Chapter 9
Terms and Conditions May Apply
It had been a week since her wrist had been branded, and Norah was glad that she was towards the end of her healing because the pain, though had subsided day by day, had been constantly unbearable. Also, despite she was pleased by how Erron Black severely disliked seeing her survive The Marking, she noticed that things between them might not remain in her benefit.
After that day, he never said a word to her, looked her direction and certainly never moved his goblet for her. Even though she was somewhat glad he never did, Bao had constantly reminded her about the aggravated and distempered scowl he had ever present on his face as he ate. Norah pretended not to care about the faces he made at dinner, but deep in the back of her mind she knew it was something to worry about.
Erron Black didn't want her in the palace just as much as Norah, and she also didn't want to push her luck in seeing what he would do to remove her if he got the nerve to. Though she hated him, she still understood he was a deadly adversary; he wasn't a Kahn's guard for no good reason.
She tried to stray her thoughts elsewhere as she worked to remove the blood stains from the blouse she wore during her interrogation. However, with one hand scabbed over and providing little movement without tearing, it was taking her longer than expected; her work with the bread also suffered due to the little she could knead with one hand.
Norah, still in her baking attire and without her headscarf (it was a hot day and she did not feel like wearing it) currently devoted her time to clean up her uniform in the laundry area by the gardens. There were two other female servants that were tending to their work and didn't bother her just as she did not bother them.
The baker lifted the blouse from the water and frowned when her efforts weren't working as well as she thought they were.
Suddenly, she heard the sound of something splashing forcefully in the water and when she looked up, she noticed that the servants were rushing out and leaving their work unintended. Her eyebrows bridged as she watched them close the door and before she got the chance to turn around to see what it was that had obviously frightened them, she felt something cold placed against her throat.
Thinking it was something malicious, she reached under and pushed the hands of her attacker away from her throat while she scrambled to her feet. Her hands stayed out in front and she swore silently when she saw the scabbed mark on her wrist had slightly ripped open and felt small a patch of blood start to pour down her arm. Norah glared defensively at him despite the thing she thought was a malicious weapon was a teal necklace in his hands— her teal necklace.
The Edenian, who Matlal had mentioned was named Hulin, wore a grin on his face; almost as if he was surprised she had acted in such a way but didn't seem offended that she had done so. He was dressed the same, but his demeanor was friendlier and less intimidating. However, that didn't mean she forgot about the beating at his hand; she still had remnants of that day on her face and wrist.
"I apologize for startling you— it was not my intention," he said as he held up the necklace in his outstretched hand. "I was just trying to return the necklace that was left behind during our... conversation."
Norah eyed him suspiciously and then the necklace he held out for her to take. If he was trying not to startle her, there were certainly better ways not do so. He cleared his throat slightly and lifted the necklace a little more towards her as if he was giving her a peace offering.
She raised an eyebrow at him; recalling something he had said during their, conversation: "I thought my necklace was for your wife?"
He laughed at her question and shook his head, "I do not have a wife. I just did not want to damage your pretty necklace. It is alright. I will not harm you—you have already passed your test."
Norah sighed indignantly and with hesitant steps she came towards him and noticed he smiled in approval. As her hand went to take the necklace from him, his hand clamped gently on her unbranded wrist; enough to catch her attention and look at him.
He gave her a crooked grin as his eyes lit humorously at her, "Unless... you are offering," Hulin told her, his tone flirtatious.
Norah couldn't tell if he was simply trying to unnerve her or if he was serious and flashed him a bug-eyed look at his words.
"I was only teasing, my dear, " he said with a grin before he shrugged, "Can I at least know your name?"
She frowned, "Norah."
With a slight jerk, she pulled her hand and necklace from his grasp. A small twinge of discomfort filled her and she wished that she had refrained from telling him her name.
"Norah?" He tested the word like it was some strange dialect he was learning and raised a quizzical eyebrow at her: "Are you sure you are not from Earthrealm?"
The baker sighed with exasperation; she was getting tired of trying to convince others she was from Outworld. "Yes. I am quite sure."
Hulin raised an eyebrow at her, "I did not frighten you, did I?"
"You merely surprised me," Norah bit back; suddenly feeling rather annoyed with him.
Hulin smiled, amused by her obvious discomfort. "Well, I still wouldn't blame you for being somewhat apprehensive towards me — I have that effect I hear. Cannot imagine why."
Norah sucked her teeth at his egotistical but playful tone and before she could comment negatively about it, he took a step forward.
"I am pleased to see you healing well, my dear," Hulin said, his eyes darted to the necklace and he gave a toothy grin. "There are not many female cup-bearers that have made it through my evaluation."
"I am sure there are not many male cup-bearers that do either," she quipped back, a small tone of bitterness in her voice.
Hulin laughed softly at her. "Very true, although I have to admit that my sessions usually are more... detailed... than the one you had with me. Nevertheless, I thought you conducted yourself rather well."
Norah flashed him a cross expression, "Is there a purpose to this conversation?"
He remained placid despite her exasperated tone, "No. I was here to return your necklace. I shall leave you before I offend you any further."
Hulin turned away from her; the sardonic grin still present on his face as he walked away; however he still had parting words. "It was still a pleasure to interrogate you. Have a pleasant rest of your day, my dear. By the way, your wrist is bleeding."
He left after that and Norah let out a sigh of relief; more than glad he was gone and that no one was around to see her encounter with him. Norah looked down at the scabbed wrist and frowned when she saw the small, slender path of blood that had trailed down her forearm.
"Christ on a tortilla, that guy is greasy," she heard Carver's voice call out and Norah sighed when he came through the doorway.
"You heard us talking?" Norah asked with a sigh as she wiped the trail of blood from her arm.
"Unfortunately," Carver said before an angry grimace ran over his face, "Am I high on glue or did I hear him ask you to marry him?"
Norah frowned and, unfortunately, gave Carver the answer at the same time. The Earthrealmer's face pulled into a disgusted look before he rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Why you are here, Carver?" Norah suddenly questioned, wanting to change the subject to anything else.
