Chapter 5 #2
I’d been a tomboy as a teenager and, as a grown woman, I preferred to wear pants or shorts whenever possible. I hated the way dresses felt. And how they never seemed to fit me right. They would always bunch up in one place, or I would step on the hem or nearly choke myself when I sat down.
“Human females don’t wear dresses in your realm?” he asked.
I wet the tip of the thread between my lips so I could slip it through the eye of the needle. Then, I used the knife to cut off the length of thread long enough to sew one end of the knit sleeves closed.
Once that was done, I glanced up to find that his intent gaze was fixed on my hands. “Some women do. But many prefer pants. They’re warmer, more comfortable, and easier to move in.”
He nodded. “Then, I’ll go to one of the children’s stores here and buy you some trousers. The ones that will fit your waist will likely be too long, but I know Masu will insist on hemming them for you.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, bending my head back to the garment in my hand.
I focused on the task at hand, sewing a seam across one end.
The fold of fabric left inside the sock would probably drive me nuts, but it was better than walking around barefoot.
Internally, I lamented that I hadn’t learned to knit or crochet when my grandmother tried to teach me.
If I had, I probably could make myself a pair of socks relatively quickly.
Still, this would do for now.
The second “sock” was much faster than the first. I tucked the needle back into the thread, the same way it had been when Bokkan handed it to me, and held it out to him.
“Thank you,” I said. “For your kindness.”
His jaw flexed, and he pressed his lips together as he took the items from me. “Don’t thank me for doing my duty as your host,” he finally rumbled, his voice deeper than before.
I shrugged. “It’s a human thing. We thank each other if someone is considerate or does something kind for us. It’s how we show appreciation.”
I turned my back to him and flipped the makeshift socks inside out.
As I slipped my feet into them, I realized I was correct about the extra material rubbing my toes, but I didn’t care because my feet and calves were blissfully warm within a few seconds.
The soft knit material held the heat in better than anything I’d ever worn before.
“Better?” Bokkan asked.
“Much. Than—”
He grunted, interrupting my words.
I sighed and leaned back on the couch, wrapping myself in the blanket and trying to ignore the fact that I wasn’t wearing underwear. Yeah, I really wish I’d learned how to sew when I’d had the chance.
Silence fell between us, at least until my stomach growled loudly enough for Bokkan to hear. Idly, I wondered what had become of my pajamas and panties while I was unconscious.
“You’re hungry,” he said.
“Yes. I’m not sure what kind of meal schedule daemons keep, but humans usually eat three meals a day. One in the morning, one at midday, and one in the evening a few hours before bed. Sometimes, we also require snacks if we’re active. I tend to need to eat between meals.”
“Daemons have a similar schedule. But we have morning tea between breaking our fast and midday. And afternoon tea between midday and supper.”
That made sense. Daemons and imps were both larger than humans. It was likely they required a lot of fuel to maintain so much body mass.
“Masu should be here in a few moments with a meal for us.”
“We’re eating in your chamber?” I asked.
“For tonight. Once you have clothing, we will eat in the dining room.”
I glanced down at the shirt I wore. It covered me entirely from shoulder to knee.
The neckline was wide and revealed my collarbones.
It was nearly wide enough to be completely off-the-shoulder.
I’d tied a strip of fabric around my waist to keep the yards of fabric from tangling up in my arms and legs as I moved.
While it wasn’t ideal, it was certainly clothing and it kept me covered.
When I looked back up at him, Bokkan shrugged. “It is cold here at night and the fireplace in the dining room doesn’t work right now.”
Shit. Yet another way he was showing me consideration. The small part of me that wanted to trust him grew a bit larger.
Before I could formulate a reply, there was a sharp knock at the door to his bedchamber.
The heavy door was thrown open before he even had a chance to move and Masu entered, carrying a large tray in her hands.
She was already halfway to the table near the fire before Bokkan got to her and took the wooden tray.
She shot him a harsh glare but didn’t say anything to him as he carried it to the table.
Instead, she came over to where I was wrapped up in the blanket. She slipped a thick length of knitted material from where it was draped over her shoulder and held it out to me.
