CHAPTER SIX #2
I gave myself a mental shake. I needed to stop second guessing everything and get on with learning my master’s habits and routines, so that I might serve him well enough that he decided to keep me.
That was not something a dimari usually had to worry about.
Normally, once we’d bonded with our masters, that was it.
But I wasn’t bonded to this man. So arguably, if he wanted to send me away, he could.
“This is the bathroom,” my master said, opening the door to the next room down the hallway. “There are some towels in the closet in your room. Do you have your own toiletries in your bag, or do I need to get you some?”
“I have my own… Master,” I replied, saying the last word more softly than the rest. He was not happy with me calling him master, but addressing one’s master by their given name was entirely inappropriate. I hoped we would find a resolution to that problem sooner, rather than later.
But at the same time, I noticed an interesting conundrum.
If my previous master – my real master – had told me not to call him master, I would have been instantly compelled to obey him.
The nature of my bonding to him meant I was not capable of disobeying a direct order.
But as much as I might desire to please my new master, I felt no such compulsion to obey him.
So my ongoing use of the title was awkward, but at the moment, I couldn’t find a better solution to the problem.
My master merely nodded, apparently ignoring the title. He led me back to the other end of the house. “This is the living room. Winters can get cold, so the fireplace comes in handy. Given that it’s summer, I’m not using it much at the moment.”
I smiled as I took in the room. It was small but comfortable, with two long sofas, one facing the fireplace, and one facing the wall screen.
There was a rack beside the fireplace, half-filled with logs, and I anticipated that chopping the wood and bringing it into the house would be one of my duties, come winter.
It was also heartening to know there was a room where my master and I might be able to sit together, to talk about the day, or share ideas on how to care for a particular animal.
I knew nothing about animal care at this point in time, but I was sure I could learn, given some appropriate instructions.
But perhaps I was making too many assumptions. Would I be allowed to sit in here? Or was this a space for my master alone? My previous master had never invited me into his private spaces. I wished I had some clearer instructions about what my new master expected of me.
Last of all, we went into the kitchen. There was a small, round table that could seat four at one end of the room, then the kitchen itself was surprisingly spacious.
It was neat, though there were a few dirty dishes in the sink and the floor looked like it could use a good mopping.
My master had not yet given me any specific chores to do, but in most households, a dimari would be expected to keep the house clean and tidy.
If I’d been trained as a domestic servant, I would also be expected to run the administrative side of the house – paying bills, ordering groceries, arranging repairs – but given that I’d been trained as an erotic companion, I wasn’t sure what my master would expect of me.
I hardly thought he would have any great use for my sexual skills, given that he lived here alone.
“There’s plenty of food in the fridge and the pantry,” he said, opening cupboards and showing me where things were kept.
“So you’re free to make your own breakfast and lunch, however that fits around your work schedule.
I’ll plan out some shifts for you this afternoon.
When it comes to dinner, it’s probably easier if I cook something for both of us…
Actually, do you know much about cooking?
I read somewhere that dimari are usually pretty good at it. ”
My chest swelled a little at the implied praise. I hadn’t been allowed to do much in the kitchen at the hotel other than chopping vegetables. “Yes, Master. I’ve had extensive training in cooking for a variety of cultures. I would be very happy to cook for you.”
“Awesome,” my master said, looking relieved.
“I mean, I can slap a meal onto a plate, but it’s never terribly fancy.
Oh, and while I think of it, there’s a grocery delivery service that links to your…
Well, no, it will link to your comm, once I get you one,” he interrupted himself.
“In the meantime, you can use this one,” he said, gesturing to the house-comm that was fixed to the wall near the entrance to the kitchen.
“If you need anything that I don’t already have, you can just add it to the list here, see?
” He showed me the buttons to press… but sadly, they meant little to me.
I couldn’t read the script the comm was set up to use.
“They deliver twice a week to the reception desk, and Bo lets me know when it’s arrived.
I don’t tend to…” He stopped suddenly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around sheepishly.
“I don’t tend to want to go out much,” he finished quietly.
I simply nodded, not sure what else to say. It was not my place to question my master’s schedule.
“Okay, so I’ve got to go and feed the animals, but before I do, do you have any questions? Is there anything else you need?”
Oh, thank goodness he’d asked. Interrupting one’s master was very rude, but I was still attempting to follow the normal protocols of politeness and respect, regardless of the fact that I was not compelled to obey my master.
And the one task he’d explicitly given me to do would have been impossible without the chance to clarify the problems. “I’m sorry, Master, but I cannot read Alliance Common.
I was taught the Eumadian, Basubian and Fortusian scripts.
If we can change the comm to display one of those, then I should have no problem ordering groceries. ”
“Oh heck, I hadn’t even realised… Oh, that’s something else Aiden said,” he pulled himself up, his expression turning somewhat alarmed.
“If I ever give you an order to do something, and it’s causing you pain, or it’s going to harm you in some way, I want you to tell me straight away.
It’s never my intention to harm you, but while I’m learning about your skills and your culture, I might accidentally tell you to do something dangerous.
So if I do, please tell me. Do you understand? ”
“Yes, Master,” I said, feeling rather pleased about the instruction.
If he’d been my true master, I would have found the notion odd.
Why would anyone buy a dimari if they didn’t know how they were trained, or what their physical needs were?
But my new master had not intended to buy me, and so it was perfectly reasonable that he didn’t know much about dimari training.
And it was reassuring to know he was concerned about my safety.
“Great. And yes, you can change the script that’s displayed. You just press this button here,” he said, demonstrating, “then it’ll respond to voice commands to change the script.”
Fortunately, thanks to the translator implanted behind my right ear, I was able to understand the language my master was speaking, or any one of about four hundred other languages that had been programmed into the handy little device.
“I’ve got to go and feed the animals, but I’ll leave you here to settle in.
You must have a lot on your mind. And I’ll read that instruction manual this evening,” he added, letting me know he hadn’t forgotten.
“And then tomorrow, I’ll show you around the sanctuary and start teaching you how to care for all the different species. ”
He headed out the door, leaving me alone in the house.
I felt an immediate sense of loss, and a crushing loneliness as the silence settled in around me.
So this was going to be much like my last position, I realised, with more disappointment than I wanted to admit.
One more master who barely spoke to me and who didn’t want my company.
I went back to my room, intending to unpack my meagre belongings.
It was not appropriate to think ill of one’s master, and though I had heard tales during my training of masters who showered their dimari with gifts, who treasured their company, who saw them as members of their family, that had not been my experience since I’d arrived on Rendol 4.
But once I got to my room, I couldn’t quite face the task of unpacking the few items in my bag, and the accompanying reflections that one small bag of clothes was the sum total of my achievements for the past three years.
I sank onto the bed and stared out the window at the pale leaves of the tree just outside, and beyond it, the flowers adorning the row of bushes at the edge of the garden.
Under different circumstances, this would be a beautiful place.
Peaceful. Happy. But what was the point of beauty if there was no one to share it with?
My life had changed so thoroughly and so dramatically in the course of just a single day. And yet all the things that really mattered had unfortunately seemed to stay very much the same.