Their master continued into his study, closing the door behind him, while I’liara anxiously waved A’nallia over and dragged her into the kitchen. She stood, frozen, in the middle of the room as the others ran around her, brewing tea and setting up a tray. I’liara looked her over. She was still wearing her faded blue dress, still with muddy handprints and a dusty hem.

“This won’t do. Head up to your room quickly, girl, and change into something clean. And put your hair up, I suppose, to try and hide how dirty it is.”

A’nallia nodded and was gone and back in less than five minutes. She hadn’t gathered her wash yet and the only other clean dress she had was a plain linen gown, meant more for sleeping than serving. I’liara shook her head but handed her the tea tray anyway.

“Knock before you enter and place the tray on the side table in his study. Then serve him his tea wherever he prefers and do for him whatever else he needs.”

Do for him whatever else he needs.

A’nallia began to tremble, unable to hold her nerves, and the cup on the tray clinked loudly as it vibrated. Everyone was always so serious around the master, as if he would scold them at any minute, and she knew practically nothing about him. On top of that, if she had learned anything over the past few weeks, it was that she made a terrible servant.

She felt a hand rest gently on hers, keeping the tray stable. “You will be fine, dear. He’s not going to eat you. He just wants some tea and some rest after a long, and probably unsuccessful, journey.”

He’s not going to eat me. The words were meant to calm her but now A’nallia realized she didn’t even know what kind of demon her master was. Not a bear demon, but what? What wild beast had he sprung from?

“Enough stalling child. The tea will get cold.”

A’nallia took a deep breath, forcing her hands to steady, and carried the tray to the study. She had never been in the master’s private chambers before. When she cleaned, she cleaned other areas of the house, since A’ldissa and U’sari insisted on taking care of this space. The study split off from the dining room, a door between the two. At the back corner, there was another door leading to the bed chambers.

She did as instructed and set the tray down on a side table next to a large leather chair. Her master was in the other room, but she didn’t dare enter without permission.

Calling softly toward the open door, part of her hoped she wouldn’t be heard. “I have brought your tea, sir. Where would like me to serve it?”

She waited a moment and the deep voice responded.

“Bring it in here and set it next to the bed.”

She poured the steaming liquid into the cup and delicately carried it into the bed chambers, pausing at the doorway to glance around. It was a long room, with a large poster bed in the center, a few wardrobes to one side and a sitting nook underneath a window to the other. Her master stood at the wardrobe, tying the cord of a pair of loose linen pants around his waist. The rest of him was bare.

She didn’t move from the doorway, so he turned and pointed to the side of the bed, directing her to set the cup down.

“Yes, sir.”

Hurrying over, she placed it on the end table, then stood next to the bed, arms clasped in front of her and eyes toward the floor. She was glad she had removed her boots, or she would have dirtied the plush rug that sat underneath the bed frame. Absentmindedly, she began to rub her toes against the weave until she saw two bare feet come into view.

“Something of interest down there on the floor?”

A’nallia cleared her throat, almost choking. There was no emotion in the voice but she felt he was teasing her. Her cheeks flushed as she shook her head.

“Come, sit next to me.”

Looking up, she watched her master move to rest on the edge of the bed, reaching out to take a sip of tea and placing his hand in the space beside him. She followed, gingerly sitting as she was told, keeping her hands folded in her lap. Then her master coughed again, this time heavy and hoarse, and her tension faded.

A’nallia, you fool. He asked for you because he needs healing.

She silently scolded herself for being too nervous and distracted to notice. Her one purpose, the singular thing she could do in this house, and she had failed at it. She reached out with both hands to touch him, but immediately stopped and pulled back. He hadn’t said anything, had barely even looked at her, and she remembered the incident with the child in the village.

“May I?” she asked hesitantly.