It was early dawn when A’nallia woke. Only a few dim rays of sunlight streamed into the bedchamber, but it was bright enough for her to recognize her surroundings. Her master still lay asleep next to her, his chest gently rising and falling, so she slid as gracefully as she could off the edge of the bed, holding her breath and hoping not to wake him. She grabbed the teacup, still half full from the night before, and took a few steps toward the study before the familiar deep voice stopped her.

“Why did you stay?”

A’nallia didn’t know how to answer. It wasn’t complicated, but she didn’t want to tell her master her assumptions about him. Or tell him she thought the same about herself. What if she was wrong? She couldn’t live with that amount of awkwardness in the house for the rest of her life.

“I thought you might want me to. A’ldissa and U’sari often do.”

“Is that really why?”

She turned to look at him but he hadn’t moved, eyes staring down to his pillow.

“Yes, sir.”

He rolled over, facing away from her, and she headed back toward the study.

“Tell I’liara to come see me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Exiting into the study, she took the tea tray, then stepped into the main hall, softly closing the door behind her. I’liara was already there with Maren, most likely discussing the schedule for the day. When A’nallia approached, both women stopped speaking to look at her, so she bowed to greet them.

“Nana Ara, he would like to see you.”

“Thank you.”

Her response was short, no questions asked about how the night went, and after a quick nod to Maren, I’liara walked across the hall and into the study. A’nallia went the opposite way, returning the tray to the kitchen before Maren could say anything, or worse, make her do anything.

O’rana and O’raena were washing and cutting fruit for breakfast, two identical backs facing her as she entered. At the sound, O’rana turned, and at the sight of A’nallia, she dropped her knife onto the cutting board and darted across the room to her side. Her eyes were sparkling with a concerned curiosity.

“Well, what happened? What did he want that you had to stay all night? Are you alright? I mean, you’ve been here less than a month. He has never treated us like purchased property. To ask such a thing of you when you haven’t even been in the house very long...”

A’nallia placed the tray down as O’rana chattered away, then placed a hand on each shoulder to stop the rambling.

“O’rana, calm down.”

“Right. But still...”

“Nothing happened. He aggravated some old injuries during his journey, so I healed them. That’s it.”

O’rana cocked an eyebrow, sure something was being left out. She reached up, stretching all the way out, and placed her hands on A’nallia’s shoulders.

“If that is the case, then why did you stay all night? It doesn’t take all night to heal some old injuries.”

A’nallia sighed, knowing she had to give her an answer she would accept.

“He seemed sad.”

Pursing her lips, O’rana’s brow fell, now furrowed in confusion, and she let her hands slip to her sides. Then a look of partial understanding crossed her face.

“You stayed with him because he seemed sad? And nothing happened?”

“Everyone needs some comfort. It didn’t seem right to leave him alone.”

O’rana nodded, not only satisfied with the answer but agreeing with her assessment of their master. She wiggled out from under A’nallia’s hands and crawled up onto a kitchen stool.

“He does always seem sad, doesn’t he?”

Joining her at the table, A’nallia propped her chin up with both hands, knowing there would be more.

“We haven’t been here very long, only a few years, but long enough that we should know our master. But we don’t.”

Even O’raena responded to that with a bob of the head, still washing and cutting fruit.

“He’s so private, and he barely speaks to anyone except Nana Ara. Perhaps he speaks more with A’ldissa and U’sari, but they never say anything. I doubt he does. From what I could get out of U’sari, she would just bring him meals and tea, do some chores in his chambers, and sometimes spend the night. You know, that kind of spend the night.”

A’nallia couldn’t help but smile at the comment. She was a few years younger than her friend, but O’rana was so much like a child. She couldn’t blame her for being repressed, though. What opportunity had any of them had to learn about the world? If it wasn't for her shock seeing the severity of the wounds on her master’s legs, A’nallia would have struggled with the same naiveté.

“Anyway, I don’t think he really speaks to them. A’ldissa is all high and mighty, but I think it’s just an act. I don’t think he talks to her any more than he does the rest of us.”

“But why?”

A’nallia didn’t understand how someone could not want any kind of companionship, even a demon who acted as detached as their master. She had been alone only a short time compared to him, but she wanted nothing more than to belong and to feel needed. Not as a witch or servant, but as a person. To have any connection that might mean she was something other than a pretty face, a slim figure, and a pair of extra hands for healing or chores.

“A question you would have to ask him, I guess. Not that he’ll give you an answer.” O’rana paused to think for a moment but could only shrug. “He doesn’t really seem as cold and emotionless as he acts, but maybe demons really are just unfeeling monsters. They aren’t human, after all. Maybe we just want them to be, so we pretend they are something they aren’t.”

They aren’t human, so we pretend they are something they aren’t.

After her surprising words of wisdom, O’rana jumped off the stool, her deep thinking for the morning concluded, and skipped back to her sister’s side to continue prepping the morning meal.

“Either way, it is something to pity.”

A’nallia nodded in agreement and headed back out into the hall, then up the stairs to her room to get ready for another day.