Taking another sip, I kept my head down but my body relaxed, hoping he understood that I was willing to listen if not participate.
Sighing heavily, he continued in his cool timbre. “I returned because no one should have to live in such a fucking hellhole. I hope you know you’ll never be subjected to those conditions again.”
My muscles tensed.
But what will you do to me?
Do you intend to keep me, free me…sell me?
My current position didn’t petrify me, but the unknown future did. How long would he tolerate his boat being a convalescent home? How soon would he expect me to pay him back?
And how?
How will I be made to pay you back?
Because everything in this world had a price tag.
“Just because I’ve taken you for my own doesn’t mean I’m like him. I do expect things—the main one being your past and present. I want to know who you are. I want to know your real name, where you’re from, and what you would do if you were free. I need to master you, Pim…but in a different way to what you expect.”
I jolted.
I ignored the mastering part, entirely focused on the word free.
If I was free.
Not when I was free.
I didn’t realise how much I was holding onto hope that his intentions were honourable and wherever we were sailing to might’ve ended with a journey home.
Stupid Pim.
I’d been given safety and sanctuary. I should know by now not to expect anything more—especially my freedom.
That had been stolen, and it would remain stolen. I doubted it would ever be returned. I would be forever lost and go from master to master until I was too old, ugly, and broken to be of value.
Elder didn’t notice the way I huddled over my soup, doing my best to ignore the crushing disappointment and focus on how lucky I was. I refused to lament over things I didn’t have when I’d been given so much.
Biting his lip as he curled an intricate fold, Elder finished the origami then looked up. “All of that can wait. For now, all I expect is for you to heal quickly. I want you to eat when required, sleep when your body tells you, and forget what he did to you.”
Those commandments were doable.
I took another sip before my stomach decided it’d had enough and tiredness settled like a cloak instead.
Elder stood in silent reproach.
I sat taller in my chair, trying to seem stronger than I was.
“Don’t fear me, silent one, but don’t push me either. When I know what I want from you—other than who you are—I’ll let you know. And I’ll expect you to do what I want. But until then…” His fingers uncurled, depositing an impeccable sailboat origami by my broken hand. “I won’t touch you. You have my word.”
Striding to the door, he added, almost too low to hear as if it was purely for him. “I won’t touch you for my sake rather than yours.”
I spun in the chair as quickly as my bruised ribs would allow.
What do you mean by that?
Pausing on the threshold, Elder said, “I have work to do. Have a bath, a nap, write—whatever you want. I’ll summon you when I’m done.” Giving me a cool smile, he pointed at the coffee table in the sunken lounge where a black box with a grey ribbon rested. “Your notes to the person you call No One are all there. When you’re ready to talk, you can’t lie to me. Not after I’ve had the privilege of reading your darkest thoughts.”
I swallowed hard.
Those weren’t for you, you bastard.
My unbroken hand balled as he bowed slightly. “Until we meet again.” Then he was gone, slipping like a shadow from the room.
His presence lingered, giving me no peace. My anger that he’d invaded my privacy and read my letters boiled over as I clutched the origami boat. The urge to crush it was strong, but the memory of why he’d made it made me pause.
He’d sat beside me and created this gift because he understood what it meant. He’d given me something of value. Yet, he’d also taken something of value away.
He’d robbed me of my confessions. He’d read what wasn’t his to read.
Stroking the fine creases of such an intricate little boat, I marvelled at how his brutal fingers had made something so delicate. If he could hold something so gently and twist common into beauty…then perhaps he wasn’t like Alrik, after all.
Maybe, just maybe, he spoke the truth when he said he wouldn’t hurt me. And if that was the case, then whatever payments he expected in return would be paid, if not willingly, at least less painfully than before.
As the sea rolled beneath my feet and the horizon welcomed with turquoise water, I forced myself to admit that this was just another prison, and he was just another puppeteer, but at least, I was still alive.