The Zalethi reached for her seat. As she walked across the room, every single Noble or dignitary, diplomat or ensign from the Dominion stood up, bowing their heads and holding their hands together as a sign of devotion to the Twelve and to what she represented.
Eteri shuffled her feet. Was she supposed to do the same? Or grovel on the floor, like a dog? Her heart pounded in her chest, unable to find a good solution to this conundrum.
As the woman made of night came closer she felt like her blind gaze pierced her. She bowed as low as she could, without touching the floor, though. Her tinkling non-dress showered with an echo of glass bells. Would this be the correct thing to do?
She would find out soon. In her heart, she hoped the Twelve would have mercy on her.
The large chair moved on its own as the Zalethi took her seat. She did the same with the one to her left. There the Loukomon found his spot.
“You can stand up,” she said. “I suppose Nives did tell you about how you should behave.”
She had… in part. And would she dare to make her waste time telling her everything that happened? While in the room with most if not all the important figures of the Dominion?
But this was she would avoid embarrassing her further.
“She told me some. Do not reply if not spoken to. Keep quiet and be of service. Be pretty.”
“Only that? I do wonder why she was so succinct.” She flicked her wrist and Eteri felt the glass surrounding her answer to her call, making her float until her black and glossy hand reached for her chin, appreciating the changes that had been made to her skin and to her looks. “Ah, Nives’ personal touch. I am sure she had fun working on you.”
Was that a question? She did not feel like risking it, so she just nodded.
She let her go. Eteri stood panting, waiting for more instructions. The sheer magic the Zalethi had just displayed on her body, without even a thought or a word made her feel so insignificant. Something inside Eteri seemed to react to that experience, being just an object for the Herald to manipulate as she wanted and to display. Something she would draw pleasure from and Eteri would have no word in it.
The feeling hit her straight in her stomach. A strange hot pressure that made her squirm and her cheeks grow flush. At that sight, the Zalethi’s thick lips pulled in a smile.
“Now that is promising. As for the tonight, Child…” she let her go and Eteri’s feet touched the floor again. “I will have servants bring you a pillow. You will sit between me and Lathie. You are not supposed to speak, and you are not supposed to do anything at all. Sit down and look pretty. I suppose that would be work enough for tonight.” She was teasing her, but this time the tone of her words shifted from commandeering to almost kind. As if she really did care Eteri enjoyed her first dinner as a slavegirl. “You will be provided with dinner. We will meet later.”
And with that, Eteri felt a servant girl set a large white pillow on the floor, wide enough for her to sit comfortably. So seated she could barely look at the table.
Her family had never owned a pet (they were far too expensive when they still lived out of the city proper and by the time they got their business going nobody in the family was eager for one) but this did feel like becoming one.
A human pet, together with a collar… even though hers was invisible and impalpable. Still hanging from the Zalethi’s wrists. Eteri’s hand came to rest against her stomach. She still felt that weird sensation, that spreading and pulsating heat.
She knew what it might be. She had felt it sometimes already, especially in the morning, and she would deal with it her own way, using her fingers and trying to stifle her soft moans. She had talked about it with Tatia and she had explained that it was absolutely normal for a growing girl like her, and in fact she was a little surprised it had taken her so much to open up about them.
Tatia had explained her how to deal with them quickly, especially when she stimulated the little pink nub atop her sex, but she had never… never like this. Her heartbeat picked up speed.
Being held like that in the air…
What an indignity. Tatia would have been furious. She would have probably snapped and shouted back at the Zalethi or something like that.
So, in truth… it was a good thing she had begged to be brought here. And what would happen later that night… it would be a good thing too.
She was sure.
Her hand reached in the middle of her breasts, trying to calm her thunderous heart. She had to stay calm and most importantly she couldn’t cause a scene right in the middle of the dinner.
Everything but that. She could absolutely not… not do that.
She crossed the gaze of the Loukomon. He had been kind to her before and even that time he reassured her with a smile and a nod.
“Please be patient young one,” he muttered, leaning back just enough for his head to appear behind the back of the Zalethi’s tall chair.
The Zalethi sighed, but her silence did seem to say that the old Loukomon knew what he was talking about.
“Look at them go,” the Noble sitting to her right, the one who the Zalethi had addressed as Lathie, murmured addressing the rest of the room. As the servants began to fill their plates, he leaned back. “Always the same theatrics. You, on the other hand… you are new. You said you are a ceramist.” He picked up his bag and pulled out a few sketches and schematics, depicting decorations and patterns. “I told you I would need a hand. Do you mind? It would make this dinner less tedious.”
Author’s Notes: thanks for reading.