for the best of them, all the while in a soothing maternal voice and eerily pleasant facial features to try and win her over. The only thing the saccharine display seemed to elicit was that it became clear just how manipulative and deceitful Tama was. If this had been her first encounter with her, Norah she could see herself becoming easily spell-bounded by her offer.
Good thing this wasn't their first encounter.
"How much money did you pay Black to find me?" the younger Outworlder asked with a loathing tone, "How much am I unwillingly in debt to you?"
Tama waved her hand absently, "Méh-è's pact was 10,000 in gold coins."
Norah scoffed incredulously at Tama's false dismissive act, "That seems like a lot of coins. Especially just for me."
Tama shrugged, seemingly already prepared with her answer, "Erron Black's services do not come without a price."
The girl tapped a finger against the wooden surface of the preparation table but said nothing. Tama had also expressed how it had been inconvenient for her to use the money from Méh-è's pact to hire Erron Black and Norah had a feeling if she tried to run she would be apprehended and killed for owing the woman— with a much higher station than herself— such a large sum of money. Either Black had to give up the money or she had to work it off as her indentured servant like Tama had obviously planned. The baker looked at the stone ovens with a grimace; ovens that she would have to put to use soon while she failed to conjure a solution to her dilemma that didn't involve her own beheading.
"Need I remind you, you are not a slave here," Tama said, cutting through her thoughts and grabbing her attention. "You may not appreciate my methods, but you will be much safer and have much more opportunity for stability here than gutting fish for a pittance at the docks."
Norah narrowed her eyes at her; she was tired of her sweet, erroneous tone: "You care only of yourself."
"Not entirely true," Tama said, a small cross expression on her face, "I paid him to save you and you will not hear an apology for my actions."
The woman pushed the bowl of food in front like a peace offering and Norah stared at it blankly, unwilling to budge.
"You may leave if once you have worked off your debt, but you also are welcomed to stay here if you grow comfortable to it. You are an indentured servant, but you are not a slave and do not make me treat you as such. I would hate to see the guards remove that stubborn head from your shoulders because you decided to try and run."
Norah shook her head, almost unnoticeable, as she stared at the woman; completely livid by her words. She knew a threat when she heard it and all it did was confirm the bartender's previous suspicions that she would be killed if she ran. She was a slave no matter what words she tried to masquerade it under.
The starving woman heard Tama sigh, "Now will you eat?"
She thought of objecting before she heard her own stomach growl, feeling as if it was eating itself. With a sigh, she picked up the small blue fruit that had a bumpy texture, bit into its flesh and chewed it slowly and unenthusiastically. Norah thought of spitting it out when Tama smiled in approval, but her hunger was enough for her to continue; it had been days without a decent thing to eat.
"You will report before first light every morning here to bake until you have filled your quota for the day. I do not think you will need instruction due to your experience, but if you are uncertain of something you may ask one of the other cooks."
The younger woman simply listened and continued eating; absorbing the information as best as she could through the resentful thoughts for the woman she had clouding her attention.
"You may clean yourself up in my room and after that you may have Méh-è's old room. Her clothes may be small for you, but I will make sure that you have the appropriate size in good time."
Tama leaned forward, her expression suddenly darkening and giving Norah a glimpse of the predator, the one she knew that was hiding under the candied exterior.
"One word of stubbornness from you and I will be sure that I find some other way to collect what is owed to me," Tama warned steely, "You are to be respectful and obedient and if I hear one word that you cannot be either, I will make sure you dislike me even more than you do already."
Norah chewed the inside of her cheek angrily and flashed Tama with a mockingly pleasant look, "Do not worry. I will be the epitome of a good slave as one can be."
Tama narrowed her eyes at her sarcastic tone and Norah could have sworn she thought she would have been slapped across the face when she saw Tama's hand lift slightly off the table.
"My words are not made of air, Norah," Tama warned lowly. "Now finish eating, quickly. You smell terribly, and you need the bath."
Norah did so, but she had a hard time enjoying any of the food that went down into her stomach as Tama waited patiently off to the side. The girl felt uneasy, causing her to harbor a anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach; she truly was not sure what to expect from Tama. One thing was for certain, though, was that Tama would never have paid Black 10,000 gold pieces so that Norah could bake bread.
There was something else... and hopefully she could figure out.
It was always surprising how the bath seemed to lift her mood, however, she still grimaced when she saw the dirty brown water; a reminder of how filthy she had been after weeks of living near the docks cutting up fish.
Unfortunately, the soap and the water didn't remove all traces of the fish smell and she could still feel it lingering on her like a second skin. In Tama's private washroom, Norah stole a glance at Tama's small mirror on the table and frowned at her appearance; she truly did look awful. Along with being ungroomed and hairier than usual— which was the least of her worries— her face looked hollow from underneath the curtain of wet, wavy hair.
Due from the little meals she was able to grab at the docks, and she had lost some of her muscle in the process. Her body enjoyed having muscle and fat, and she looked at her body with a grimace at how emaciated she looked now. Caused not only from starving at the docks but a little from the tavern as well. She frowned, missing her curvy structure rather than the skeleton she saw masquerading before her.
Her ribs poked through her skin prominently as she exhaled deeply and traced the bruise over her jawline, poking it carefully to see how tender it was and if it was healing. Her eye had been open for a while now, and she was also glad that the bruise was disappearing, healing like her jawline.
Her eyes caught the sight of her arm, and she scowled when she saw the angry red mark surrounding her wrist from where Black had grabbed her. She also noticed the dotted purple bruises that danced across her upper arm, traces of where his fingertips had gripped her.
The thought of Erron Black returned her back to her previous foul mood, and she turned away from the mirror and started dressing in the clothes provided to her. She hated the bastard, and the fact alone she was in the same building he was enough to want to renounce the Elder Gods. The only thing she could hope for was for her duties to be insignificant enough for them to never meet each other. Perhaps, she would never see him again, but if they did, she refused to accept that she could stay in the palace in peace with both occupying it.
Ignoring her indignant thoughts about the gunslinger, Norah picked up the dress that once belonged to Méh-è from her pregnancy and gave it a dubious look.
Despite that Méh-è' had been pregnant when Norah had met her, her chest was still much smaller, and that made the bustier girl her frown uncomfortably at how tight it looked. She sighed and worked on getting the beige material over her head. As expected, the dress was too tight, and it pushed her breasts uncomfortably against her, pinning them down tightly. Norah also frowned when she saw that the front had a slit that opened slightly, causing the material to stretch and expose her cleavage more than she was used to or wanted.
