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When Dorian arrived at the library, he was surprised to see someone else in his usual spot. Krem was pacing in front of the window, biting his nails. Something was clearly on the boy's mind.
"Looking for a good bed time story for Bull? I know how hard it is to get him to take his naps." Not even a smirk from the young warrior. "Alright, what is it? What's wrong?"
"Can we talk in private? Somewhere more private?"
Once they were out on the ramparts, Krem sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked like he hadn't slept all night. His eyes glazed and haunted.
"What is all this about?"
"It's... I... Just... I don't..." Krem sighed again and leaned against the stone wall with his face in his hands. "I need a favor."
"Oh. Well, that's no big deal, is it? I'm always happy to help my friends."
"It's not..." Krem let out a frustrated groan. "It isn't exactly a normal favor. It's not something you ask someone. And I wouldn't ask if there were any other-"
" Krem . Breathe. Just ask. I'll help if I can."
"It's my parents. Their- The man who-" He took a deep breath. "Their master ." He spit the word out like it was poison. "He died. They've been put up on the auction market and-" He shuddered. "I don't know what's going to happen to them. Anything can happen. I was hoping... That is, I was just wondering if... Maybe..."
"Ah. I see. You want me to ask my parents to buy yours."
"I wouldn't ask. But it's the only thing I could think of."
"No, of course. It's a good idea. I'll send word to my parents right away. I'm sure they'll be willing to help."
"Really?"
"At the very least, they'll want back in my good graces. They'll do it."
Krem leapt at him and pulled him into a tight bear hug.
"Thank you! I can't even- Thank you!"
~*~
Donna and Marcus Acclassi fit in well in the Pa vus household. Halward and Pris cilla were kind to their slaves and had need of a new t ailor anyway. A perfect solution. Donna quickly became Priscilla's favorite maid.She was quiet, attentive, gentle, and unafraid to be completely honest with her new mi stress. The others were always so afraid of speaking out of turn or accidentally insulting her. Priscilla had never been better dressed or better groomed in her life. All of Donna's tips and constructive criticisms refined her style in ways she didn't know were possible.
Little more than a month after arriving, when Donna brought Priscilla her tea, she looked as though she was biting her tongue. Which was unlike her.
"Is something the matter?"
"If I may... My Lady... May I speak freely?"
"Always. If you're asking permission, it must be serious. Sit. Please."
Donna sat down and took a deep breath.
"When my child was born... I had all th ese plans. You see... We have a child and we think that we know what's best for them. What they need. What they should do and be. We know what we want them to ac hieve . We have their whole lives mapped out. But then they grow up and tell us : 'No no . That's not right. None of that.' And we just don't know what to do. We never planned for that. We never thought that out child would be their own person with their own thoughts and feelings. Never thought we could be wrong. And we just don't know what to do. So we push. 'No no . I had a plan. We're sticking to the plan!' And they push back. So we push back harder and... We push them away." Donna stared at the table, a lump forming in her throat. "Our children have no choice. They are who they are. The choice is ours. We can destroy our children. Breaking and beating them into the mold we made for them the da they were born, and ultimately lose them forever. Or . Or we can accept them. And respect their right to be happy. Because at the end of the day... All we can give them is love." Donna reached over and placed her hand on her mistress' arm. "Your son is a good man."
Priscilla smiled and looked up at her.
"So is yours."