13. Meera

Three short knocks come at my bedroom door.

"Come in," I say, rising from my seat near the windowsill. Despite the fact that I've been here for a few days now, none of this feels like it's mine. I'm hesitant to touch anything.

A short demon woman in dark clothes enters with a few dresses in hand. If I remember correctly, her name is Dulia. She meets my gaze and sends me a smile. "The master of the house is having breakfast at this time. Rfeft roe on black bread with juice from the finest olyer trees on Ikoth. Would you like to join him?"

I blink slowly. "I don't know what those foods are."

"Small eggs from a rare fish," she explains, setting down the dresses at the foot of my bed. "And the juice is… juice." She shrugs, then laughs quietly. "You humans have juices back in New Solas, don't you?"

"Sure we do, but… Not these specific kinds."

"I believe you'll enjoy it if you give it a chance," she replies simply. Then, she gestures towards the dresses. "The master has gifted you these dresses. You came to us with next to nothing, so it's only fitting that he gives you nice dresses to wear."

"Thank you," I whisper. The dresses are beautiful, but I've never worn something so elegant before. I raise a brow at her. "Should I put them on?"

Again, Dulia laughs. "My, do you humans have any sort of autonomy at all?"

She doesn't answer my question, as earnest as it was. Instead, she heads for the door. She bows her head low before exiting and she closes the door gently behind her. Left alone with my thoughts, I stare down at the dresses. Reaching out, my hand passes over the fabric.

"Why would he want me wearing something like this?" I ask aloud. "They're nice clothes. If he wanted to, he could have me wearing rags around the place. But he doesn't."

Is there a chance that he actually likes me?

I grimace at the thought, simply because it's so unfathomable. This demon only wants me around because I'm valuable to him and his cause. Like the xaphans, he uses me because of what I'm able to give him. Nothing more, nothing less.

My mind keeps pestering me, though. Still, I ignore the thoughts and slip on the dress. I've never felt something so smooth passing over my skin before.

Even though Kavianhas told me time and time again that I'm welcome here and I can do whatever I want within these estate walls, I still get nervous stepping out of my bedroom.

This time, I found my way into the library. I don't know how to read these demon texts, they're written in words that I have never seen before, but I browse them. And I wonder what they're for.

At the very least, these books give me something to think about as the days pass by. This doesn't compare to my life back in the village. I used to wake up and get straight to work. Now, I dress in fine clothes, eat lavish foods, and wander around the house aimlessly.

With my chin in my hand, I flip the pages of the book and skim the pictures on each page. "Everything is so strange," I whisper to myself.

But a familiar presence makes itself known.

"What's strange?"

Kavian's voice makes me straighten my back in my seat. My head whips around until I finally find him standing near the doorway of the library, leaning on a bookshelf with his legs crossed at the ankles. Swallowing thickly, my gaze shoots back down to my book. I'm doing my best to ignore the burning feeling in my ears.

"The book I'm reading," I eventually say. He's wearing loose-fitting dark clothes that show off the expanse of his upper chest. I'm fighting the urge to stare. "I don't understand it."

"Well, you're a human," he replies simply. "I wouldn't expect one of you creatures to understand demonic texts. That would be an interesting surprise if you could."

I know I shouldn't, but I somewhat wish that he would bring himself closer to me. He's treated me with respect ever since I arrived, guarding my privacy and respecting my wishes. But he's an enigma that I'm aching to learn more about.

Despite everything I've learned about demons, and everything I already know, I'm pushing that all to the side to give Kavian a chance to prove me wrong.

He clears his throat, which makes me glance at him. "Would you like to learn how to read?"

I'm already imagining myself with him, sitting at a table with a book sprawled in front of us. He would point to the words, asking me to repeat them. And I wouldn't focus because his eyes are too entrancing to look at. The smell of him would encapsulate me, making it difficult to think about anything else.

And maybe, just maybe, he would trail his hands along the expanse of my arms. He would lean in a little too close, and whisper something in my ear that makes me tremble. This scenario entices me, even when I know it shouldn't.

"No, I don't," I reply swiftly, shaking away those thoughts. "Once everything is said and done, I don't see myself staying in Ikoth for very long. So I'll have no need to learn how to read your language."

Kavian lets out a small exhale. I wish I could see into his thoughts. I wish I could know what he truly thinks about me.

"Suit yourself," he says. Those words don't have any malice to them, surprisingly. "I wouldn't be surprised if you changed your mind. My native tongue is beautiful."

"I'm sure it is," I whisper, staring at his retreating form. The strength in his legs and the gracefulness of his movements. I never knew a demon could be so beautiful.

When he leaves, I feel a strange emptiness surrounding me. A silent longing for his presence. Shutting the book, I return it back to its rightful place on the bookshelf and head out into the hallway, hoping to see Kavian.

But he's gone. And I'm left with a confusing mess of emotions within my chest.

One of the servant girls,Yilly, taught me how to use a black substance called chil to create pictures on a canvas. I'm not the artistic type, but when nightfall came and sleep wasn't working in my favor, I decided to give it a go.

I coat my fingers in the black, sticky substance and start dragging them along the blank canvas. There's no rhyme or reason to what I'm doing, but it gives me something to think about as I stare out into Kavian's lush estate gardens.

No one else is around, except for a few nocturnal birds that coo out in the distance. But there's something that tells me that I'm not going to be alone for long. Footsteps, to be more precise.

"Meera."

Glancing over my shoulder, I see it's Kavian standing a short distance away. His eyes flicker towards the chil on my fingers and the mess on my page.

He chuckles. "No one is usually up at this hour."

"I couldn't sleep."

Trying my best to ignore him, I continue painting. There are very vague shapes on my page, so I work with what I have to create a picture. My breath hitches in my throat once I feel Kavian come closer, his heat and his shadows emanating off of him noticeably.

"...Is there something you wanted to talk about?" I ask softly, a shiver coursing down my spine at the feel of his breath on my skin. He leans down close so that he can look at what I'm doing over my shoulder. "Kavian?"

"I just wanted to watch you. Who taught you to do this?"

"Yilly. She said that I looked bored sometimes, so this was supposed to help."

"Interesting," he mumbles. My chil-covered fingers are shaking, so I quickly move them along the page to keep my hands busy.

For some reason, he reaches out and takes my wrist in his hand. I freeze completely, unsure of what to do next. I yield all control to him in an instant, which both surprises and delights me.

What is it about him that makes me act this way?

"Let me help," he says, dragging my hand across the page so that the painting starts resembling one of the trees in front of us. "You're an interesting creature, Meera."

I smile. "Why's that?"

"I don't think I've ever met anyone else who would wake up in the middle of the night to coat their fingers with chil and start drawing. It's silly," he says, letting go of my wrist. I'm starting to miss his touch already. "But it's interesting."

"Well, I told you that I couldn't sleep. It was either this or die of boredom in my bedroom."

"That won't do," he says, shaking his head. His eyes shine bright with the faint glow of the moonlight illuminating them. "Come. Wash your hands. I'll serve you a cup of something."

Both of my eyebrows shoot upwards. "You don't have to serve me anything. And what are you doing up, anyway? I thought I was the only one."

"I work late," he replies. Then, he shoots me a quizzical look. "And that's a strange question to ask the master of the house which you are occupying."

"I was only curious." I shrug, offering a grin.

He wets his lips before answering. "Curiosity can often get you in trouble. Come on."

What does he mean by that?

Staring down at my hands and my half-completed painting, I decide to follow him. I don't know where he's leading me or what he intends to do with me, but I trust him. He's the demon that saved me. Why shouldn't I show him some gratitude?