“I found some of my son’s old clothes in a trunk. I think this sweater will fit you and keep you much warmer than the blanket.”
I couldn’t prevent my smile as I looked up at her. “Thank you, Masu.”
“Do you have any of his old trousers?” Bokkan asked before she could respond to me.
“I do,” she answered, giving him a confused look.
“Do you think they would fit Leda?”
She glanced back at me, studying my form. “Yes, though they would be too long in the leg. I would have to shorten them.”
“Could you have a pair for her tomorrow morning?”
I opened my mouth to tell them both that it wasn’t necessary, but Masu answered before I could.
“Of course.”
“It’s okay,” I began. “I can wait until you have time to—”
“It will only take me a few moments,” Masu interrupted. “I’ll go get them. When the two of you are done eating, I’ll bring them up and pin them. A pair will be ready for you in the morning.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but it was useless because the daemoness swept out of the bedchamber, shutting the door behind her.
My eyes moved to Bokkan. “She’s actually in charge around here, isn’t she?”
A wide, white smile spread across his face, revealing his fangs again. The expression should have been terrifying but his black eyes crinkled at the corners and practically twinkled. “She is.”
“And she makes you pay her to boss you around?”
Bokkan chuckled. Well, it was the deepest, most rumbly laugh I’d ever heard.
I could feel the vibrations from across the room, even though it wasn’t loud.
The pitch and timbre of his voice sent a shiver rushing down my spine.
The daemon could make a mint narrating romance novels back home.
His voice was deeper than any human man’s and it elicited an uncontrollable physical reaction in me.
The sensation was both primal and voracious.
Human women would pay top dollar to experience the feelings I had right now.
My stomach chose that moment to growl again, and his smile morphed into a scowl. “You need to eat,” he grumbled, moving to the tray Masu had set on the table.
He plucked up a wide, shallow bowl, the pottery obviously handmade, and brought it over to me.
The dish looked tiny in his huge, clawed hand, but when I took it from him, I had to cradle it with both of my hands, or I wouldn’t have been able to hold it.
Hell, it was the size of the one serving bowl I kept in my kitchen for when I made popcorn during movie nights.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Stew with beans, vegetables, and meat. Masu is in charge here because she’s also the best cook in the city.
And she knows it. Any other house would pay her even more than I do, but she accepted my job offer when I told her that she would have free rein of the kitchen.
She chooses the menu, the food kept in the pantry and cellar, and even selects the wine, tea, and szite. ”
“What’s zighty?” I asked, trying to sound out the word. It didn’t sound quite the same coming from my lips as it did his. There was some sort of accent on the first syllable that I couldn’t replicate.
I discovered the huge daemon could be cute when he paused, blinking his black eyes slowly as he processed my question.
Finally, he answered, “It is a strong beverage we drink in the morning or any time we need something to help us stay awake. It is made from the root of a common plant here. It’s roasted and minced into small pieces.
Then it is further dried and stored in a special wooden box to enhance its flavor.
We add it to hot water and let it simmer for a few minutes before pouring it through a strainer into a cup. ”
I nodded. “We have something like that where I’m from. It’s called coffee. Some people drink it as is, and others add sugar or milk to theirs.”
“Szite is always served with a sweetener and milk. Drinking it without diluting it can cause stomach pains.”
Good to know. I glanced down at the bowl in my hands, inhaling the scent of meat, vegetables, and spices.
The fragrance reminded me of the Mediterranean restaurant I often went to after work.
My mouth watered, and my stomach growled again.
But there was no spoon in the bowl. I frowned, wondering if eating utensils weren’t a thing here.
A chunk of bread appeared in front of me.
“Here. We scoop the stew up with this and eat both. I have a spoon if you want it.”
My gaze drifted up to his face. Though his bronze features and black eyes gave him an alien appearance, I was beginning to read his expressions better now. He looked concerned. Earnest.
The tiny bit of trust I had in him grew again, like a seed sprouting roots and a delicate stem. If I truly were stuck here, Bokkan was proving to be the kind of friend I would need to navigate this strange place.