To Defend A Bride (Entangled with the Enduar #3)

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

MELISA

Y ou are strong , I tell myself while lighting flames that damned near refuse to spark.

You are fierce , I whisper while I wait for the buckets to boil.

You are capable , I insist as I place the gem for the girls in a drawer near my bed.

The words repeat as I clean my teeth with a citrus tree stick. Eneko hardly kisses during the short nights I spend with him—he prefers my mouth on other parts of his body—but something about it eases my stomach.

Once finished, I crush a few of the mint leaves I'd found with Estela's herbs until a powder forms that I apply to my teeth and let it sit while I finish preparing my bath.

I add the rose-scented oil to the warm water. I scrub every inch of my body, paying extra attention to my fingernails and toes. Then I get out of the tub so I have enough time to dry my hair.

The warmth from the hearth is welcome as I plop down, boar hair brush in hand. While I stroke my tresses, I think of how Wren looked while getting her hair combed out. Griselda had taught me how to pin my stick-straight locks into curls around my head.

Once my hair shines, I tie it back with a red ribbon. Then, I dress, being sure to bind where my wound has scabbed over, and dab the red rouge onto my eyes and lips.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I can almost feel my mother looking over my shoulder.

Whore .

Griselda can think whatever she wants about me. One day, I’ll leave her behind.

I square my shoulders, inspecting my body with an almost clinical scrutiny. My breasts are appropriately pushed up, my dress remains unwrinkled, and my face is pleasing by giant standards.

You are strong. You are fierce. You are capable.

You are... a whore.

My chest squeezes.

It doesn't matter what Ra’Sa thinks about me tonight, or any other night. But then today… he got those men away from me.

“You probably don’t even know the touch of a woman!”

“And you’d be right.”

Did that mean… that he’d never made love to a woman?

I shake my head. None of it matters. I didn't sleep with him before he arrived, and I’m glad I didn’t. There will be other men. There will always be other men.

The Enduar fantasy of being mated and finding someone to care for you unconditionally... It isn't for me.

When there's a knock on the door, I let out a long sigh. I place the beaded headdress atop my locks and then grab my cloak. When I reach the door and pull it open, Hibsej waits on the other side, dressed finely. Her frown deepens when she sees me.

Without a word, she turns on her heel and begins to walk to the front of the house. I hurry out outside, locking the door behind me, and follow after my master’s wife.

Eneko’s cart waits, prepared for us to go to the feast.

The two boys, Urdort and Relmos, are already sitting on one of the benches, wearing fine clothing. Eneko helps his wife to the front of the cart, so that they might sit next to each other, and I am left to haul myself into the back. It smells of sweat, wood, and something foul that I'd rather not inspect too closely.

The boys continue to poke and prod at each other as I settle on the bench opposite them. I take a deep breath, trying to ignore their fighting. It isn't my business to help them. When they look over at me, the youngest smiles and the elder one hits him squarely on the shoulder.

"Don't speak to her," he hisses.

I let the remarks go and brace myself against the wood as the ride gets bumpier. We pass the trees and slave pens until we make it to the road. I try to look for Ra’Sa to see if I might get a glimpse of him before the feast, but no slave is in sight.

A sensation creeps up my lower back and moves all the way up my spine.

Tonight. You'll see him tonight after ? —

Enough! It doesn't matter. This is the mission.

I let the worries roll off of me like snowflakes that float to the ground. We travel past the snow-covered trees while I clutch my cloak closed. I watch as Urdort leans his head against Relmos' shoulder, and something inside of me softens. They are generally monstrous boys with horrible parents, but they are still children.

Even I was young and monstrous once.

It’s not hard to understand why Hibsej hates me. If I were in her position, I don't know how I could share the man who had promised to be mine. Especially not after I'd willingly given him babies.

To be honest, I don't even fully remember all the details of the man who gave me Thea and Wren. I remember the color of his hair and the sweat that slicked his skin, but everything else faded, like the pain of giving birth.