"Wonderful," she groaned, trying to pull the side to cover herself with little effort, wishing she had a scarf to cover herself.
The rest of the beige dress fit somewhat fine, the hips and the sleeves a little snug but other than that she had no complaints. She reached for the other section of the dress which looked like a basic skirt that settled at the waist and had thick straps that went over the shoulders like a false apron. She liked the color that was a dark red, almost brown and threw it over her head. The straps settled in front of her chest and draped over the shoulders.
Norah found herself liking the ensemble despite it did not fit right and ignored the one complaint she had about it. She turned towards the flat shoes and reached for them apprehensively. They were basic black flat, slip on shoes with no straps and hoped they were not loose. Otherwise, she would have blisters on the back of her ankles in no time.
The baker sighed with relief; Méh-è' and her were the same foot size.
Norah heard Tama knock on the door, and sucked her teeth in annoyance. Opening the door and collecting her dirty clothes and her leather bag, she walked over and opened the door, finding the abhorrent woman on the other side. Tama greeted her a nod, holding a bundle of work clothes for her.
She seemed to be pleased with her fresh appearance and smiled, "Who knew you had a bosom underneath all those baggy rags."
The girls eyes narrowed in response to the comment, unsure whether it was a merely a strange compliment or a blatant, sarcastic insult. She figured the latter and tried to close the cleavage by using her free hand to grip the material on each side.
"We will have more clothes for you to wear when you are not in your work attire," Tama informed her before handing over the clothes. "These are what Méh-è' worked in while baking and what you will wear until we have a set that fits you right."
The reluctant baker didn't say anything, and instead grabbed the bundle of clothes from her with a blank expression.
"My son will be walking you to Méh-è's old room," Tama told her. Norah blinked, unsure whether she had heard correctly. Tama had a son? She never mentioned him until now.
"I have had a very long day and I will be retiring for the evening. Enjoy your night," the older woman finished, her hand gesturing towards Méh-è's old room. The former tavern worker, exited the room and closed the door behind her with a hard thud, scoffing at Tama's words. You have had a long night? Try being dragged by Erron Black for the whole market to see.
Norah suddenly grunted in surprise at the body that she ran into.
The man, who looked older but still close to her age, smiled warmly at her and when he did, she could see the resemblance to Tama. His brown eyes were kind and portrayed a calm demeanor— unlike Tama's— were genuine that would make anyone feel welcome. The only thing that gave her a reason to speculate that he was almost the same age was the short, boyish black hair that sat untamed like a teenager and whipped out by his ears. Like his face, which was clean shaven, his physique was strong and lean. He wore a sleeveless dark purple shirt with a teal belt cloth tied around his waist that tucked into black pants that tapered into the also dark boots he wore.
His smile faded however, after he looked upon her appearance and was quickly replaced with a look of disappointment and annoyance that she thought was directed at her before he shook his head, and she heard him mutter "Mother..." almost disdainfully under his breath.
Norah's brows bridged together in confusion when he shot a glare towards the door before he gave her a pitying look and he sighed almost in defeat. He shook his head, removed the frown from his face and forced a smile.
"You must be her," he said, his voice carrying a tenor that she hadn't expected. He extended his hand towards her, a look of apprehensiveness on his face.
"I'm Bao," he greeted. Norah looked at his hand, noticing the black leather cuff he wore and that he was also missing the smallest of his fingers and placed her hand in his, returning the gesture. He shook her hand lightly and smiled a little more. She felt something small and cold and when she released his hand, caught the glimpse of a small jade ring on his finger.
"I'm Norah," she returned.
"Earthrealmer?" he said with a nod, although it sounded more of a statement than a question.
She shook her head, "Outworlder."
He groaned almost comically at his error, "I thought you of Earthrealm for sure! Especially with such a name."
Norah frowned, "My parents they... were."
The male servant caught what she was implying and gave her a truly sympathetic look of sadness, "I am sorry."
She nodded her head, and Bao smiled timidly at her, unsure of what to say. Instead he turned, raised his hand and indicated towards the red-stone hallway, lit by torches on the walls in a gesture that conveyed that she lead the way.
The bartender nodded and walked, Bao joining her by her side as soon as she started moving and lead her to her new room. The new-hire servant gripped the clothes against her chest and felt a heavy weight of awkwardness between them.
"You… you are Tama's son?" Norah questioned tentatively, unsure how to resume the conversation.
He looked at her with an unpleasant expression on his face, as if she had reminded him of something she shouldn't have: "She gave birth to me, yes."
Norah raised an eyebrow at the cold manner he had answered her question: "You do not seem happy that I mentioned that."
Bao shook his head, his face softening a bit, "I am not angry at you for asking if that is what you are wondering."
"Do you not like your mother?" the baker asked, wondering in the back of her mind if perhaps it had been too brazen of an inquiry.
Bao didn't reply; his features fixed into a dark frown that told Norah all she needed to know. He must have sensed that she could read him and shook his head, a small smile trying to disguise the resentment he apparently felt towards Tama. "My mother can be a... very difficult person to be around," Bao told her.
Norah smiled lightly at him, finding his honesty refreshing, "If it makes you feel better, I do not like your mother either."
Bao laughed. "There are not many that do."
They were silent after that, awkwardness finally lifting from them, and felt herself relax in his company. It was pleasant that she didn't feel the need to act as hesitant around Bao liked needed to be with Tama, she was expecting them to be mirror images of each other. Instead, she didn't feel any ill thoughts about him, nor did he convey that he was putting on a show like his mother did. However, it didn't mean that Norah trusted him entirely. After all, Tama was his mother.
Her new co-worker led her down a corridor with many doors bunched together on each side, "These are the kitchen staff's rooms. Small, but comfortable as long as you do not mind sharing with the rats."
Norah chuckled softly at his joke.
The younger male nodded and showed her to her room situated at the end of the hallway on the right side. He gentlemanly opened the door for her and let her walk in.
She glanced around the simple room with indecisive indifference. It was simple; barely the size of a broom closet, but her eyes landed on the cot with longing; glad that her back would have a rest from the rocks that had been her bedding for the past couple of weeks. She also had a simple table, chair and bucket and sponge for washing but the room was windowless, and she wondered how she would know whether to rise each morning or not.