"Huh? Oh, Greasy was looking for you, and I thought I stand by to make sure he didn't do anything weird," Carver said with a shrug.
"You have failed miserably if that was your intention," Norah told him with a pointed look and Carver laughed sheepishly.
"No, but seriously," Carver continued before he jerked a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "The Wicked Witch of the West is looking for you. She has a contract for you to sign."
Norah sighed indignantly, wishing he had been truthful about his first intentions for standing outside the door. With a grimace, she grabbed her wet blouse, twisted the water from it and hung it to dry before she walked in the direction of the kitchen with Carver following her.
"Make sure you read the entire thing before signing," Carver warned her. "Knowing Tama she probably has a clause in there somewhere to fuck you over and she doesn't exactly hand out copies to keep."
Norah nodded her head; knowing Tama, Carver was probably right. She had dreaded this for a long time now and she was not looking forward to it when the day finally came. She had not signed Tama's legal contract that officially debt-bonded her to and she was somewhat relaxed with the prospect of still having some semblance of freedom these past couple of months.
Now, it would be official after today; she would be bonded to Tama until she saw fit to free her. After everything that woman had done, she would of much rather still been under Erron Black's employment.
Norah flashed Tama a mistrustful look when she saw her leaning outside the door of the kitchen with a small parchment rolled in her hands. The older woman simply nodded at her, gave her that aggravating false, friendly maternal smile, and walked inside the door— expecting Norah to follow her while Carver gave her a hesitant look.
"If she asks for your first born child to sacrifice to Satan, tell her no," Carver jested. Norah rolled her eyes and followed Tama into the kitchen and saw her waiting by the preparation table to catch up.
"Your contract is ready to sign," Tama informed her plainly, "If you would follow me, please."
Her employer turned away from her and led her from the kitchen and towards the direction of her room with Norah following reluctantly behind. As she continued to follow Tama through the corridors, Norah regretted not being able to come up with a single excuse that would buy her some time to avoid signing over the contract. She knew that Tama always had something up her sleeve, and the baker was not looking forward to being on the losing end that seemed to be customary between her and Tama. She always found a way to win.
Tama opened the door to her room and let Norah walk inside first before she shut the door behind them.
Unlike Norah's room, Tama's was decorated and furnished much finer than her stuffy little broom closet and also unlike her room, had a window. The afternoon light brightened the room and casted Tama's room in a relaxing glow that Norah would have felt comfortable in if the room didn't house a snake as its occupant. Tama had a bed with dark red sheets and pillows but out of everything it was the simplest thing in the room.
She had several knick-knacks on her desk and vases that looked older than Norah was, and she found herself lost in intricate and delicate designs of the vases that sat nearby the fireplace. The knick-knacks looked like something she had collected for a while, and she noticed the main theme of them looked like they were from Earthrealm.
She saw a necklace that had a gold chain and single pearl. A simple gold ring that looked like it fit on a man's finger. A gold locket. A dirty orange handkerchief and a small wooden box that looked the most out of place.
She noticed Tama staring at her intently, and she fixed away from the collection on her desk as the older Outworlder took her seat. Norah stood in front of the desk and noted several documents on the desk but couldn't make out what was written on them before Tama caught her attention.
Tama unrolled the parchment that was thick and handed it over to Norah to read.
"This contract has been written with your cup-bearer services added to the agreement," Tama began. "You will notice in the second paragraph that as long as you continue to serve both occupations as the baker and cup-bearer, your time will remain reduced. However, if you choose to lose either job, your time is subject to change. I have estimated your time here to last about 20 Earthrealm years instead of 40. I have based this upon the special circumstance that while you are born in Outworld, you still age like an Earthrealmer and have reduced the time quite severely."
"How considerate of you..." Norah thought bitterly.
"The contract also states your limits in regards to what you are privy to in keeping your job," Tama said sternly, "You are debt-bounded and until you either work of your debt or a third party agrees to pay for your remaining debt. You are to complete all duties assigned and the terms set. You are to show up for each assigned duty prepared to accomplish any task. If under the circumstance you find yourself pregnant, you will make up the time lost after you are fit to return to duty. Let us hope you are smarter than Méh-è in regards to the latter."
Norah flashed a dour and sarcastic smile before she read over the contract; so far everything that Tama had said read true on the paper, but frowned when she read over the punishment clause in the contract.
...If the indebted chooses to object to all assigned duties and/or leaves without permission from the contract holder to do so, indebted is no longer seen fit to uphold the terms and conditions of the contract and shall be executed and/or punished in a manner seen fit by the contract holder.
Flee and die; that was all Norah could see hiding under the mess of words and she read it loud and clear. There was also a small part about marriage in the contract that Tama had chosen not to bring up like the punishment clause and Norah glossed over that section.
If indebted is engaged to wed during their time of service...indebted's husband or wife may choose to buy contract...
Norah didn't see that happening any time soon and looked over the rest of the document, making sure she memorized every scribbled word. There wasn't much to the document, and it seemed very straight-forward, however, knowing Tama, she did not see it as innocent as the older woman would have hoped.
Tama cracked a smile when Norah brought the document near the window and let the rays of the sun bleed through the paper as if she was looking for hidden messages that would be unveiled by the action.
"Are you ready to sign your agreement?" Tama asked. The baker looked away from the window, gave the parchment one last look in the sunlight and sighed. Norah walked over to her desk and placed it flat on the table while Tama dipped a quill-pen in a cup of ink and handed it to Norah.
The baker held the feather pen with trepidation as she looked at the blank line on the page like it was a giant centipede in front of her. Norah looked over at Tama, who was waiting impatiently to sign and narrowed her eyes at her when she realized Tama seemed a little too eager. The smile she had on her face was unnerving even though she tried to hide it under her calm demeanor. Norah could see it all in her eyes as she looked at her like a snake that had prey stumble across its path. Something was not right about this...
"I honestly do not see why I need to sign a contract," Norah stated her, letting the quill pen fall slightly to her side as determination replaced hesitance. "Is my word and the threat of death over my head, not enough to convince you that I will work off the debt?"