I hate those memories.Most of the time, I keep them buried deep.

But it’s hard not to compare such a time to Ra'Sa's fingers skittering across my skin as he packed the wound. My mind pictures Ra'Sa over me instead of the other two men who have held that place. His eyes would be focused on me instead of his own pleasure.

Just like he had in my dreams.

Fuck . Those dreams.

Like pine sap catching fire, a new ache spreads through my chest. What if he had been Wren and Thea's father? I scarcely need to ask the question to know how different life would've been. How much gentler and sweeter everything would've been. He wouldn't have made me fear motherhood.

But I’ve lost my opportunity. He wants new babies… his babies.

My eyes squeeze shut. Hope is the cruelest of emotions. I cast the painful thoughts aside, but they don't sink into the cracks on the road. They cling to my skirts, like the smell of smoke clings to my clothes as we approach the palace.

I see some of the other foremen from other regions approaching the palace in a similar fashion.

Juan, the human foreman that Abi used to belong to, has a new woman at his side. At least he doesn't have a family to insult with her presence.

This human is sullen and thin—the opposite of Abi's thick, full body. I try to catch her eye. When I manage to, she quickly looks away.

I frown and twist my hands in my skirts.

There are over twenty foremen scattered around, but I hardly recognize any of their women. Abi and Paoli made feasts like this the faintest bit more tolerable. At least we could cast each other covert rolls of our eyes when we were drawn into our masters' laps.

Colorful dresses begin to reveal themselves from under thick woolen cloaks as men and women are escorted up the palace steps. I hop off the back of the wagon unceremoniously and follow closely behind Hibsej and Eneko. Hibsej looks disgusted when she sees me trying to get my footing right.

"At least act like you are a lady,” she sneers.

I take a deep breath, nod, and quietly thank her. There’s no reason to make anyone mad tonight; it will only worsen things. The boys join their mother’s side while I attach myself to the back left of Eneko—his little, human shadow.

We continue up to the top of the steps, and I straighten when one of the men collects my cloak. The human frowns at me, but I let his unpleasant glances bounce off me.

Fuck him. I could fret about the giants finding me desirable, or I could turn my looks into a tool to feed my family.

If I had to do it all over again, I would.

As I step forward and Eneko is announced to the party, the warmth washes over me, a welcome respite from the frosty air outside. As I take a deep breath and fall back into my place at his side, most of the prying eyes find new targets.

We approach the festivities. The human playing a harp in the corner accompanies the lines of people seeking different kinds of food. Roast boars and bulls are laid across the tables while the wine flows freely into glasses. Long tables are situated at the back of the room for the foremen, while lords are afforded more dignified tables near the top of the enormous room.

High King Rholker and his new queen, Marej, sit side by side as humans serve them delicacies from silver platters. A few men and women sit on the sides of the elaborate thrones encrusted with gems. A host of women sit at the king’s feet, all dressed to match his golden suit.

He ignores their touches and laughter, already looking irritated and bored.

We walk up the carpet reserved for paying respects to the royalty. I think of the days I spent being ordered to wash and dress Estela. Eneko had been upset at the request, but who says no to their king?

As we approach, his gaze snaps onto me and narrows. My skin bursts into flames, but I keep my head down and bow low enough to touch my nose to the ground.

"Foreman Eneko, welcome. Thank you for coming with such a hasty invitation," King Rholker's voice rumbles through the distance between us.

"It is I who should be thanking you, my king. Thank you for inviting my family to this splendid feast," Eneko responds.

My gaze remains locked on the pristine fibers of the decorative rug beneath me. My thighs and ribs burn as I stay in the position, but I resist the urge to move.

At last, High King Rholker speaks. "I'm glad to see your woman hasn't escaped like so many other humans fleeing our lands."

The heat flashing across my skin intensifies as the seams of my dress suddenly feel too tight. I try to ignore the sensation as I slowly rise with the others.

When I look up, the king smiles at Eneko. "Go, enjoy! Later this evening, I may require a minute or two of your time, along with the other foremen."