He jingled a key in his hand and handed it to Norah. "The key to your room. It would be wise to lock it when you are not in it as well as at night. Some of the guards... they are not very friendly towards the younger women."
The female baker nodded, understanding his point, and took the key.
"I will let you get some rest," Bao said, beginning to leave until a despondent sigh escaped his lips; looking as if a thought had suddenly come to his mind.
"Norah, no matter what she tells you... do not trust her," Bao told her, his brown eyes boring into hers with a dreadful seriousness. It unnerved her despite now being able to confirm that she wasn't wrong to mistrust the woman. If her own son didn't like her, then there was a reason.
She nodded, "I never did."
Bao smiled confidently, "Good," with that last word, he closed the door.
Norah adjusted her eyes to the darkness as best as she could, stumbling around blindly in the meantime and hissing slightly when her toe stubbed against the chair. Hopping on her foot, she eventually found the cot and smiled. Using the new clothes as a pillow, she laid down and sank into the cot.
While it was nice to have a decent bed again, it did little to quell her worry about what to expect. Bao's words still lingered in her head as she fought to drift to sleep. The room, which was deemed hers and hers only, seemed more appropriate when she compared it to a jail cell. Although discontent about her situation, she concluded that there was no way to determine what to expect until the next morning, and even though knowing no matter how much she mulled over the possibilities, was better to forget in the meantime and just enjoy the rest she could get.
Still, rest barely came for her that night, only washing over her in small intervals that made her more tired as a result. After growing even more increasingly exhausted from her insistent tossing and turning, Norah decided to venture out in the hallway. The tired girl grabbed one of the torches scattered along the walls of the servant's quarters, and after a few moments of meandering, returned to her room after placing the torch back in its spot.
Her eyes searched the darkness for the pile of clothing that consisted of her baking attire. Even folded, she could tell the light blue dress with white arm sleeves to go over the long-sleeved dress, looked somewhat worn, and like the clothes she wore, too small for her. Accompanying the garment, was a white scarf for her hair and an apron to match, both as equally as impressive as the dress.
Unsure whether it was night or morning, she picked up the clothing and walked with it outside; seeing no other option to occupy her time. The corners of the baker's mouth tugged briefly as she walked through the dead hallway once more. Norah couldn't help but wonder who the cooks were, what they looked like and if they would be as pleasant as Tama as she tip-toed quietly in the hallway.
Another series of corridors finally led her to the door she had been looking for. She grabbed the handle and turned it, pushing herself through and found the familiar empty kitchen. She looked past the gigantic island of wood that was the preparation table and marched towards the door that led to the herb garden. Just as she expected, it was still night, although it did look like it was starting to lighten into dawn.
Norah sat in the area, her thoughts involuntarily flashing back to her own mediocre garden at the tavern, as she glued her back against the wall. While waiting for the first rays of light, while she changed discreetly out of her clothes and into the baking attire. The ex-bartender sat against the wall for what seemed like an eternity with nothing the same turbulent thoughts that kept her up to keep her company.
She refused to shed a tear over the horrendous situation she found herself in and how she never pictured such a thing ever to happen to her. Tears would not fix anything, and there was no use letting them fall; it didn't mean she didn't want to, though. The more she ran over the events that led up to the position, the more depressed she felt. While she attributed most of it was caused by her father's ridiculous deal with Rhen, it was Erron Black that was the omen that had started it all. Norah knew that most of it wasn't all his doing, but his involvement couldn't be denied.
She also couldn't help but wonder if her outcome would have been different if he had intervened that day or if would have prolonged the inevitable. Whatever the case, she was certain of one thing: if Erron Black had helped, her father may still be alive. He could have easily gunned down Rhen like he was swatting a fly, and he had blatantly chosen not to. The girl could tell he had been considering it too. Whatever his motivations were, he had walked away and in Norah's eyes it made him almost partially responsible. If not, it at least cemented her hatred for him.
Forcing her mind to migrate to a topic that wasn't as infuriating, she settled on trying to figure a way to secure her freedom. However, the fantasies she thought of her escape were unrealistic or ended in death no matter what path she chose.
There was no one she knew in Earthrealm and with nothing of value to get there that option was thrown away. She thought maybe asking Black to give Tama her money back, but she scoffed at the idea he would agree to it. Lastly, she thought of just running away. However, she knew it would end up with her on the execution block in some way.
With no other choice and noticing the sun was coming up, she rose and proceeded into the kitchen and began her first day of servitude. Norah had seen the small piece of paper that lay on the counter when she had walked through and figured it was for her when she saw the list of bread and the quantity demanded.
2 sweet loaves of bread for the morning meal.
2 herbed loaves of bread for the midday meal.
2 herbed loaves of bread for the evening meal.
The baker shrugged indifferently; the list did not seem too difficult of a task, but she honestly thought she would be baking more. She chewed her cheek in thought, wondering who it was that she was baking these loaves for.
She pushed the thought to the side and searched for what she needed. With a tug at the corner of her mouth, she gazed at the bread oven that consisted of a hole cut into the granite wall off in the corner with a small fireplace underneath. While someone had been considerate to supply her with fresh wood, she noticed when she opened the metal oven door that the baking slab would need to be properly cleaned. She grimaced; it looked like the plate had not been cleaned routinely and would take some work to remove the black soot.
Her eyes landed on the bread paddle that was next to the cleaning rod and the dirty towel that hung off the tip of it. She shook her head in disappointment at it, no wonder Tama had said Méh-è' had been poor baker, it showed it in the carelessness she saw in the tools alone.
Norah went over towards the sink area until she found a tattered rag that was somewhat clean. She dipped it in the water and set to work on the slab before she decided to look for the ingredients for the bread she would need. Tama had been vague with her list and she decided to bake with what materials she found.
She had to venture out in the hallway once more for her fire and lit the bundle while she looked for the flour, yeast, and ingredients that she would need for her bread. She searched through the cabinets for the spices she needed and pleased that they were all the baking ingredients were situated together.
Norah looked over the other half of the kitchen that included a large open fireplace and a spit within it and like her oven; it also had the wood ready for burning. A couple of small cauldrons sat out of the way, so her eyes grazed over the dried herbs that hung nearby on hooks on the wall, most likely from the garden nearby. She noticed a small metal basin with several clean iron pots resting in it alongside a little bucket with two pairs of rags for washing and drying. When would she meet the cooks?
