Salem had officially won the worst companion to sleep with in the universe. Or perhaps it was his whole hardened demeanor, even in slumber, that denied Inayah of sleep.
She lay awake trapped between his body and the thick mattress, struggling to loosen her muscles and even then, sleep had deserted her.
Inayah was painfully aware of his breath against her temple, his heart that beat dully against her shoulder blade, every inch of his body down to the fine hairs on his legs. She lay stiff, hoping he would release her, and if not, praying for darkness to take over quickly
It did not.
Hence in the silence of the room, Inayah willed her mind to flee her current state as she thought of Sin’s recent change in behavior. His emotions gave her whiplash, racing from hot to cold, affectionate to distant.
It irked her, and not in the good way.
Being uncertain of someone’s emotions, let alone motives, made room for anxiety and panic. He was as obscure as fog at dawn. She could not see past what he was willing to let her see. And that wasn’t much.
Kade.
The tension between the two brothers was subtle enough to slice skin. Kade and Salem juxtaposed each other; so contrasting in behavior it was nearly impossible for them to be siblings.
Kade came off as charming, loud, humor filled, mischievous… in a way, he reminded her fondly of Oscar.
Salem was imperturbable, cold, distant, a rigor mortis of nothing but military hardness. Inayah felt nothing other than fear and deference for the man despite him having bedded her.
He was, afterall, her master. It was what men do. They take and take from their slaves who had been reared to give without question.
The thought, though brief, sparked something solemn in her. Inayah sighed slowly then stalled as the large man behind her shifted. She waited for his breaths to even out and grow deep. Only then did Inayah gently clasp his wrist and with more effort than expected, lifted it from across her waist. She slid out from beneath seamlessly and placed the pillow in her place. Rolling onto her back, Inayah waited for him to take note of the sudden change. But he does not.
Relieved, she rolls away slowly and straightens, feeling more exhausted than awake. She pulled the curtain back slightly and peered out onto the stretch of manicured grass, beyond that is the forest. Dawn hardly cracked through the horizon, thick fog lumbering low.
5.15 AM
Inayah exhaled a sigh of relief at the thought of waking before Mathilde. If the woman found out that she had slept in Sin’s bed… Inayah shudders at the vicious outcome and quietly finds her path out of the room.
The mansion is cold and dark.
Inayah beelines for the kitchen and out into the small garden path that leads up to the servants quarter. There she rummages through her handful of clothes for a jacket but there is none. She pulls on three pairs of socks, stockings torn at the knees and wears two long sleeves beneath her dress before wrapping a scarf around her neck, securing it tightly.
The cold frigid air stings her cheeks and nose red, it burns the back of her throat and Inayah rubs her hands vigorously whilst pacing her way back into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Inayah yelps, startled, and leaps back almost tripping over the missed step that leads into the kitchen. Kade stands by the kitchen’s counter wearing nothing but a pair of dark breeches. His Achilles golden hair is tousled about, contrasting deeply with the slight morning flush of his cheeks and heavy lidded eyes that watch her with amused curiosity. “Startled little mouse are you.”
Inayah fumbles with her scarf which had come undone around her throat, anything to avert her attention from his slender lithe torso mapped with red and black markings-- ones that resemble scriptural writings. Perhaps what stands out the most is a burn mark, darkened and slightly creased, along his right rib cage down to his hip and disappearing beneath his breeches. As though someone had attempted at branding the man but he moved in the process, dragging it down his bronzed skin, disfiguring it.
“Good morning Master Kade,” Inayah finally manages to speak, hands clasping at her front, nervously staring at her feet wide-eyed.
She hovers before him in silence.
Kade suddenly shifts, his voice light; “Please, do not let my presence disrupt your chores.” With a dismissive wave, he gestures her to carry on.
Inayah nods, shooting him one last glance before crossing the kitchen to the dead fire hearth.“Do you usually wake this early?”
“Yes,” she clears her throat, collecting ashes and dumping them into a bin. Inayah reaches for a large empty pot and huffs at the weight, cheeks puffin with air as she begins to lumber towards the fire hearth.
She almost leaps again when hands suddenly appear on either side of her shoulders, easing the pot from her hands seamlessly. “Let me,” the man works as though the pot weighs a mere pound, when truly it was eighty or so. Mathilde and her had to join efforts to move it around.
“You don’t have to,” Inayah protests mildly, but feels grateful nonetheless as he sets it down, she scratches her wrist awkwardly, “thank you.”
Kade nods, sun golden gaze slipping past her shoulders and outside, “Wood?”
Realizing his intentions, Inayah shakes her head thoroughly, already backing for the door. “No, that’s enough really, thank you for the help. Maybe go lie down as I prepare-”
Kade chuckles, “Rabbit, it is far too cold outside and you have no proper clothing,” to prove his point, he tugs at the thin scarf wrapped futilely around her neck, “consider this an apology for not completing the grand meal you prepared last night.”
Inayah faltered at his words, searching his face for skepticism or dishonesty. There is none, perhaps something intent other than mirth as he stares down at her, arching a dark eyebrow inquiringly when she does not reply immediately.
“That was Mathilde who cooked.” She murmured uselessly, shoulders hunching as he walked around her with a low laugh, his large warm palm landing atop her head, briefly ruffling it.
Inayah watched and waited, staring at his bare back as he padded barefoot down the path into the shed. She traced the burn scar that spread like flames across his lower spine; truly it must have been a gruesome sight when it happened and she feels slight sympathy for the man. But he had done a good job at partially covering it with numerous ink scriptures.
When he returned with an armful, Inayah had already set out to knead the dough, sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she pounded away, already mentally calculating how many eggs were needed and if the smoked sausages had thawed in the attic.
“Is that everything?” She felt Kade shift noiselessly behind her as he crouched low to arrange the wooden logs, then sparked two stones and fill the pot with water.
Inayah cast him a brief glance, “It is, thank you Master Kade.”
“Kade,” he corrected moving up to where she stood on a small stool in order to be more comfortable while kneading the dough on a high raised counter. Inayah tried to focus on her hands and not his presence which lingered by her left, leaning on his hip, arms crossed over his chest. His steady, penetrating gaze unnerves her. Still, she does not say anything.
“What time will you be done with breakfast preparations?”
Inayah hesitated. What did he want? “Thirty minutes…?” She cleared her throat, taking a more firm stance, “thirty minutes.”
Kade nods his head satisfied and pushes away from the counter, “Good, be ready after, I would like to take you somewhere.”