Eneko nods deeply, as if nothing would make him happier.

We are dismissed, and Eneko and Hibsej walk away from the throne. I hang back for a half-second to look at the new king. His wife notices and pins me with an icy glare.

I bend into my quickest curtsy and hurry after my master.

Soon, each of us is given a plate. The giants fill them with food, but I hardly eat. Too much food will make the rest of the evening that much worse.

After settling on a roll and a bunch of grapes, I sit. Slaves bring out even more bottles of wine. It's not my intention to overindulge, but I can't seem to help myself.

My chest ties itself into another knot each time I picture Eneko’s bed and his naked skin. I chew on my lip. None of this should worry me. I just need to focus, get my head into the right place with a little more wine and let myself relax.

That's all.

Throughout the feast, I watch the others enjoy the music and dancing. My hand hardly leaves the goblet. Usually, a bit of alcohol helps to dull my senses, but tonight, it enhances every detail.

The candlelit chandeliers glittering above are too bright, as are the torches on the wall and the fires held by the statued consorts of Khuohr—god of war. The music makes my ears ring, and a sense of irritation nestles itself firmly in the center of my soul. I fix the fake smile I've pasted across my mouth and take deep breath after deep breath.

Different variations of ‘More wine!’ and ‘Faster!’ prick at my ears from the dancers.

Too loud. Too bright.

I snap out of my dread when Hibsej returns from the dance floor, cheeks flushed, and a smile spread across her face. Her chestnut hair looks windswept from the lively music, but it suits her, as does her gown and makeup. Her eyes land on me, that twinkle fades. It snuffs out completely and turns into all-consuming darkness when Eneko lets go of her hand, steps away, and nods.

Even I’m annoyed at his brashness.

That tree fucker.

Hibsej’s fingers clutch at her skirts, and her shoulders rise a fraction of an inch. "What? You want me to go now?"

He casts her a look that warns his patience wears thin. "The king requires an audience with me. The rest of the night is my own."

Hibsej opens her mouth and then snaps it closed. "Very well, husband."

He gives her a peck on her cheek, which only hardens her glare, and walks over to the boys, who are curled up on a bench after hours of chasing each other around and playing battle with the other giant boys. They continue to sleep as she picks them up.

An ache blooms in my chest as I watch her leave. It doesn't matter that she glares daggers at me; I hurt for something I never had. My womb was once full, but my arms have long since been empty.

"Wait here," Eneko says, addressing me directly. "I must speak with the king, and then I will return."

I can't say that it's normal for the king to stop his party-goers mid-festival, but any information is good information as far as I'm concerned. I let out a huff of a laugh and pour myself another glass of wine. This should be the... third? No, fourth.

The rest of the foremen filter out the room, and I tip my head back. The men all leave behind women like me, dressed in bright colors and accessorized with wine glasses. One comfort woman catches my eye, and I raise my goblet to her, but she shakes her head and looks away.

I sigh.

"Tough crowd," a voice says to my left.

I turn and see Alisa, one of my allies, occupying the seat next to mine. Her brown hair is graying at the root, but she has a pretty round face and rosy cheeks.

“Gods. It’s good to see you! Where have you been?” I slur, slightly. “Neither you nor Daria have been at the cesto de lavado ? 1 to wash clothes with me.”

“Sorry, love. I wash on Thursdays now. And Daria and I have missed you, too,” she says, grabbing the bottle from the table and trying to pour the glass, only to find it mostly empty. She frowns.

"You're anticipating a nasty rut tonight, then?"

I look at her and cast her a crooked smile. "Eneko isn't ever gentle."

"Neither is Forik."

Something about the way she says that makes me sit up straighter.

“Did he make you bleed again?” I ask as if this were a normal conversation. Old friends, and all that.

She winces, but then she nods. “You certainly are drunk tonight.”

“A friend showed me a bush with pale blue flowers. Boil it—it will help you heal,” I say.

Alisa smiles. “Thank you. That’s… It’s kind of you to think of me.”