Ignoring the question for now, the baker set to her own work; mixing her first loaf together with the sweet sugars, flours, and yeast for the bread for the early morning meal. Even preoccupied, the question returned and she wondered how much alone time she would have until the other servants arrived.
Her inquiry was quickly answered when she noticed the door open, and two men walked in. The baker gaped at them, frankly quite surprised by their appearance.
She had not expected Earthrealmers.
The more willowy and darker of the two was older than her but not by far. He had dark skin, darker than any Outworlder than she had seen and wore a kind complexion with a square jaw and dark stubble around his chin. His beard was trimmed as short as his hair was, and Norah couldn't help but stare at the strange red bandana tied around his head with curiosity; the white swirled pattern nothing she had seen in Outworld.
The other man had lighter skin and was much older, closer to her own father's age with hair that once had been as dark as hers that was now dominated with gray that also covered his beard. Like his beard, his hair was cut short, and both neatly taken care of, the only thing that wasn't covered in white hair was his dark bushy eyebrows. He was thin and muscular and wore a faded dark short-sleeved shirt and dark pants; the same one his accomplice wore.
They were both handsome men in their own ways, the darker in a friendlier way while the older man with a grizzlier exterior but they stared sternly at her in disapproval.
The males looked at each other and then back at her with a frown. As if they had a small silent conversation with each other.
"Well, of course, she found another Earthrealmer," the darker skinned man said, his voice more high-pitched than she would have thought, causing his age to seem younger in her eyes.
Her face fell into confusion before she narrowed her eyes, slightly insulted by his statement.
"You expect anything else?" the older man commented with a slight smile, his voice still hanging to remnants of his youth but losing the battle through his deep and stern voice.
"I swear she has a metal detector in the back," said the younger man, jerking his thumb over his shoulder absently.
"She doesn't need it. Nose like a bloodhound," the other one said, tapping his nose with his index finger lightly.
"Are you speaking of Tama?" Norah asked them, feeling slightly offended that they chose to comment about her right in front of her.
"Yup," the younger man answered nonchalantly. He narrowed his eyes questionably at her as if searching for the answer somewhere on her face. "So what part of Earthrealm you from?"
Norah raised an eyebrow, "I am not from Earthrealm."
"Balderdash! The U.S or Europe?" the older man said, raising an eyebrow at her.
"I was born in Outworld. Not in U.S, Europe or Balderdash," Norah said with an exasperated tone.
The older man laughed loudly, and she saw the younger tried to hide the humored smile that threatened to expose, looking as if he was having a difficult time attempting to hide it.
She felt her cheeks grow hot, feeling slightly embarrassed by their reaction; what was it that she had said? They looked at each other, seeing if each other believed what she told them to be the truth.
The older of the two shrugged indifferently while the younger's mouth tugged up in a dubious smile; a disbelieving look on his face. "Earthrealm, Outworld, Neptune— well, wherever you're from nice to meet you, anyway. And you are...?"
"Norah," she told to the younger man.
"Name's Carver," greeted the dark-skinned man before he pointed to the older gentleman, "He's Bert. We da' cooks."
She narrowed her eyes in disbelief, the corner of her mouth pulled up with doubt at them which they just laughed humorlessly at. Carver walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder that Norah frowned at.
"You stay on your side of the table, and we'll stay on ours. Touch my shit and I hurt you. Comprende?" Carver said with smirk as he let go of her shoulder and walked past her.
"Welcome to Purgatory," Bert added humorously before joining his fellow Earthrealmer.
Norah's eyes stayed glued to her dough after that, trying to forget the presence of the strange Earthrealmers she was sharing the kitchen with; still unsure quite what to make of the odd pair. Much to her relief, they didn't bother her, and she did her best to ignore their conversation that she knew was about her based on how they kept glancing in her direction. Also, throughout their talk, she could make out little quips negatively referencing to Tama. The baker smiled slightly. Well, at least it seemed that they didn't like Tama as well, but as far as Norah was concerned that was where their similarities ended.
By noon, she came to the conclusion that they were harmless but strange. Bert and Carver kept to themselves, going about their business while they both consistently found something to argue about. Eventually, they would arrive at an impasse and settled down as their talking drifted to topics about Earthrealm culture she hadn't the slightest clue about.
"Do you think Willy Wonka was a serial killer? I mean... you never find out what happens to them kids at the end," Carver asked Bert. The older man kept to his work, but let out a disgruntled sigh.
"What about sharks? Do you think they're misunderstood?" Carver persisted with a smile. "If there was someone trapped in a cage, I'd be a good samaritan too and try to get them out. Just because I have fins doesn't mean I wouldn't make the effort."
"Carver. Shut the fuck up, will you?"
Norah smiled lightly as they squabbled back and forth while she pulled out her bread from the oven. She wasn't sure which Elder God she had offended to deserve such company, but she had to admit, they were growing on her despite her aversion at first.
As soon as midday passed, the kitchen was already swarmed with people and they were not making it easy for her to move around. At the tavern, she had grown accustomed to practicing in her own space without interference, now she was being pushed, prodded, shoved and had her toes stepped on more times than she could count. She also noticed the stares of uncertainty from the servants that came and went, but she assumed it was just because she was a new face. Speaking of new faces, she was very surprised at the new occupant in the kitchen that cleaned the pots in the basin.
Like Bert and Carver, Norah was introduced to another Earthrealmer, an elderly woman with a stressed expression and stringy gray hair who sulked and cleaned the pots for the cooks to use. Besides the servants that collected the meals, she was the only native Outworlder here, and Norah wondered if she should be worried about that. Why Earthrealmers?
Eventually, the servants left them alone, leaving just the four of them to go about their work silently before Carver suddenly through his hands in the air in frustration.
"I give up! Where's that damn fish smell coming from?"
Bert nodded in Norah's direction as she closed the metal door to the stove and glared in their direction. The male cooks returned to their duties, currently pulling feathers from the small game they were preparing for dinner while it cooked in one of the cauldrons. It started to bubble and filled the room with a pleasant smell that accompanied the bread baking in the oven.
"It's gonna drive me crazy," Carver muttered under his breath, his palms slamming against the table; the action blowing feathers across the table lightly. "Don't you take a bath ever?"
Norah was about to ask them the same question before Tama had opened the door to the kitchen and came in to survey them all. The younger girls's eyes stayed on the bread, trying to ignore the presence of her employer as she walked over towards the men and spoke to them about tomorrow's meals.