Tama smiled cynically at her, "The contract is here to guarantee legally to anyone that has their doubts that you are under my employment. We can agree to the terms verbally but if someone was to argue that you are here illegally then I have no proof to say that you are not. You would be executed the very next day. Sign the contract."
Norah glared at her; she knew what she was saying— sign it, or I will find a way to execute you. There was always a dark, hidden undertone to Tama's words and she was beginning to notice them more and more. Norah, unfortunately, knew that she was very good at covering every corner and providing no escape. She must have been manipulating people for decades.
Bitterly and regrettably, Norah signed the contract; the pen pressed so deeply in the parchment she started to bend the quill's tip and all but threw the pen on Tama's desk.
"It must be very tiring for you to constantly get what you want," Norah spat, her words soaked in resentment.
Tama returned an arrogant smile, "Not as tiring as you may think." Tama's eyes darkened, and Norah wanted nothing more than to rip apart the paper, leap across the table and force-feed Tama the contract.
But instead she exhaled angrily out of her nose as she watched the ink start to slowly dry on the parchment. Norah felt a heavy frown creep onto her face and felt repulsed with herself despite how unavoidable she knew this moment was. In the back of her mind, she knew that Tama would have forced her to sign the contract in some manipulative manner. Despite how simple the contract appeared, Norah wasn't certain that was all that there was to it.
Tama took the contract from her and waved hand absently towards the door, excusing her. The baker didn't say anything and instead exited out the door with a heavy feeling that she was going to regret not finding out what her scheme was.
Unbeknownst to her, Norah was correct to have her suspicions, because as soon as the door closed, Tama brought out another document. It was almost identical to the contract that Norah had just signed with a few added clauses and the paper was so thin that it was brittle— almost transparent.
Tama carefully laid both parchments over each other, Norah's freshly signed document on the bottom and smiled when she took a small blunt end of a stick and began to poke delicately at Norah's signature. Little by little, Tama watched as the ink started to bleed from the bottom and coat the blank line of the other document with a smug smile.
She lifted the thin document and smiled in satisfaction when she saw the signature on the new document and looked completely passable— as if this was the document that Norah herself had signed.
Tama placed Norah's old copy into the fireplace for burning before she placed the thin copy of the document down on a thicker piece of paper, using adhesive to bind the two.
Even if Norah did discover that the document was forged, there would be no evidence to prove it.
It would be her word against Norah's.
And no one ever trusted the word of a slave.
Norah had just finished changing into her cup-bearer uniform when she found Bao waiting outside the door for her.
"It appears the Kahn would prefer to dine in his room tonight, and the others will also do the same," Bao informed her with a slight shrug.
Norah nodded, "So we are to bring their dinners or is that for the other servants?"
"They are unmarked and the Kahn prefers we deliver to them since we have proven we can be trusted. Besides, their chamber servants are not required until the morning. At least, after we are done delivering to their rooms, that is all that will be required out of us tonight. Do not forget that they will have to excuse you before you may leave in case they require anything."
Norah nodded, a few extra hours of sleep would be nice to have, although she did not like the idea of having to wait to be excused.
"Unfortunately, you will have to deliver to Ferra/Torr and Erron Black alone. I have to deliver to Ermac and Reptile, but as soon as I am finished I will come find you," Bao instructed.
Norah sighed heatedly at having to deliver to Erron Black's room, and she was unsure what to expect from Ferra; speaking of which: "Where are Ferra and Erron Black's rooms?"
"Erron Black's room is in the west hall, near the training courtyards. Should I have Bert or Carver walk with you?"
"No, I can manage on my own," Norah nodded. She knew that Bert and Carver were very tired and she had become somewhat accustomed to the palace. The boys were very sweet, but she didn't see the need to constantly have them as a bodyguard and did not see finding Black's room to be a problem. She just did not want to deliver to the mercenary.
"And Ferra?"
"Ferra will be on the other side of the door where Torr's food is delivered. When she is not at the dining hall she is with Torr," Bao explained. "You may have to open the door to give Ferra her meal."
Norah's eyes widened fearfully.
Bao wanted her to do what?!
While Ferra usually only demanded water or bread from her, she was not as afraid as her as she was of her symbiotic counterpart— especially after what happened a couple of days ago.
Norah almost had her arm ripped off when Torr had been waiting outside the slot and had reached through it with his hand. If Norah had not been paying attention, she would have most certainly been grabbed by him. She could still see the red eye that had looked through the slot after withdrawing his hand and his heavy breathing on the other side. After that, she was terrified of getting near the door— let alone opening it.
Bao must have noticed her terrified look and cleared his throat, "Would you rather deliver to Ermac and the Zaterran instead?"
Norah pulled herself from her thoughts when she heard Bao's question: "Ermac still frightens me, and I do not think Reptile likes me very much. All he does is snarl and scowl when he sees me."
"Yes I have noticed and do not feel too offended," Bao reassured her, "He still barely tolerates me."
Tama's son looked down the hallway to see Bert walking towards them and signaling to them that the food was ready. As Bao and Norah walked in the direction of the kitchen, she felt him looking at her, and she turned slightly to acknowledge his somewhat doubtful and concerned expression.
"Try and avoid conflict with Erron Black," Bao pleaded, almost as if he knew his words carried little weight. "After what I keep seeing at dinner each night, he is still rather annoyed with you."
Norah scoffed, "Do you think that I purposely look to start a conflict with him? He is the one that has something rude to say— not me."
"Yes, but you feed it to him," Bao pointed out with a frown. "I know you think of him as a parasite in your side but stop giving him a reason to dislike you. Just do not speak to him if he has something to say. Also, you do not always need to be so quick to argue with him."
Norah shot Bao an angry look, and he sighed in defeat, "Norah, just try. You will be around each other for some time, why not make it somewhat tolerable?"
The baker shook her head and frowned scornfully at Bao's words, "I know there is some truth to what you are saying, but I am not sure how well that will work."
They entered the kitchen and Carver passed over one of the trays towards Norah's direction. "Here you go Norah; it's poisoned— especially for Black," Carver winked at her and turned to Bert who flashed him a frown.
