Chapter Four #2
And now I have the pleasure of watching Iris appreciate it as much as I do.
She walks quietly ahead of me, her boots crunching in the snow as she constantly spins in a circle to take it all in.
The first thing I did this morning was get her out of the house so that workers could outfit it properly for her.
At first, it was just a means of distraction.
But as I watch her gasp as she stumbles across the foreign shape of our icicles, I find myself enjoying my time as well.
I don’t think I could ever get tired of the excitement I see on her face.
She’s wearing one of my coats to keep her warm, and though it swallows her, she seems to enjoy wearing it.
I considered bringing my servants with inhibitors back with me to care for Iris. I decided against it when I realized she wasn’t going to let what happened to her home go—not anytime soon, anyway. And since I plan on being with Iris for the rest of my life, I may as well learn to care for a human.
Unfortunately, I am off to a poor start.
Upon her arrival, I had no clothes for her and no food in my home since I do not need it to survive.
I was lucky she was too exhausted to realize she was hungry, giving me time to get food at least. I must also be more mindful of all the doors I install and refrain from leaving some open.
Humans are fragile. If I forget to feed her, if I leave passages open, she could die easily.
I know it will take getting used to having her here.
And as we pass by a bench and she moves to sit on it, oblivious of how fast her death would be in this weather, she reminds me of another warning.
“This is the edge of the courtyard. You must tell me before you come out here. You could freeze to death and not even realize it,” I say.
She scoffs, shifting her attention over the large space we covered, her eyes falling on the house above us. I can’t help but feel my warning went right over her head, as most of what I say does.
“So, you live all the way out here all by yourself?” she asks.
I nod.
“All of my siblings live very secluded because of who we are. It’s virtually impossible to access our homes without us to guide,” I say.
“From one prison to another,” she murmurs.
I can’t help but laugh, pulling her attention. She always takes the negative in my words, trying to decipher hidden meaning that isn’t there. All while ignoring what I’ve told her in the past.
“You are not a prisoner here. If you wish to go someplace, you may go. If you want to walk around outside, you can but you have to be mindful because it is deadly. The conditions on this planet are much different than Earth’s. That does not make you a prisoner,” I say, gauging her reaction as I do.
“I can only come and go at your whim,” she says, trying to find a flaw in my response. But I only shake my head, kneeling so that I am at eye level with where she is seated. I note her heartbeat speeds up as she watches me with wide eyes.
“That is only a temporary setback. Once you are settled, I will make all the necessary arrangements for you to live a free life...by my side,” I say, studying her.
Her cheeks flush even further, and I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or something I said. But she quickly stands, moving away from me and in the direction of the house. She pauses as she notices something—a pile of snow.
I watch her curiously as her footsteps falter.
She goes from testing the texture to playing in it, her attention focused as she smooths it atop the wide column, pulling it into a pile to shape it.
She continues to shape it until it is in a ball, and she holds it closer to her face, squinting before placing it back down.
She then moves onto more of the snow, doing the same thing.
I keep my distance, not wanting to startle her as she’s finally found something interesting.
She’s been snapping and crying since the departure of her planet.
It feels pleasant to see her enjoy herself, even if it is for a few seconds.
I won’t bother telling her this entire location is of my design.
She doesn’t know it, but this area in the mountains is my creation.
I wanted quiet and seclusion. And I love the mountains.
I created this mountainside and the home that is a part of it specifically to my liking.
She’d only force herself to outwardly hate it to spite me if she knew.
She finally finishes her little project, stepping back with a small smile of pride as she studies it. It looks like three balls stacked on top of one another, and I note that she has poked eye holes in it, and buttons on it.
I laugh.
“What is this?” I ask, stepping closer to her.
“It’s a snowman,” she says, studying it. After a moment, she looks at me, confusion in her expression.
“You don’t have snowmen here?” she asks.
I shrug. “Not that I’ve seen,” I say, eyeing the hideous little creature.
She turns back to the snowman, smiling.
“Well, they were all the rage during my childhood, anytime it would snow,” she says.
I watch her carefully as she stands, for once unburdened by the emotional strain of losing everything.
The more time I spend around her, the more I am intrigued by her.
The emotions I feel in her presence are something I haven’t experienced before.
I know I am selfish for holding fast to that feeling at her expense.
But it’s better than the emptiness that clawed at me for years.
She breathes in a sharp breath, stumbling slightly as she presses her fingers against her temples.
“Ah!” she whispers, but I am by her side, holding her close to me before she can collapse.
“What is it?” I ask.
She pulls in a deep breath, pulling away from me.
“My head...it’s pounding,” she murmurs.
I grab her before she can get too far, pulling her close to me.
“That’s enough touring for today. Let’s get you inside. It’s too unstable for you out here,” I say.
I see the disappointment in her expression, but she doesn’t argue with me, meaning her pain must be more than she’s letting on. So, I give her a smile in an attempt to reassure her.
“You’ll be able to come back once I get you a proper wardrobe. For now, let’s get you warmed up.”