"Try to put effort into pulling the feathers more, nobody likes biting into quills in their meal," she heard Tama condescend to Carver.
They nodded their heads in compliance and Norah looked up to see Carver flashing Tama's back with his middle finger. Norah was unsure what the gesture was supposed to mean, but by the look on the Earthrealmer's face, it was supposed to be offensive.
Tama whirled around just as Carver used the same finger to scratch his nose as if he had an itch while Bert came up behind him and hit the back head with the palm of his hand; more playful than anything else.
Their employer smiled warmly at her even though Norah didn't acknowledge her; her eyes still on the dough. "How are you doing, Norah? " Tama said with an approving nod, "Are you content?"
"I am content," Norah growled through her teeth, kneading the dough harder.
Tama frowned and glanced at the dough before back to Norah with a displeased expression, "Do not get too carried away in your work. It is still a while until the last meal and the Emperor does not enjoy cold bread served to him."
Her hands immediately came to a halt as Norah's eyes widened in alarm and she turned to Tama, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, "I am baking bread for the Kahn?!"
"Yes ma'am," Carver interjected, "You think this tiny little kitchen has enough food for the entire palace?"
"The Kahn and his guards," Bert clarified. Tama shot them a glare, annoyed by their eavesdropping.
"I will try and come see how you are doing at the evening meal," Tama informed her before leaving the kitchen. Norah looked over to see Bert and Carver looking at her with each of their eyebrows raised simultaneously almost in humor.
"What's the matter? Afraid you'll lose your head?" Carver jested as he ran a finger over his throat, imitating having her head decapitated. Norah scoffed in defense, finding herself rolling her eyes at him.
"Yeah, keep rolling your eyes at me, maybe you'll see your brain back there," Carver said, frowning slightly at her.
"At least I will be able to find mine," Norah shot back, earning a loud laugh from Bert while Carver shot him a glower for doing so.
"I like her," Bert confessed with a smile and shrugged. "Much better than that kid who burned all the bread."
Carver's mouth pursed indignantly as if he was failing to think of something to say and just spat: "Take a bath. You smell like a fisherman's ass."
Norah simply slapped the dough hard against the wood of the table, conveying his words fell on deaf ears. With nothing more than a wave of his hand, Carver turned away and back to his work. Bert winked at her with a smirk and helped him as well.
The elderly woman glanced from her pots, smiled and shook her head before she also smiled warmly in Norah's direction, which the baker returned with one of her own.
The evening meal approached, and Norah preoccupied herself with tidying up her station, making sure the oven was properly cleaned after it had the chance to cool off and after that, helped the elderly woman with the pots and pans.
Norah had tried to make small talk with the woman but their conversation never took off. The solitary Outworlder soon discovered that the woman was a mute named Abigail after Bert had come over and whispered that she had her tongue cut out after trying to escape. The only reason she didn't receive worse punishment was because Tama intervened. Outworlders typically lived longer lives than Earthrealmers, so it didn't surprise her that their employer had been involved in this poor woman's life in some way. She couldn't help but wonder: why her tongue? Most of the stories she heard about runaway slaves usually left them enduring a hobbling or death.
The baker didn't ask and kept her question to herself, not wanting to be rude to the woman that had grimaced sadly when Bert had brought up the subject. Abigail seemed appreciative of Norah's help, but every time she glanced her way, Norah noticed a pained expression in her eyes for her.
As soon as Abigail's task was completed with her help, Norah noticed Carver and Bert were finishing up with the food. The hungry girl drooled over the meals on the plate that were waiting to be retrieved on the preparation table. Never before had she seen such exquisite plating done for an Outworld dish. Steam rose off the cooked poultry while Bert and Carver worked on placing the pile of cooked vegetables and grains on the plate. Their dedication for appearance was clearly put to good use as she noticed everything seemed organized on the plate; too picturesque to eat. It made Norah's bread look pitiful and boring as it sat cooling in a large mound on the serving trays. Strange as they may be, they were definitely good cooks.
Bert snapped his fingers at her, grabbing her attention. "You're begging like a dog," he teased playfully with a smirk.
"What's the matter? Didn't you think we Earthrealmers could cook?" Carver interjected sarcastically. "I've got a piece of paper and 20,000 dollars in debt to prove it, too."
Norah cringed when she suddenly heard her stomach growl loudly, the Kahn's dinner tempting her doing little to help her forget she was hungry. Tama had told her she was to have a break each day but like Bert and Carver, most of their breaks ended up being in small intervals of boredom. To be honest, with not much besides baking, she was unsure whether she was allowed to leave the kitchen or not since the others never did.
The servants eventually came for the food, and it left them with nothing much to do but clean. Eventually, a knock came at the door, and Carver answered it to greet an Outworlder. His body was frail and skinny underneath his rags— clearly marking him as a slave— as he came in with a pile of wood in a cart behind him. Norah took her own bundle of timber while Carver and Bert grabbed the food and two buckets of water for their use.
Bert nodded over in her direction, "Tzi, this is Norah. She is the new baker."
Norah nodded her greeting slightly in Tzi's direction that he returned while Bert looked at her, "He is the supply runner for us. If you run out of something, he's the one to get it. Make sure you give him enough time, though, not everything travels fast here."
Tzi left shortly after his introduction, leaving the four of them without anything to do.
Currently, Bert, Carver, Norah and Abigail sat around the table, waiting for the servants to come back with the plates for them to clean which surprisingly took longer than expected.
Carver sat, drumming his fingers against the table while Bert had his eyes closed with his arms crossed over his chest. Almost as if he was trying to fall asleep when he was woken by the sound of Norah's stomach growling loudly. Norah sighed in embarrassment.
"Don't worry, we'll be eating soon," Bert assured her without even opening his eyes, "I can hear them now."
Norah listened and heard the footsteps approach before the door opened. Servants entered carrying empty plates except for one plate that looked like it hadn't been touched and sat it on the preparation table for them to collect.
Bert grabbed the plate that didn't look like it had been touched at all when she reached greedily for it; unable to sway off her hunger any longer. Her eyes instantly narrowed at him when she saw him walk over to a small drawer and produced utensils. He walked back, heading towards the female Earthrealmer, and pulled apart the meat from the bone and cut the vegetables into smaller pieces.