"Don't let a guard catch you saying that," Bert told him.
"Yeah, yeah I know, or they'll be painting the roses red with a gallon of Carver's blood," Carver said with a roll of his eyes.
"It ain't funny, Carver," Bert scorned.
The younger Earthrealmer whistled an upbeat tune at Bert's comment that Norah did not recognize and before she could grab her serving tray with Erron Black's food on it, Bao reached over and did it for her. He handed it to her and shot her an almost pleading look.
"Just ignore him," Bao reminded her. Norah grimaced and took the tray, a deep and heavy feeling of dread sinking in her as she made her way towards Erron Black's room and into whatever argument she knew was coming for her.
Erron Black sat in his chair sourly and passed the time cleaning his guns while he waited for his food to arrive. He knew who would be bringing it and when her face flashed through his mind, he scowled.
He was getting severely tired of her and he was also getting tired of seeing that damned mark on her wrist. It kept reminding him that she was not going anywhere soon.
Her smug demeanor the day after her branding had sent him on an angry downward spiral and now he wanted nothing more than to see her gone. The more he thought about it, regrettably he found out it was somewhat his damned fault. He should have never gone into that tavern and made that ridiculous deal to bring him whiskey.
Erron rolled his eyes at the thought and pushed it away. It wasn't his fault. It was hers for not being able to pay her rent and whatever Tama's strange interest in her was. Erron was just caught in the middle and stuck dealing with a whiny brat he couldn't stand.
He grumbled and clicked the cylinder back into place before he reached for the other revolver to clean. As he began to work, he felt the corner of his mouth pull up in thought as he stared down at his freshly cleaned pistol...
Well, there was always one way he could get rid of her.
His eyes shot irritably to the door when he heard a knock and then back to his revolver as if he was considering it for a moment.
Black heard her knock again on the door but didn't rise from his chair to answer it. Instead, he decided to make her wait until he was done; she was his servant after all.
Another knock came at the door and he didn't look up as he wiped down the barrel of his gun and worked to clean the chambers of the cylinder with a small bristled brush.
Minutes dragged on, and he heard her sigh impatiently from the other side that before he snapped the cylinder back into place. He was done cleaning, but he gave her another couple of minutes. After that, he rose slowly from the chair and walked over toward his door. He couldn't help but notice that the closer he got, the more his face dropped into a frown and by the time he opened the door and saw her, he had a scowl on his face.
She held the tray in front of her and after her attention had fixed on the door from him opening it, she chose to cast her glare off to the side and waited for him to take the tray from her. He felt himself quirk an eyebrow at her and took the tray from her.
"Is it poisoned?" he asked sarcastically.
She continued to glare off to the side, but saw the corner of her mouth flicker up in a brief smile as if she recalled something before it dropped back into her tart look.
Her silence sent a small spark of annoyance through him, "You forget how to talk or do you see yourself as too high and mighty now since you got that thing burned on your arm?"
Erron noticed that she clenched one of her fists slightly before reopening it, and he smiled when he saw it was apparent she did not like his quip.
Knowing that she was not to be excused until he gave her permission, he walked inside his room and placed his tray of food on his table by his firearms. He glanced at them briefly for a moment, wondering if he should pick them up but brushed the idea away when he didn't feel like putting on his gun belt. He had already settled in for the evening, and the only thing he had on was the black sleeveless undershirt, his pants and boots on.
After he put the tray down he walked back to the door and lingered there, enjoying that she was impatiently waiting for him to excuse her and decided to let the minutes drag. Erron could tell she knew what he was doing and waited crossly with her eyes on the door frame in silence to make up his mind.
Good. Get it in your head I'm in charge.
She looked at him, a professional demeanor trying it's best to remain on her face, but he could see nothing but irritation in her gaze: "Is there anything else that you need?"
Her tone was bitter and she said it through her teeth, causing him to smile coldly in amusement at her.
"Well, aren't you little miss polite," Erron remarked with a smirk before it fell into a stern look.
Both of her fists clenched tightly to the point of shaking and Black smirked in satisfaction at it. He wasn't sure why she was choosing to be as quiet as she was— she certainly had no problem yelling at him before— but he was enjoying that she was leaving herself open as an easy target for him.
After a week of stewing angrily, he decided to let her have it.
"If there is nothing else—"
He cut her off, "Actually, there's one thing I've been wantin' to know."
He heard her sigh slightly under her breath as she shifted from foot to foot before she finally looked at him and waited. Truthfully, there was something he did want to know ever since she took up her cup-bearing job and even more after she had gotten the brand stamped on her wrist.
The mercenary crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head towards her slightly, "Was it worth it to get branded like a cow just so you could spit in my eye?"
Her eyes narrowed in confusion at his question, almost as if she had no idea what he was talking about, but he could tell she felt insulted nonetheless.
Erron had thought about her reasons to be a cup-bearer for a long time and the only speculation he could come up with was that it was an opportunity to cause him further grievance. He knew that she was childish enough to do it and probably had known about the initiation beforehand from that kid that she hung around constantly. In fact, he was almost certain that was what had happened— especially after the gloating she did the day after she had gotten her mark.
"So, how's that petty vendetta of your's workin' out?" Black asked, a dark grin tugging at the corner of his mouth almost triumphantly.
It took her a second but as soon as she figured out what he was getting at, she scoffed at him and gave him an angry and bewildered look about what he was accusing her off. After a moment, she shook her head at him and he could sense that her silence had reached its end.
"You think I wanted to be branded? Just for an opportunity to provoke you?!" she questioned disdainfully, her tone bordering on flabbergasted. Her eyes darkened at him and a scowl came over her face. She took a step forward, a furious disposition on her face as her fists tightened, and he returned her gesture with an unimpressed look.
"I wanted NOTHING to do with you after everything you have done to me!" Her voice wavered angrily, her entire body trembling with rage. Apparently, she had been bottling this up for a while to say to him and it was obvious in her body language, but it didn't sway him.
He scoffed at her words, "I haven't done a damn thing to you."
