Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
No wonder he hates me. I’m lucky he’s tolerating my presence at all. I feel a surge of gratitude for him and swipe at my eyes. I know he’s frustrated, but I’ve got to find a way to make it up to him. I may not be the strong, strapping wife he wants, but I have some skills at least. If I can’t be what he needs, I can at least be a good houseguest until he gets rid of me.
I tap on the kitchen’s datapad built into the counter and consider the list of foods, trying to think of something that would please him. I noticed when I woke up this morning that several of the fresh rolls I’d made and almost all of the cookies were gone. He likes baked goods, then. That’s perfect, because I love baking. I pull up a list of traditional mesakkah recipes and get to work.
Emvor’s out for most of the day, popping in occasionally for a drink of fresh water and a quick snack. I notice that he snags the rest of the cookies and it makes me feel good. Between baking, I clean his house from top to bottom, organizing his storage and sweeping the dust off of everything. He’s not a dirty guy and the house isn’t a pigpen, but it’s clear he isn’t much interested in making it a home versus just a place to sleep. There are things stacked in random corners of the living area that make it seem a little more cluttered than it is, so I organize them on shelves and straighten closets. I find an old shirt tossed over a chair in the bedroom that needs mending, and so I do it, too. All the while, baked treats come out of the oven regularly.
It’s interesting, being here. Leandra’s home was full of servant mechs, always crawling all over the place and working to keep her enormous mansion clean and tidy. There are no mechs here, and I know it’s not that he can’t afford them. He must not like them. I don’t blame him; I’ve always found them a bit creepy and dead-eyed. I much prefer doing things by hand. It keeps me sharp and it reminds me, weirdly enough, of being on Earth.
As I clean, I uncover a half-buried box full of decorative little sticks. Each one is covered with markings and cleverly painted. I know what this is—Leandra was a big fan of the mesakkah game of “sticks” and taught me how to play. I wonder if Emvor would be interested? I put it aside to ask him.
By the time dinner is simmering on the stove and the rugs I found stored in one of the closets are neatly arranged on the floor, I’m tired from the day’s work, but the house is tidy and charming. I’d be happy here, I think wistfully. It’s not a big place, but it’s cozy.
Not that I get to stay, and that’s my own fault. I can’t even be mad at Emvor for feeling betrayed. It was a hell of a lie. A necessary one, but still a lie. I contemplate that even as I give myself a quick bath in the bedroom.
I’ve barely pulled a fresh tunic over my head when someone knocks at the front door and the proximity alert chimes. I stiffen, smoothing my hair back in surprise. It can’t be Emvor. It’s his house; there’s no need to knock. It has to be one of his neighbors. I swallow hard, hovering behind the doorframe to the bedroom. I don’t know what to do. He said he’d introduce me to others on the planet, but I’m not sure how he wants to announce my human-ness to the others…or how they’ll take it.
Unless I’ve read Emvor all wrong and he’s called the authorities on me.
My mouth goes dry. My trembling returns, shaking me so hard that I can practically hear my teeth rattling in my head. I peek toward the front, and the window next to the door shows that there’s a big blue form waiting on the doorstep.
Oh god. What do I do? What if it’s an enemy? What if—
“Sanjurel,” I hear Emvor call out, perhaps a little too loudly to be accidental. “What’re you doing here?”
I press my back against the wall of the bedroom, hiding as I hear the front door open. My heart’s pounding so hard in my chest that I’m almost positive they can hear it in the next room.
“I thought I’d come by and see if you anticipate showing up to our little gathering.” The stranger’s tone is friendly, almost a little too friendly. “And I wanted to see if you’d be bringing your visitor with you. Thought I’d come over and introduce myself. You know it’s so rare that we get company out in these parts.”