Norah thought he was going to eat it until he smiled at Abigail and pushed the plate over to her which she gave a thankful nod at. Norah noticed that Carver didn't have any objections to it, hardly blinking and figured that this was routine. Norah smiled but felt somewhat ashamed that she had tried to take Abigail's food. Not expecting the gesture at all from the Earthrealmers based on her first impression of them. Outworld had only taught her to fend for herself.
"Why was there still food on that plate?" she asked curiously.
"Ermac never touches his food," Bert answered.
Norah furrowed her brows in confusion. She was well aware of who Ermac was; out of all the Kahn's bodyguards, he had the biggest repetition of being the most mysterious as well as the most dangerous due to his magic— or at least according to tavern gossip.
"Why serve him a plate, then?"
"Courtesy," was Carver's reply, "It be rude not to. Plus we don't wanna die. I like my intestines to stay in my body, thank you very much."
The door opened, and Abigail panicked for a moment, preparing to hide her plate until she saw it was Bao who came through carrying a clay pot and bowls with him.
"About time you showed up," Carver mumbled irritably to Bao, "We were wasting away here."
"I apologize," Bao sighed, "The dining hall was very busy tonight."
"We were thinking you had forgotten about us. Don't turn into your mother on us," Bert commented with light sarcasm.
Bao smiled lightly, "Never," he said and sat the black clay pot down.
He gave each of them a bowl before sitting by Abigail, who he patted her hand gently, earning a smile from the older woman. Norah noticed Bao wore the same outfit that she had seen him in yesterday and came to the conclusion that it must have been a uniform as well.
She began to remove the scarf from her head as the Earthrealmers scooped a bowl for Abigail before passing the ladle to Norah. The Outworld girl scooped up the brown, rust colored stew and frowned when most of it was liquid and rice with little meat she didn't recognize, but she was thankful for something nonetheless.
Carver seemed to notice her look of disgust and chuckled. "Don't worry, it tastes worse than it looks but it'll at least fatten you up," Carver concluded with a frown.
Carver and Bert poured their bowls and Bao gave Norah a smile. "Your bread was successful. I think they were pleased that it tasted decent for once," he told her.
"Yay, you get to keep your head," Carver mocked before he slurped his soup loudly.
Norah raised an eyebrow,"Méh-è was that poor at baking?"
"Not all of the time," Bao said, grabbing a bowl for himself as well, "She did burn it quite often, though."
Carver choked on his soup, his bark of laughter echoing all over the kitchen, "Quite often isn't the phrase to describe the black bricks she pulled from that oven! I've seen volcanic rocks that were lighter. She had to rush through to bake new loaves as quick as she could so the Kahn had something to eat."
"They were always doughy then they should have been. At least you do not talk to us to death," Bert added, diving into his bowl without looking up.
Carver threw up his hands, his palms pointing towards his face and gazed up at the sky, "Hallelujah."
Norah's eyes glanced up towards the ceiling, wondering what deity he was praying to and began to eat her food. It was cold and bitter tasting but her stomach was thankful for a meal finally, and she ate it without complaint.
All of them grew quiet as they ate their food as well, and Norah had to admit that her first day didn't go as badly as she had expected it to.
A month had passed, and Norah had to admit she was growing quite bored with her new occupation.
Like the first day, she found herself looking for more work to do— anything to keep her occupied in the kitchen. She had asked Bert and Carver if they needed any help but they quickly told her no; both of them possessively particular about their space in the kitchen and their food. For the most part, and besides the way she had come to be here, she was feeling somewhat relaxed in her environment.
Her weight had returned to her, and her clothes fit much better after Tama had given her the proper size. Her mood also seemed lifted, and she had to agree it had very much to do with the people that she worked with in the kitchen even if it was only some of the time.
Things were tolerable with the Earthrealmers, and she even caught herself laughing at some of their jokes but some days she found herself irritated with their Earthrealm references that went beyond her comprehension. While Bert was more of the level-headed of the two, Carver had small bouts of immaturity that brushed Norah the wrong way. She honestly expected more maturity from someone older than her despite the realm they grew up in. She had also eventually discovered during their small talks with each other how they had both ended up in Outworld.
Carver was from a place called Honolulu, Hawaii but had lived mostly in Los Angeles. Bert called Texarkana, Texas home, and despite how much they asked, she gave them the same answer that she was born in Outworld.
The younger male Earthrealmer had found himself in trouble financially and had used the opportunity to flee to Outworld before they were able to find him. Bert was more hushed about reasons, only saying he gave someone information for a ticket to Outworld and nothing else. They had volunteered to become indentured after finding nowhere else to put their talents to use; both of them had been cooks in some aspect, although Carver was the better chef. Norah never did ask about Abigail and while she was curious, kept her question buried in the back of her mind.
While she did like Abigail, the older woman was difficult to read, and Norah wasn't sure if she was welcome company for her or simply a burden because of the looks she gave her. The baker wished she could understand why she gave her the sympathetic and pitying looks, but she couldn't place what the woman was thinking. Maybe it was because they seemed to shared the feeling of being an outcast in some way; Abigail with her muteness and Norah with her birthplace being in Outworld. Still, Norah wasn't convinced that was the reason.
The baker was surprised and both thankful of how little they saw of Tama. While she did stop in to inspect how they were doing, she would leave shortly and attend to other business. Bert had eventually clarified that this wasn't the only kitchen that Tama oversaw, and Norah accepted the answer; somewhat glad that Tama wasn't a lingering presence.
The one person that she was surprised she got along so well with was Bao, despite who his mother was. She learned that Bao was a cup-bearer at the Kahn's meals and had even served at the ex-Kahnum's dinners as well. Tama's son was always kind and respectful to her and Norah felt comfortable around him. Unlike his mother, he was genuine about caring for people, and she saw it with the loving camaraderie he showed towards Abigail. She still had a hard time believing that Tama of all women was his mother— they were complete opposites.
Bao always tried his best to bring them food after he was done since the dining hall for the servants was at the other end of the palace but there were days he simply couldn't. It had happened only a couple of times, and that was when Norah was finally able to get to see more of the palace with the Earthrealmers leading her. Bert had been somewhat strict about letting her venture alone and told her to have him accompany her if she needed anything, which frankly, Norah was glad he offered. It turned out that Norah didn't like the dining hall as much as the cooks did. The majority of the people that occupied the dark and muggy room were slaves who did not have pleasant feelings towards indentured servants.