The sarcastic laugh of disbelief at his words caused him to narrow his eyes angrily at her as she shook her head. She ran her hands over her face and exhaled into them, almost as if she was preparing to give him some stirring speech. She removed her hands from her face and gave him a questioning look before she asked a simple question.
"What have I done to you to make you treat me as cruelly as you do?"
Erron uncrossed his arms from his chest and took a step forward, his form towering over hers but much to his displeasure she didn't falter too much under it.
"Besides testin' my patience? I don't think I need any more of a reason," He didn't particularity like what he had told her despite it being the truth. She did annoy him but as he thought about it, it was somewhat of a weak excuse.
She gave him almost a disappointing look, "That is all? I annoy you. That is your reason?!" Her eyes narrowed irately at him and her voice dropped to an angry whisper, "Do want to know what it is that you have done to me?"
"I don't really give a shit," he answered honestly with an exasperated sigh, "but I'm sure I'll hear it anyway."
"Ever since you forced that deal—that I did not even want to partake in— you have been nothing but rude to me," she began, her voice deepening into the lowest he had heard from her. Conveying the distemper she felt for him loud and clear.
Erron rolled his eyes at her, "Cry me a river..." he shot coldly.
She glowered at him but continued, "You hardly paid me for a service that I provided despite the one error I made with that horrible clear liquid— which you used to humiliate me. You dragged me to the palace against my will, but all that is nothing compared to what you have stolen from me in the end."
His eyes darkened at her words, and he took a threatening step towards her, making her shrink back slightly under his ire stare, "And what's that?" he asked lowly.
Honestly, he did not really feel any remorse about what she had told him he had done to her. She had deserved it by being the stubborn ass she was, but he was curious to know what tribulation she had on her mind and eager to shoot it down.
She took her own step forward and he felt slightly entertained by her small show of bravado despite the stern expression he wore on his face.
"I saw the way you looked in my direction when Rhen and the others came," she told him in a vehement whisper. "I could see that you were considering of helping me, even if for a moment— and do not deny it. I saw it and you know I did..."
Erron frowned slightly at her words; she just had to bring that up and what bothered him the most, was that he knew she was right. For a millisecond, he did think of helping her but he hadn't and he had forgotten about it until she reminded him of it.
He caught the sight of her wiping a frustrated tear from her eye sharply with her hand, her spiteful expression still present as she continued.
"All you had to do was lift your gun, shoot him in the back of the head and we would not be trapped in each other's company"— her eyes narrowed hard at him—"but you chose to turn your back and walk away. My father died that day. Did you know that? I lost everything because you could not take a moment to help when I could see that you wanted to and you knew I needed it."
Her eyes welled up with tears for a moment and she blinked them back. He said nothing and watched as her face twisted in embarrassment that she was crying in front of him before she wiped the few tears that had gotten away.
Even though he wanted to silence his guilt, he knew that she was right about what she had said, but her words still annoyed him. However, he knew that no matter what he said in debate, it would be a lie to tell her that she was wrong.
"And then... you brought me here for whatever purpose Tama is after through me and you robbed me of the little freedom I had left. It may not have been your intention that you may have been doing your job, but you played your part in it as well. Yet you have the nerve to tell me that the only reason you can think of why you despise me as much as you do is because I annoy you? That I am the one who carries the petty vendetta?"
"You wanna hear me say 'sorry' is that it?" he asked bluntly, his tone uncaring.
Her teeth bared at him as her eyes engulfed into fire at his unsympathetic tone, "I will not ask something from you that I know you will never say! All I want is for you to know that I am not seeking revenge or an apology because I know for certain now that you only care about yourself and why you are as friendless as you are!"
Erron gritted his teeth at that and before he could say anything she had already turned her heel and began to storm away from him. He fumed as he watched her leave, her words aggravating him and burrowing deep.
Unfortunately, and he kicked himself for it, the only thing he could come up was: "I didn't say you could leave!"
She shot him an irate glare over her shoulder and shouted at him: "I don't give a shit!"
For a moment he regretted that he didn't grab his guns because when he heard her throw his words back at him, he would have probably shot her in the back of the head for that. He certainly had killed for less. Instead he opted for turning on his heels and swinging the door behind him with a hard slam, her words echoing in his head like the buzzing of bees.
He clenched his fists as his eyes landed on his freshly cleaned revolvers on his table, begging to be shot now that they were pampered, and boy did he have a target in mind. Erron went over to his chair and sat in it as his eyes flickered between eating or shooting.
He tapped his finger against the surface of his desk and sighed irritably.
If he chose to eat, he was telling himself that he didn't care about her troubles and that it was nothing to him. If he chose to pick up his guns and go after her to end this, he was giving in to the fact that she had gotten to him. For some reason, he found it to be a difficult decision to make.
He wasn't in the mood to eat anymore and bitterly discovered that she was very good at making him lose his appetite. His eyes landed on his guns and he narrowed his eyes intently at them, truly feeling the scale tip further in their direction.
After not giving it a second thought until now, he started to feel the guilt he had for not assisting her the day he left with Reptile return to him, in addition to the anger he felt that he knew that she was right about one detail.
He really could have just shot the weasel in the back of the head and been on his way. The truth in her statement made him unwillingly feel more regret and he found himself even angrier at the thought.
He was tired of this. He was tired of her and he hated that she was right. It set his nerves on fire and he reached over for the revolvers and picked them up, along with his gun belt and walked out his door with his food left untouched.
Erron placed the revolvers in their holsters and placed the belt to his hips as he exited his room and looked down the hallway in both directions.
He took a moment, felt an idea worm it's way into his mind and decided to go down the corridor in the opposite direction she had left.
He wasn't going to kill her; it would just make him feel guiltier if he did after her little martyr speech, but she did mention something, or rather someone that could get rid of her and perhaps be beneficial to both of them.
It didn't take long for Black to find Tama's room and he didn't bother knocking before he entered. She sat at her large desk looking over several documents and only seemed a little startled that he had barged in. After her small shock she looked at him and then back down at her documents as if his presence didn't matter to her.
Erron flashed a look at her; irked that she disregarded him: "I want her gone."
