Silks and Schemes
32 Saun 716
“We’re becoming Rylon’s errand boys these days,” Liarra whined as she and Kyeran walked through the streets, trying to find their employer’s favorite tailor to pick up his clothes. Unconsciously, her hand wandered to the sword strapped to her waist. “I should have gone ahead and joined the war efforts.”
By this time, her Aukarian companion didn’t even bother to look at her as they passed by another merchant hawking their wares under the relentless sun. She hated it. The heat. The brightness. The sweat pouring down her back. And Liarra didn’t hesitate to speak her mind, complaining the whole time they were outside. She had been through worse, if she wanted to be honest, but her protests got on Kyeran’s nerves and recently it was all she could get out of him.
It took at least half a break of one-sided conversation for Kyeran to finally sigh and say, “Have I ever told you that you talked too much?”
She rolled her eyes. “A million times, at least.”
Kyeran finally gave her the barest twitch of his lips. It wouldn’t be noticeable to those around them, but it was good enough for her. “We’re wasting time like this. We should split up. You go find the blacksmith and I’ll get Rylon’s clothes.”
“I’ll deal with the clothes,” the young woman replied swiftly. Her clothes mostly consisted of leather and they didn’t fit well with the sweltering heat. “I need new clothes anyway.”
After a beat, Kyeran sighed and tossed her the coin pouch. “Try not to waste all of them on a pretty dress.”
She didn’t pay much attention to the road in front of her as she searched for signs of the tailor. Neither did she saw the slave who was clutching a handful of books and hurrying her way through the streets. The two girls inevitably collided with each other. The book fell down with a series of thumps.
Catching herself before she fell, Liarra straightened with a slight stumble. The Naer’s eyes were immediately drawn to the collar around the girl’s pale neck. It was an obvious mark of slavery, if she had ever seen one. With her black hair and clear skin, it was possible to mistake her as one of her people, making the sight of the collar all the more disconcerting.
She had only learned that slavery was a somewhat sensitive subject outside of her motherland somewhat recently. It had been disorienting at first seeing men without either a brand, a collar, or chains wandering around the streets. It was even more perplexing to see the women looked down upon in these other cities. Liarra had caused at least a dozen broken noses during the first seasons of her exile. Even the slightest lewd comment was enough to make her spring. Liarra would have caused a lot more damage had Kyeran didn’t happen to be always nearby.
For him, Liarra had taken care not to talk about slavery. When she did and felt guilty, the Aukarian would tell her over and over again that it could be worse. That he was utterly grateful having met her, despite the circumstances. That he would do it all over again if it meant having the chance to know her. Still, Liarra remembered the golden anger in his eyes back when he was forced to fight for her people’s entertainment, the hard set of his jaw whenever her mother told him to fetch their food.
The thought made her a swallow a lump in her throat as she knelt down to pick up the books. Her eyes widened slightly as she read the titles briefly. Most of them were related to Rynmere nobility. It was odd enough to see a slave be allowed access to books, but perhaps she was a prized slave of some sort. She knew from experience that an owner would let slaves get away with most things if they were favored.
“Interesting reading,” Liarra commented with a smirk as she handed over the books.
By this time, her Aukarian companion didn’t even bother to look at her as they passed by another merchant hawking their wares under the relentless sun. She hated it. The heat. The brightness. The sweat pouring down her back. And Liarra didn’t hesitate to speak her mind, complaining the whole time they were outside. She had been through worse, if she wanted to be honest, but her protests got on Kyeran’s nerves and recently it was all she could get out of him.
It took at least half a break of one-sided conversation for Kyeran to finally sigh and say, “Have I ever told you that you talked too much?”
She rolled her eyes. “A million times, at least.”
Kyeran finally gave her the barest twitch of his lips. It wouldn’t be noticeable to those around them, but it was good enough for her. “We’re wasting time like this. We should split up. You go find the blacksmith and I’ll get Rylon’s clothes.”
“I’ll deal with the clothes,” the young woman replied swiftly. Her clothes mostly consisted of leather and they didn’t fit well with the sweltering heat. “I need new clothes anyway.”
After a beat, Kyeran sighed and tossed her the coin pouch. “Try not to waste all of them on a pretty dress.”
She didn’t pay much attention to the road in front of her as she searched for signs of the tailor. Neither did she saw the slave who was clutching a handful of books and hurrying her way through the streets. The two girls inevitably collided with each other. The book fell down with a series of thumps.
Catching herself before she fell, Liarra straightened with a slight stumble. The Naer’s eyes were immediately drawn to the collar around the girl’s pale neck. It was an obvious mark of slavery, if she had ever seen one. With her black hair and clear skin, it was possible to mistake her as one of her people, making the sight of the collar all the more disconcerting.
She had only learned that slavery was a somewhat sensitive subject outside of her motherland somewhat recently. It had been disorienting at first seeing men without either a brand, a collar, or chains wandering around the streets. It was even more perplexing to see the women looked down upon in these other cities. Liarra had caused at least a dozen broken noses during the first seasons of her exile. Even the slightest lewd comment was enough to make her spring. Liarra would have caused a lot more damage had Kyeran didn’t happen to be always nearby.
For him, Liarra had taken care not to talk about slavery. When she did and felt guilty, the Aukarian would tell her over and over again that it could be worse. That he was utterly grateful having met her, despite the circumstances. That he would do it all over again if it meant having the chance to know her. Still, Liarra remembered the golden anger in his eyes back when he was forced to fight for her people’s entertainment, the hard set of his jaw whenever her mother told him to fetch their food.
The thought made her a swallow a lump in her throat as she knelt down to pick up the books. Her eyes widened slightly as she read the titles briefly. Most of them were related to Rynmere nobility. It was odd enough to see a slave be allowed access to books, but perhaps she was a prized slave of some sort. She knew from experience that an owner would let slaves get away with most things if they were favored.
“Interesting reading,” Liarra commented with a smirk as she handed over the books.
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