Norah was also quite surprised she had not run into Erron Black since her stay at the palace until the last time they had to retrieve their meal. Black had passed them in the hall and responded to each other by returning venomous glares that, unfortunately, the Earthrealmers noticed and had commented on.
"Who sent his horse to the glue factory?" Carver said, jerking a finger at the mercenary as they passed.
"I don't think he was looking at us," Bert replied, giving Norah a concerned look.
They asked her if both of them had history, but after they saw the overly bitter look on her face, they seemed too reluctant to press the subject further.
That was a week ago, and Norah had pushed it out of her mind. While she was in the middle of her second loaf of the morning bread, she noticed the back door open and a very frightening, but tiny individual, spill through it and walked up to her.
The white-haired girl that was much shorter than her and looked up her curiously through the metallic helmet she wore. She placed her hands on her hips and unintentionally exposed the sharp ends of the arm-blades of her gauntlets. The girl looked more like a child than anything, but Norah was still apprehensive towards her; the appearance alone was enough to convince her that the girl was who she thought she was.
"You bread-lady?" she asked, her voice nasally and high-pitched and as childish as her appearance.
Norah nodded nervously.
"Ferra want bread for Torr too— you make it!" Ferra barked, nodding authoritatively at her that was almost comical.
The baker forced a kind smile on her face and put her hands on her hips, unsure what to say to the Kahn's bodyguard until she looked at the dough and a question came to mind.
"Alright," Norah gulped, "What kind of bread do you want me to make?"
"Ferra like sweet bread best! You make it or Torr stomp guts out!"
Norah's eyes widened as her eyebrows shot up to the ceiling at her words, a hesitant look on her face at the remark while she thought of something to say quickly.
"I would be more than happy to make the bread for you and Torr. He does not have to... uh, stomp my guts out..." Norah's face twisted uncomfortably; mentally hoping it was a good enough answer as her eyes flickered to the arm blades.
Ferra seemed pleased with her answer, didn't say anything and suddenly took off towards the back door leaving Norah sighing shakily under her breath as soon as the door slammed shut.
The female cook exhaled and went back to working on the loaf she had been kneading, but frowned when she realized this all seemed familiar, and scowled when she realized it was essentially the same the deal with Erron Black that she used to have; give them what they wanted or death. At least Ferra was blunt about it and had somewhat of a personality compared to the disgruntled gunslinger.
The other door opened suddenly and Carver poked his head out, a fearful look on his face that Norah could tell was meant to be comical.
"Is the tiny psychopath gone?" Carver asked with a hushed whisper. Bert opened the door wider and looked at Norah with a raised eyebrow before shook his head and pushed away whatever it was he was going to say.
Carver walked in after that, a crooked grin on his face, "Maybe you should have burnt the bread, especially seeing how Ferra likes it so much."
Norah flashed him a stern look although they could see the ghost of a smile on her face: "I would never do such a thing! I could not dare to call myself a baker if I let that happened."
Bert laughed at that, and Carver smiled a little wider. The darker Earthrealmer snapped his fingers, and that was when Norah noticed the small bag in his hand.
"I have a present for you," Carver blurted, walking over to her and giving her the bag. "Merry Christmas."
Norah gave him a dubious look, refraining from asking what Christmas was, and opened the bag, unsnapping the buttons and looked inside to see grooming materials. The young Outworlder looked at him with a glower.
"Figured you could use it—" he pointed a finger at her forehead— "Your fuzzy caterpillars are so close to each other they could shake hands, have tea and discuss the weather."
Norah covered her eyebrows instinctively and shot him an insulted glare that Carver laughed at. One of the things that she hadn't' been given by Tama, and had forgotten to grab from the tavern, was her grooming materials. She honestly didn't have anything to use, so she had ignored her looks, especially since she only ever went to her room or the kitchen.
Carver shrugged, the grin still on his face. "Just saying is all. You could use it. I saw you scratch your leg the other day, and I've seen less hair on a man's legs."
Norah's jaw dropped, completely offended. Bert laughed quietly in the corner and shrugged sheepishly at her. "Sorry, kid. He's got a point."
"See, Bert agrees too," Carver pointed out. Suddenly his face turned playfully stern, and he pointed a finger to the door, "Now go to your room and don't come back till you look like a lady."
Norah let an exasperated scoff escape her: "I have to bake. I will clean up after I am done—"
"Oh no—now. I can watch your bread," Carver scolded, grabbing her by the shoulders and guiding her towards the door against her will. Carver opened the door and before Norah could protest, gave her small but harmless kick to her rear with the side of his foot and closed the door.
The baker went to open the door, but Carver opened it and waved his hand at her, shooing her get her to get away from the door. "Begone!"
Norah huffed indignantly, "You are acting ridiculous. You are going to burn my bread and—"
"Yeah, yeah you're welcome Carver for the gift," he said with a roll of his eyes and closed the door, leaving her flabbergasted.
The Outworlder sighed in defeat, looked at the bag in her hand and smiled while she shook her head. "Earthrealmers..."
Bao's pace increased as he tried to evade his mother that was stalking him around the table as he helped collect the plates for the servants to carry away. The Kahn and his bodyguards had already finished their evening meal, and he was disappointed he was not able to escape her before she had found him.
"Mother, I said no. Find someone else," Bao reminded her sternly, a scowl on his face as he handed the metal plate to the servant girl that bowed and left, leaving him and his mother alone. Tama looked at him, a smug countenance on her face that he hated.
"I think Norah could do well. You need the person since the other cup-bearer did not make it past The Marking," Tama continued, following her son as he walked out of the dining area and into the corridor. Her son gritted his teeth as he heard her footsteps behind him and turned sharply to look at her.
"Besides, you have said yourself that Norah wants to keep herself busy," Tama said, sending a flash of annoyance through him.
"Mother, I do not know what you truly want, but I will see that you do not get it," Bao returned firmly. "Norah is doing well where she is. I sense a much better change in her since she first came here, and I do not want to see it shattered from another one of your schemes."
Tama frowned, "I will ask Norah then if you will not do so. Perhaps the prospect of reducing her time here would interest her."
The younger Outworlder gritted his teeth angrily and took a step forward, his finger raised threateningly at her. "Leave the girl alone."
Tama shook her head dismissively at him, a placid glower on her face as she surveyed him. "You and your sentiments for Earthrealmers."