Tama looked up briefly and then shrugged indifferently at his forceful request. "She has a large debt to pay, and she has already signed a contract to repay it."
"What debt?" he questioned indignantly.
Tama flashed him a small smile, almost as if she was surprised that he had asked: "For me hiring your services to fetch her. Such a small task did not come cheaply if you recall."
Erron's fists tightened at her arrogant tone. If he had known, he would have never agreed to take her money.
"I don't care— get rid of her," Black spat, his tone low; losing his patience.
Tama continued to keep the calm and cocky expression on her face as she looked at him and he thought of pistol whipping her for the look alone. "I'm afraid there is nothing you can do. She is here until she works off her debt."
Erron lifted one of his guns from his holster, "There's plenty I can do."
Tama's smile vanished from her face and she responded to his threat by leaning back in her chair; crossing her arms over her chest. "If she brings you such displeasure you should have not of agreed to bring her—you did not exactly refuse my deal. Did you think that she would be baking here freely? It was not charity; it was business and she will remain here no matter how you chose to threaten me. Her contract has been approved this morning and is under record. You will not accomplish anything by shooting me."
His hand tightened around the handle of his revolver as he tried to seek a way to counter her words, smiling slightly when he found his loophole.
"Any contract can be bought," he replied.
Tama's mouth lifted into a grin at his words, "She is not for sale. Her contract is not open for negotiating."
Erron stepped forward and cocked his gun at her head, "I wasn't asking nicely. How much?"
Tama did not falter under the sight of the barrel pointed at her, and he hated to admit that it annoyed him, but it did. The Outworlder looked at him with a small sense of pompous amusement and he felt his finger start to pull back on the trigger slightly.
"She is not for sale," she told him sternly, "I am somewhat surprised and curious to see you so rattled by a simple baker. If you are so livid at her presence here, you should not have brought her to the palace in the first place. Perhaps you should go grab an alcoholic drink to calm your nerves?"
Black fired the revolver and watched as Tama jumped when it missed her—intentionally— and embedded itself into the stone wall behind her. She turned her attention to the bullet hole in the wall behind her and shot him an enraged glare as smoke swirled around the end of the barrel of the gun he fired off.
"I won't miss next time" he informed her darkly, "And if you won't get rid of her, then I will."
"If your guilt will allow you to," Tama replied simply, a knowing smirk on her face. Black scowled at her and turned on his heels to leave, refraining from shooting her in the head like he wanted to. Instead, he opted for calling Tama on her bluff and finding the annoying little bartender that was the root of his temper.
Norah felt herself approach the heavy door with the slot at the bottom with more calm than she didn't think she would have when she went to feed Ferra and Torr.
After storming back to the kitchen to grab Ferra's tray, Torr's bread and stopping in the slaves' dining hall for Torr's bucket, she felt a heavy feeling of dread fill her at what had transpired between her and Erron Black. She had sincerely tried to heed Bao's words, to ignore him but he was unrelenting, and she couldn't take it anymore.
She wasn't planning on telling him everything she felt but after his assumption that she maliciously became a cup-bearer to annoy him, made her see red and she couldn't stop herself from spilling all the resentment she felt and letting him know her side of the story and how wrong he was.
Norah understood he did not like her; that was fine, but she certainly wasn't here to purposely aggravate him. In a way, she liked to think that if maybe Erron Black could see her viewpoint and things would be smoother between them. Unfortunately, she knew that she was certainly fooling herself.
He didn't care about what he had done to her and she was afraid that she may have annoyed him too much this time. From the little she had known, she could tell that he was not one to let her have the final say. There had always been a retaliation of sorts whether it was coming to the tavern to scare her or making her drink the clear whiskey. He was very used to being having the last word of the conversation and she knew that there would be something to follow.
Norah was very aware that she may have crossed a boundary that she might not be able to return from and for some strange reason, she was fine with it. A heavy weight had lifted from her shoulders when she had told him everything that he had done intentionally or unintentionally to her and she felt relief from it. Even if there was some consequence that would come later, she at least had finally let him know that she was not the one to blame.
On the other hand, she knew the consequences to come from such a melodramatic show would not be as simple as a slap on the wrist. Norah knew something worse was on its way and her chest felt tight with fear when she tried to speculate what he had in mind when he confronted her.
The baker stopped in front of the door, Ferra's tray in one hand and Torr's bucket and bread in the other, and sighed slightly under her breath as she placed the bucket down and knocked on the door. Perhaps Torr would be gracious enough to kill her quickly so she did not have to wait for Erron Black to do it.
She heard voices on the other side of the door and braced herself when she heard both the quick and thunderous footsteps run up the door.
"Who knock-knock?" came Ferra's screechy and child-like voice on the other side.
"Bread-lady," Norah replied, using the moniker Ferra always called her by.
"What Bread-Lady want?" Ferra asked sharply on the other side of the door, almost as if she was annoyed that Norah was bothering her.
"I have your dinner here and I have Torr's bread," Norah answered, her eyes flickered to the slot, "I will slide them through the slot for you both—"
"That ok—Torr say you can come in," Ferra interrupted on the other side. Norah's face dropped in disappointment; she was hoping to avoid opening the door.
Elder Gods damn it...
Regrettably, she placed Ferra's tray down and went to unbolt the door; she couldn't help but notice how slowly she did and felt fear enter here when she was unsure what to expect.
After she reached for the door, she let out a shaky breath and pushed it open slowly before she reached down to grab Ferra's tray and Torr's bucket that had his loaf of bread sticking out.
Ferra met her on the other side, but that's not who Norah saw first.
She had seen Torr from a distance a long time ago in the marketplace and she had recalled how she never wanted to get in the path of him. Now that she was standing in the doorway that he towered over, she wanted nothing more than to mold into the wall and disappear.
Torr was tremendously intimidating up close and it was not just due to his heavily muscled and tall physique, but also because of the macabre mysteriousness of the hooded and bloody burlap sack he wore over his head. He breathed haggardly like a massive beast and it was clear he had the same temperament and intelligence as one from first impression— it also made him even more dangerous.
