For this week, I’ve got another section from Trader Prince of Aleshtain to share. In this excerpt, Eras Dhiabhan is struggling to figure out how to deal with the slave he acquired and is finding it more difficult than he anticipated.
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The door flew open, and he lost his balance. Stumbling back, he landed on the floor. With a grimace, he shook off the pain. But he remained sitting on the floor for a minute. Stone floors were such a nuisance when one took a spill. He glanced up at Rhubhian with a sigh. She stared back down at him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. She didn’t seem to know what to do because she just stood there with fear in her eyes and hunched shoulders. He stretched out on the floor with a weary laugh. “Maybe leaning on the door was a bad idea.”
Rhubhian frowned. “You are not…angry?”
Eras pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. Just surprised. You’re finished changing.” He eyed the clothes she was wearing. Still far too revealing. He sat up and pushed himself to his feet. “But you can’t wear that.”
“It is not pleasing?”
It was. And that was the problem. “No. You can wear one of my shirts until I can have the castle seamstress make you new clothes.”
She ducked her head and refused to look at him. Was she embarrassed by her lack of clothing? Hurt that he didn’t like what she had on? Or was something else wrong that he hadn’t even guessed at yet? Women were so confusing. “Is something the matter?”
Rhubhian shook her head, but she still didn’t look at him.
Something was wrong, then. He turned away with a sigh. Women. He just couldn’t understand them. Squaring his shoulders, he stalked to the dresser and pulled out the first shirt he found. It was made from a soft white fabric, and while it might be slightly see-through due to her darker complexion, it should serve its purpose. He turned back to her. “You can have this.”She nodded and took a step forward to take it. He watched her unfold it and run her thumbs over the seams. Was she unhappy with it? Her gaze met his, and her cheeks grew dusky with a blush. “It is too nice for a slave, yes?”
He frowned. “No. It isn’t. If I can wear it, then why shouldn’t you?”“I am not a prince.”
“No, but you are a human being.” He crossed his arms. “I don’t want to hear you degrade yourself in front of me ever again. Just wear the shirt.” Why did she have to be so stubborn? Didn’t she understand that she had value, slave or not? Probably not thanks to the treatment she’d received up to this point. He would lose faith in his own value too if he’d been through what she likely had endured.
She tugged the shirt on over her head. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t really done anything.”
“You have honor. It is…rare?” Her brow creased. “Valuable, I think you say.”
“Yes. I suppose so. But it isn’t around here. Not anymore.”
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That’s all for this week, everyone! Do you have a section of your work-in-progress you want to share? If so, as always, feel free to post it in the comments below! I’d love to see what you’re all up to as well.
