CHAPTER 4
The station administrator leaves the moment he’s able to. Not a good sign. But I can’t blame him.
Ferrok’s mother looks just like him, except her skin is pale yellow, and her eyes are a soft blue.
Soft certainly isn’t how I’d describe the look she turns on me immediately after she releases Ferrok from a hug that would have broken my ribs.
I don’t understand the long string of words she says, but they clearly aren’t meant for me, just about me.
Ferrok looks at her, or down at the ground while she speaks.
“Why can’t Ferrok translate?” I turn my head and ask Mooralan as quietly as I can.
“It’s culturally unacceptable,” he whispers. “`You’re not supposed to speak for someone else. If she’d known about you, she would have learned English before she came.”
“In a week?”
“Probably less, even though it’s unnecessary.” He laughs again. “It’s one of the reasons she doesn’t like me.”
“Because you don’t care about the cultural faux pas of translating?”
“I don’t care about any of the ones that make no sense,” he says with a smile that I don’t think she’d like either.
“What are the other reasons she doesn’t like you?”
“The usual things a mother dislikes about the person she thinks her son is sleeping with.”
That makes me pause. “But you are sleeping with him.”
“I wasn’t when she decided she didn’t like me.”
An outraged string of words makes me flinch.
Mooralan laughs and looks away as she glares. “She just saw the bite mark on your neck and now she thinks I’m controlling you to control him.”
“Ah.” Well, that’s not good.
“Don’t worry, he’s denying it emphatically.”
I chew on my lip. “Is that going to make it worse that you’re translating for me?”
“Maybe.”
Finally, Ferrok and his mother turn to us. “Jade, this is my mother, Corre.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, looking at her, not Mooralan.
He repeats my words in Sovian while Ferrok looks at the ground. Irritated, I assume, with the inability to translate for me.
“Please tell her that I’m sorry we have to do this in a way that is uncomfortable for her.”
“She’s sorry too.”
She asks her next question, and Ferrok turns to her, answering it even though it was clearly meant for me.
“She wants to know how much to buy his debt. He’s attempting to explain that it won’t work, and that you don’t own him.”
“Tell her there is no price.”
He does, and she goes still.
“Tell her I’m not going to risk his life for her peace of mind.”
That starts a whole new argument that I cannot be a part of.
She may be old-fashioned, but she’s going to have to make it work.
“Hey!” I raise my voice just as much as I need to.
She flinches and turns to me while Ferrok scowls.
“I understand that you’re concerned for your son’s safety. I understand that this probably seems like it was a bad option. But it’s the only option we had, and it worked, so unless he tells me specifically to release him from this debt. I am not going to do it.”
I take a deep breath while Mooralan finishes translating. “I know you don’t want to have this conversation like this, but I need you to understand that he is safe with me.”
“Safe?” Mooralan doesn’t mimic the disbelieving huff she gives. “You purchased him. How can he be safe if you own him?”
“I don’t own him. He knows that. I purchased his eligibility to rule.” I clarify while Mooralan speaks quickly after me.
Glaring at me, she snaps her beak. “What happens when you get mad at him and decide to clear that debt or sell it?”
“I’ve spent most of my life under debts taken by others. I know the weight of those things. I know the way they can be used against you. I won’t do that to anyone else.”
She says something to Ferrok, and the argument that ensues makes me take a step back.
“Now she’s questioning how you could afford him if you’re in debt too, and if someone owns you. He’s assuring her you’re not, that you’ve paid those debts.”
Her posture changes to something a little more relaxed, and she looks at me… approvingly?
“What happened?”
Mooralan leans close. “He told her you work at Phantom’s and that, at least, has removed the worry of your debts from her mind. You have a respectable job.”
Another five minutes pass with the two of them arguing and Mooralan giving me abbreviated play by plays.
She finally accepts that I’m not giving him up, and some of the tension that had kept my spine straight eases.
And then, Mooralan stops talking.
“What? Why did you stop?”
“She’s just repeating the same concerns she’s had for years now. Most of the objections are about me.” He lowers his voice to say. “I can read you my sins if you really want to hear them.”
“Later,” I tease.
Sighing in frustration, Ferrok looks at us and says, “I’m not in any danger here, but I also don’t think this argument is going to end any time soon. You should go enjoy our freedom.”
“You’re sure?”
He nods. “I’ll see you soon.”
And then she says something sharp, and he looks up at the ceiling before turning back to answer her.
Mooralan makes a face and says, “Uh oh,” as he takes my hand and turns us both away.
“What?”
“She’s asking him about grandkids.”