She swallowed nervously and only took her eyes off him when she suddenly felt Ferra grab the plate from her and then the bucket. Her eyes fixed on her briefly and she noticed that Ferra gave her a frown.
"Torr scare Bread-Lady?" she asked her, her question clearly indicating to the frightened expression Norah knew she had on her face. She heard Torr grunt as well; almost as if he was asking the same question to her and Norah searched her mind quickly for the right thing to say.
"No... I was just... I was just wondering if Torr was happy with is bread... or if he wants me to make something else..?"
It was pitifully meek the way she had asked and she braced herself for one of Torr's meaty hands to come up and pummel her.
Ferra gave her a sudden, suspicious look, "Why Bread-Lady care if Torr like it?"
Norah felt her hands grow clammy and she wished she was back at her interrogation with Hulin instead of being questioned by the homicidal symbiotic pair.
"Because...I care… I do not want to give Torr something he does not like," Norah said, hoping it was the right answer.
Instead of anger, Norah watched as Ferra's face dropped and instead of a defensive scowl it softened. Almost as if she was pleasantly surprised.
Norah watched and held her breath as Ferra looked at Torr, as if wanting a second opinion about what she had said. The baker exhaled when she heard Torr grunt and nod his head; seemingly happy with her answer.
Much to Norah's displeasure, however, Torr leaned in towards her and it took all that she had not to shrink back when his massive head came level with hers; the red eye stared intently at her.
It was frightening and she felt his breath through the mask ghost over her softly as he looked her over, trying to decipher if she was a friend, and felt the seconds tick by unnervingly slow.
She kept her ground despite how much she wanted to flee, but she had the feeling the second she did Torr would attack her. She heard Torr inhale deeply as if taking in her scent. Norah couldn't help but stare at him in confusion when he did but breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped back and she reclaimed her safe space away from him.
Torr suddenly grabbed the bucket and bread, making Norah flinch slightly when he did it, stomped away and she finally got to see the outside area far more clearly now that Torr's hulking form did not block it.
It was a simple stone courtyard with a large tree in the middle. She noticed that various piles of junk lay by the base of the tree and by the looks of it, seemed to be Ferra and Torr's personal things. They varied from torn pieces of ratty curtains, large pieces of branches that looked like they had been broken off from the tree, a small metal trunk that was hiding behind the tree and a blue hammock that swung high in the canopy. Other than that, there were random items from pots and pans, to trinkets and to skulls strewn about the place.
She caught Ferra looking at her with a studious expression and Norah smiled at her simply to not come across as rude. Like with Black, Norah started to get somewhat impatient as she waited for Ferra to excuse her. Norah gave her a confused look when Ferra looked down at the tray in her hand and then back to Norah with a sideways smile; almost as if she was contemplating asking her something.
Whatever it was, Norah never found out and without another word, Ferra darted off to join Torr and Norah took that as her cue to leave. Ferra and Torr sat under the tree together and ate while Norah slowly backed out and closed the door softly behind her, trying her best not to draw attention.
As soon as the door closed behind her she let a huge sigh of relief that she was not dead and began to walk back to her room although she doubted she would get able sleep that night...
She still had to worry about Erron Black.
It had not taken Erron much effort to track her down as he made his way down the kitchen staff's hallway quietly. He walked with a silent stride and one of his revolvers in his hand; if this was the only way he was ever going to get rid of her so be it.
He was still rather irate with her and even more so after the visit with Tama but in the back of his mind, he felt somewhat unsure he was going the right way about it. He cast the thought aside as much as he could— this would be the quickest way for the both of them.
Erron didn't owe her anything and he refused to feel remorse about what had happened to her.
She had pushed her limit and he was done with her.
This would be the end of it even if this was not originally what he had planned on doing.
Black came to the first door and listened intently on the other side of the wood for any indication that she might be awake. He heard what he thought was soft breathing on the other side and it was the clue he needed to figure out that she was asleep and he didn't bother with any formalities.
He reached for the handle and turned it, only to find that it was locked. Black took a step backward, brought his foot up and kicked hard, knocking the door open and nearly off its hinges.
The door swung open and poured light into the room as he stepped in. Erron easily found her in the tiny room and she had shot up from her cot, her eyes wide and full of panic when she saw him standing in her room.
After a couple of moments, he noticed that she started to regard him with an unsurprised expression that he wasn't fond of. She breathed heavily at him and he watched as her eyes glanced at the gun in his hand with trepidation and then back to him.
Black could tell she was afraid but she nodded her head understandably at him as she waited on her cot holding her breath. She had changed from her purple uniform into a long, simple white dress and it, unfortunately, made her look more vulnerable than the woman who had scorned him earlier; he didn't like it and it made him uncomfortable.
He threw away the thought, forgetting about it as he remembered why he was here and walked towards her menacingly; each step earning a heavier and shakier breath from her as he did.
Black stopped right in front of her and he immediately felt wrong about being here, especially with the way she stared up at him from her cot.
She looked up at him like an old dog that knew it was about to be put down and he felt guilt start to claw at him in the back of his mind. He technically did not have to do this; he only wanted to be rid of her... no if Tama didn't have any intention of removing her then he would do it.
Just get this over with.
He forced himself to recall his hatred for her and gripped the gun in his hand tightly, a glower forming on his face as he remembered all the aggravation she had caused him.
"You want an apology?" he asked with a bitingly low tone. "Here you go."
In the blink of an eye, he pressed the barrel of his revolver into her cheek and grabbed the back of her head roughly to keep her head steady. She yelped in surprise, her hand instinctively wrapping around the wrist that held the gun and tried to turn her head away from the gun in her flesh. He kept a firm grip on the back of her head as his hand tangled harshly in her hair and didn't allow her any movement.
She cowered, her eyes closing shut tightly when he pulled the hammer back with an ominous click. After a couple of seconds, she seemed to collect her thoughts and he watched as her face dropped into a look of morbid acceptance; realization sinking in.
She looked up at him, waiting for him to pull the trigger with a determined and angry look on her face as he dug the gun into her face.
"Go ahead then..." she said softly, her voice wavering with fear.