"I said NO, Mother!" Bao yelled, his hands waving indignantly at her.
Tama scoffed, "I will still make her the offer regardless. You need the position filled and Norah clearly has shown interest in increasing her workload. She is a hard worker and she will do well."
Bao's hands tightened in anger, "And The Marking? You would put her through it just so you may have whatever it is you have in mind?"
Tama smiled at him, raising an eyebrow at him with a cognizant look at him like a vulture who had found carrion. Bao nodded his head; all of a sudden it became clear to him.
"You will not ruin another," Bao vowed with a stern tone, "I will make sure of this."
Tama pursed her lips and walked past him with Bao sharply on her heels; following behind his mother in the direction that she knew she was headed.
As soon as they reached the kitchen door and tried to open it, his hand slammed against the door and closed it on his mother who still kept her hand on the handle.
Tama flashed him an annoyed look that he mirrored with as much intensity. "Walk away," he warned firmly.
"You would threaten your own mother?" she questioned, a challenging eyebrow raised.
In response, he grounded his teeth painfully. "Leave her be— she has done nothing to you."
Tama scoffed, "You are getting much too carried away with your unfounded suspicions. All I want to do is ask her—"
Bao felt the door open and he grimaced inwardly when his mother and himself stepped back to let Norah walk through the door. She had a deep frown on her face, obviously from overhearing that they had been talking about her from the other side of the door.
"Ask me what, exactly?" the younger woman questioned, a displeased tone in her voice as she crossed her arms over her chest. Bao noticed that she looked cleaner, but he pushed the thoughts aside when Tama smiled at her son. Bao huffed loudly and in turn, he crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his jaw twitching angrily as Tama came towards her.
"I know you have expressed interest in more work and it so happens there is a position in the other part of the palace that needs attending to— one that is rather important."
Bao noticed the mistrust in Norah's eyes but sighed and asked: "What is it?"
Tama placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, and it took all his patience not to jerk his shoulder away from her burning touch.
"Bao needs another cup-bearer to help him with the dinners," Tama informed, "I was telling Bao how you would be a great replacement since you are doing so well. You would still have to bake, and you would only be there to serve the evening meals and transport food if they choose to dine in their rooms. For working two jobs instead of the one, your debt with me would be faster paid."
Norah narrowed her eyes as a thoughtful look came across her face, and Bao could see that the girl was starting to consider it. Bao stepped forward, his mother's hand lifting from his shoulder as he gave his mother a direct look, his own eyes narrowed in anger.
"What my mother has failed to mention is who you would be serving," Bao interjected before turning back to Norah.
"Who?" Norah asked, chewing her lip nervously.
"Ferra/Torr," Bao answered, his head nodding minutely in Norah's direction as he gave her heedful stare, "And Erron Black."
Norah's eyes widened instantly in hatred at the name, and she gave Tama a disdainful look that Bao was glad to see and expected.
Bao knew of Erron Black and Norah's deal through conversation with his mother and prayed to the Elder Gods that their unfortunate history with each other was enough for Norah not to accept the deal. He didn't trust his mother in the slightest and knew that her tactical moves were not wasteful ones. There was a reason that she wanted Norah in such a position.
"I know how much you dislike Erron Black—"
Norah let out a loud scoff at Tama's words and shook her head; dislike wasn't even the word to describe the amount of hatred Bao could see etched on her face at the mercenary's name.
"However," Tama continued, "I can assure you your time here will be much shorter here if you agree. I can have another contract written for you to sign if you wish that would guarantee your time served would be much shorter."
"How long did you plan on having me imprisoned here?" Norah spat, "I have yet to see the contract that I am supposed to sign for my services."
"10,000 gold coins for baking bread is a lot of years of debt to repay no matter how skilled at the craft you are or not— not to mention your food and lodging here. The market price I believe still is a bronze coin for a single loaf, Norah, and I know you Earthrealmers do not live very long lives. I should suspect that you would be around Abigail's age when you finished with your contract."
Bao closed his eyes in saddened disbelief when he heard that and only opened them when Norah shouted angrily at his mother.
"I am from Outworld! I am not an Earthrealmer!" Norah yelled furiously at her, an extreme look of malice on her face, "And you cannot keep me here for that long!"
"All I ask is that you commit to your duties with Bao. Do this and I assure you, you will not be here for all of your days," Tama replied calmly, unfaltering as Bao and Norah both seethed angrily at her.
The younger female trembled with rage, and as Tama turned to walk away, Bao had to hold Norah back by her shoulders as his mother said, "I would certainly hate to see you still baking bread at Abigail's age, Norah."
Bao glared at the form of his mother's fleeting presence at the mention of Abigail before she turned the corner. He felt Norah's shoulders shake under his touch and could hear her trying to hide the frustrated sob that broke through her. Bao closed his eyes, sighing sadly for her and kept his hands on her shoulders to try and comfort her.
"P-Please... get your hands off me..." Norah sobbed shakily.
Bao released her with a saddened frown and stepped back to give her space. "Norah. I did not want this for you. I want you to know that..."
He could see her nod her head slightly before she raised a hand to wipe her tears aggressively, suck in a breath and proceed back into the kitchen. Bao tried to follow, but she closed the door on him, leaving him outside staring at the wood of the door with a heavy cloud of guilt hanging over his head.
Norah walked past her dough, leaving it forgotten on the table as well as the loaf in the oven and tried to hide the tears of frustration that spilled unwillingly from her face.
She saw Bert and Carver looking at her with equal expressions of worry, but she ignored them and slammed the door behind her. Seconds after, she collapsed against the wall outside, burrowing her face into her knees and finally letting all of her repressed feelings. Everything from her father's death, losing the tavern, her resentment for Black and Tama's conniving ways flowed freely and soaked into the fabric of her knees as she sobbed pitifully.
Norah heard the door open, and she quickly tried to wipe the tears and compose herself. However, she failed before Bert came over, grasped her under her arms to get her to stand, placed an arm around her shoulders and walked her back inside.
"No tears, Norah, they won't change anything," he told her, rubbing her back with his hand. "You gotta job to do, kid and don't worry— you aren't the only one who has knives for Tama."
Norah looked at him with an appreciative nod before she scrubbed the tears from her eyes and let out a shaky sigh. As Bert led her back inside, she recalled an Earthrealm phrase Carver had used in the past that seemed to sum up the situation.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Once again she would have to deal with Erron Black.