I don't respond.

“So,” she starts. “Can I ask where you went?”

I sigh deeply, sipping more wine. “I think you know.”

Guilt pricks at my chest.

I look at the woman. Why did I pick Abi and Paoli over them?

They were younger than me. Newer to this life. They were hopeful in a way Alisa and Daria have lost, just like me.

“Perhaps I should try to switch the washing days so Daria and I can meet with you.”

But maybe I was wrong.

“That would be a good idea,” I respond, turning back to the ballroom.

While the families of the foremen have left, many noble couples remain. Even still, there’s an imbalance in the ratio of men to women. It isn't long before dedicated, loyal husbands start casting glances our way. Every minute that passes makes me feel more anxious for Eneko’s return.

Giant Lords don't want us for their homes, but that doesn't stop them from wanting a taste. A touch here or a grab there.

All's fair in the name of fun.

Finally, one breaks away, walking toward us with a purposeful swagger that tightens my chest.

Lord Veklor. He's quite an important noble—he owns a decent chunk of the eastern and northern yards. Insulting him would be foolish.

As a sculptor might carve out a perfectly demure face on a statue, I adjust my position, straighten my dress, and arrange my face into the sultry fantasy that men have projected onto those in my station. He takes my movements as pleasing and flashes me a smile of his own.

"It's a shame that your master has left you here all alone," Veklor says. His eyes pass quickly over my body, starting at the glittering headdress and landing on my feet, which have been tactfully kept out of sight.

Giants love neatly groomed, delicate feet.

I smile at him as sweetly as I can muster. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Veklor's smile deepens.

“Perhaps.” He draws one hand out from behind his back and offers it to me. “And perhaps you'd enjoy a dance while we wait for him."

I refuse to let my lips twist downward even a fraction. "I don't think that would be wise."

He lets out a laugh, but his eyes narrow. "And why would that be?"

I breathe through the wave of nerves washing over me. I always thought that this part would go away—that I would once be able to feel as at ease as I look. It's a testament to my skills that the men never notice. Or perhaps... they don't wish to see.

"Truly, your offer honors me. But I'm sure that Foreman Eneko will return soon. We will likely leave after," I say as softly as possible.

He smirks. "Yes. I'm sure he'll keep you quite busy."

"I will," a voice rumbles out from behind him.

The tension in my chest continues to mount. I breathe in.

You are strong. You are fierce. You are capable.

I let the air out of my lungs.

Eneko steps into view, and Veklor casts him a long suffering glance. "Ah, the devil himself."

Takes one to know one.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Lord Veklor. I hope that the lumber we've been sending is sufficient." Eneko’s words run together a little. He hasn’t been gone that long but it seems he’s managed to drink his weight in wine.

We need to return to the cabin so I can get him talking before he crashes. Without speaking, I gravitate to my place at his side. It's more habit than anything, but it's still necessary.

They continue talking for a moment before a slave appears with a tray of wine glasses. The tension knotting up in my stomach makes me nauseous as we stand there.

They talk about lumber and slaves, and I listen to them discuss the different parts of the trade. I hear about the thousands dead, and sadness snips at my heart. Eneko ordered dozens to be murdered while we sit here partying.

"They can try to do whatever they want, but it will be useless. We've got them backed so far into a corner that they would be fools to try to get out again. As you probably heard, the king is making good on his promises to cut out the rot at the root. With any luck, the next generations of humans won't be so bitchy," Veklor says.

Eneko pauses. "And what will we do without workers?"

We humans need to get the fuck out of Zlosa.

The sooner, the better.

Veklor makes a noncommittal sound. "We'll be fine. They breed like rabbits and mature quickly. We have more across the kingdom that can supplement the more arduous tasks like chopping and butchering while they repopulate."

I memorize every word, knowing that I must remember it for my meeting in a few hours.

We need to leave. I don’t want Ra’Sa to wait all night; he must rise early.

Every nerve in my body sparks to life as Eneko leans down a half hour later and says, "Time to return."