Erron was quite surprised by her simple answer. There was no blubbering, no pathetic whinny crying or incoherent angry screaming. Just a simple sentence and the understandable fear he could detect in her voice; he wasn't really expecting this and he glared at her, unconvinced that she thought he was serious.
"Just like that?" Erron asked her, doubting she was willing to just give up so easily. "You got nothin' else to say?"
He saw a terrified, but furious tear run down her face and could feel her trembling like a leaf, she knew he was not playing around and gave him an answer that hit him in the gut.
"J-Just do it... I am tired of waiting for you to pull the trigger... and it would be the nicest thing you have done..."
He had killed more people than she could imagine with the same gun he had pressed into her face and Erron had never given a single thought to any of the targets that had fallen by his hand. The only difference between them was that he had been paid to kill most of them and the others he hadn't had either deserved it in some way or had attacked him. She, unfortunately, did not fall into any category that would have allowed him not to hesitate in pulling the trigger.
She wasn't a target.
She had not done anything of malicious intent against him purposely.
She was not fighting back.
She was just... waiting.
She wasn't calling him on a bluff or begging for a mercy killing either. She was just telling him she accepted that he held the power whether she lived or not and the weight of the realization did not sit comfortably on his shoulders. What made it worse was that she didn't plead for her life either. She was just waiting fearfully for what his answer would be.
This was pitiful and in the back of his mind, he knew that the reason he was here was also a pitiful one. No matter how many times she had annoyed him, it was not a great excuse to make him kill her.
"Do you even know my name?" she asked him suddenly, her voice trembling with fright but also carrying resentment. Erron frowned instantly at the question.
Before when he had gone looking for her for Tama, he had not cared to know her name. Now he wished he had taken a better interest in finding out because now the question stung and made him feel even more like shit. She nodded her head bitterly at him, reading his answer clearly on his face.
"T-This... this should be easy for you then..."
Black sighed angrily at her. She was right— this should have been easy for him. So why was it so goddamn hard to just shot her? No matter how much he tried to remind himself to put his own thoughts first, to try and convince himself to kill her, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to do it. Everything about this was sad and pathetic and he hated it.
Erron knew he had to admit he had caused her more grief than she had caused him. He was the one at fault and if anyone deserved to have a gun pointed at them, it was him.
"Black... let her go," came an older and stern voice he recognized behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Robert, accompanied by the Outworld kid she hung around all the time, an old woman and another he didn't recognize watching from the doorway. Clearly fearful for the girl he was aiming his gun at.
Erron exhaled indignantly out of his nose, if he had any lingering feelings about killing her, they were wiped clean by the apparent audience he had now. He gave her one last stony look and with a slight jerk, released her and withdrew the gun from his face.
A look of confusion and relief flooded her face at the same time as she watched him angrily de-cock the revolver and stormed passed the people that lingered in the doorway. He could feel the irate and fearful glances shot his way but ignored them.
As he walked back to his room, Erron decided now was a good of time as any to finally cash in on that jar of moonshine he kept in his trunk in case he needed it.
There were too many thoughts running through his head that he needed quieting.
When Erron arrived at dinner that next day and he instantly felt the tension between them as strong as the hangover he had. The moonshine had done little to quell the guilty feeling he had still present within him and had only succeeded in making him feel worse, especially when he saw how she acted around him.
When he had walked in, she did not even look his way. Instead she had her eyes fixed downwards at the pitcher in her hand and when he had passed her, she tried to shrink even further into the wall she was pressed against. He sighed when he saw how things would be from now on between the two of them.
He felt guilty and she was now petrified of him.
Erron sat in his chair, thinking of ways to remedy and lift the suffocating and awkward pressure between them.
As much as he hated to admit it, he was the one that would have to make the first move and she most likely knew it as well. It would take some humility on his part he was not certain he had or wanted to show. However, if it made her feel better, than it would get rid of the guilt he felt off his back as well and they could both go on with their lives trying to ignore each other.
Kotal Kahn walked in and after that, Erron figured out what he would need to do.
As was customary, Kotal Kahn, Reptile and Ferra moved their water goblets to the side and signaled for the servants against the wall to serve them water.
For the first time since she had been assigned to give water to Ferra and him, he moved his goblet along with the others for her to give him water.
It was a simple gesture of good faith; a small, subtle signal to show her that he was no longer annoyed or frustrated that she was here.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell that she had noticed and finished pouring water in Ferra's goblet. Hesitantly, she approached his, poured water into his cup and he turned in her direction to watch her.
She was completely deadpan, almost to the point where it was too much and it sent another feeling of remorse through him that he was making her uncomfortable.
As dinner carried on, he managed to find another method he could use to smooth things with; a point that she had brought up that was perhaps long overdue, considering how long they knew each other.
Dinner ended sooner than he really wanted it to, not at all feeling so eager to embarrass himself like he was going to and waited until the others left, leaving him, the kid and her in the dining room by themselves.
Better late than never...
He stood and turned to face her and noticed she backed into the wall more when he did; obviously more than displeased that he was thinking of addressing her.
He swallowed the awkwardness he felt and looked at her intently with a blank expression.
Goddamit, this is stupid…
"I never did get your name," he stated, trying his best to soften his voice as much as he could.
For the first time since he entered the room, she looked at him and instead of fear he could see the unfathomable hatred that flared in her eyes and he immediately regretted asking. Apparently he had said the wrong thing.
Her chest rose up and down in anger, her nostrils flaring as she walked up to him slowly and scoffed at him. "And you never will."
Erron sighed irritably as he nodded his head in understanding, unsure whether to feel reprieve that he made an effort or disappointed she didn't accept his subtle apology. Either way, he felt caught in between the two emotions and he guess he could live with it.
He shrugged indifferently, "If that's the way you want it."
She didn't say anything, but he could tell she was still unrelentingly furious with him and it was all he needed to know. To be honest, he couldn't blame her.
He turned to walk away from her. She could be mad at him all she liked, but he knew she couldn't say that he didn't try and in a strange way, he felt settled.
She hated him and he didn't really care anymore.
It was the only thing that resembled close to an apology that he would ever let her pull from him.