I sit on one of the cushions, smoothing out the dress that I changed back into after the garden. I don't know why I'm so nervous. I've faced down aliens with guns, I've been tortured, I've nearly died more times than I can count. But meeting this...man, this master of mine, makes my stomach twist and my palms sweat.
What is he going to do to me? What does he want from me? Is he going to be like the other aliens, cruel and cold? Or is he going to be like Mira, cheerful and oblivious? No - that one I can be pretty sure is not the case. He owns a moon. No one who owns a moon is oblivious.
I wait, my heart pounding, my hands clenching in my lap. I try to calm my breathing, to steady my nerves. I need to be ready for anything. I need to be strong.
The doors open again, and I look up, my breath catching in my throat.
He is. Beautiful. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And yet, it's in a... deeply unsettling way. And he's tall. Taller than even those tall greys had been. So tall his head brushes the top of the doorway when he walks in. His skin is a pale, pearlescent blue, his hair a waterfall of black silk, adorned with jewels and gold, interspersed with some kind of moth-like antennae that might be decorative. His neck is unnaturally long, with extreme ruffles of skin that remind me of a frilled lizard or - that fancy... cravat? That old rich person neck thing. His eyes are large even for his face. Rather than white, his eyes have the same pearlescent blue of his skin, save for his irises that are an intense gold. His pupils look faintly angular, but his face is at such a distance it's hard for me to tell. His face is sharp and delicate. Refined. His ears are... quite prominent. They seem sort of... shell-like in the center, but then spread out into long, delicate fins that remind me of some kind of old flying machine wings.
He's wearing a long, flowing robe, black with gold trim which is open in the front and reveals part of a smooth, muscled chest, and yet he holds himself with a kind of regal dignity.
And every bit of him is covered in some kind of gold jewelry. His ears are pierced with what seems like dozens of earrings. His long, claw-tipped fingers are covered in rings, his neck, his arms. There are gems and gold decorating his hair and his clothes. Even his skin itself is painted with some kind of elaborate design.
He looks... rich. Unfathomably rich. And... powerful. Not just influential, not in that sense, but as if there's some kind of innate, inner power to him. Like he could do anything he wanted, and the universe would bend to his will.
I don't know how I know this. But I do.
I don't need an introduction. I already know who this man must be, even if I weren't waiting in his room for him.
The doors shut behind him, and he looks at me with those huge, golden eyes. I can't read his expression. I can't tell if he's pleased, or displeased, or indifferent. He just... looks.
I don't know what to do. Should I bow? Kneel? Say something? Attempt to stab him with the small knife I still have in my boot?
With his size, would it even do anything? I'm not sure.
He moves, and I flinch, my body tensing. But he just walks around the table, his steps light, graceful. He sits down across from me, on one of the cushions, and folds his long legs beneath him. His robes spill around him, pooling on the floor.
Despite sitting down....
He towers over me. He still seems huge, even from here. I feel tiny in comparison, like a mouse in front of a dragon. I swallow hard, my throat dry.
He tilts his head, studying me. His voice is soft, smooth, melodic. "Sarah. That is your name, correct?"
I nod, not trusting my own voice.
"I am Xilukulkas." He says, as if I don't already know that. "I am...pleased to finally meet you. I have been looking forward to it."
His words don't make sense to me. "You... have?" I blink.
"Of course." He smiles. It is at once a prim, cold gesture, and yet oddly warm. "You are quite a fascinating creature, little human. Causing so much trouble for the Xilogians... It's impressive. A sub-sapient species should not have been able to do what you did."
My jaw clenches at the sub-sapient comment, and my eyes narrow. "I'm not a sub-sapient."
"Ah, yes." He nods. "I must apologize. I have heard tale of your confrontation with Llywelyn in the dining room. I've been remiss in preparing you for our introduction. Of course, you are a sentient being, Sarah." He sounds completely sincere. No trace of mockery in his tone. "It is impossible to be condition resistant and sub-sapient. That is, after all, the very definition."
"If. You agree. Then why am I here?" I manage to ask, my voice rough.
"You are here because I cannot bear such a unique specimen be destroyed." He says, simply, as if he has all the logic in the world on his side.
"You bought me to... save me?" I don't understand.
"Hardly. Were I to purchase each sentient being in danger of destruction, I would surely bankrupt myself." He says, dryly, and then picks up a small, round fruit from a bowl on the table. "I purchased you because you interested me. It is a rather pleasant thing to also be spared though, is it not?"
I...
I know it's a waste. And I shouldn't be pushing things when this dangerous figure is so calm and accommodating, but I just. Can't help it. "If I'm a sentient, you have to let me go."
He offers me an indulgent smile. "The classification, such as it exists now, is species-wide." He shakes his head, setting the bitten fruit down, for a moment, before he gives a short hum. It is... a dizzying sound in a manner I can't quite pin-point. "Were you to be ruled sentient even so, however, you would still be executed for the mass killing of sentients. And the release of two dozen sub-sapients. Is that what you want?"
I open my mouth and then close it, my teeth clacking together.
I hadn't thought about it in that way. Obviously. They were... my captors. And I - well, I certainly wasn't acting with any concern for what a corrupt and twisted empire's laws were. But here I am. Trapped by them.
"I am afraid such a question is meaningless." He shakes his head. "You are an Anamalous Subsapient." He lifts a clawed hand, "Please, forgive me, but it is the term. There are no laws or precedents for a condition resistant, sentient being of a slave species. You are... simply not recognized to exist." He sighs and gives me a pitying look. "This means you are not protected by the rights of a sentient. It is not a thing that can be easily changed even by one such as I." He plucks up the fruit again, and bites into it. I watch a drop of golden juice roll down his thumb.
I want to be angry. I want to argue. But... he's right. I'm in a system that doesn't even acknowledge me as a person. What can I possibly do?
And the idea of being executed for murder, when - after I'd been...
I shake my head shoving the thoughts away, and then turn a wary gaze up toward him. "Then. What am I? Here. I mean."
"You are my guest. And my property." He tells me, with that same gentle smile. "You are free to move about the manor as you wish, so long as you do not cause trouble. You may hold any schedule that you desire, and interact with the others as you will. You have my protection. None would dare to lay hand on my property. You may choose your daily tasks and when you do them, or it will be assigned to you. Either way is acceptable. You may ask of me any thing you need, and it shall be provided. You are safe, Sarah. You will not be harmed."
"A...assigned?" I stare at him, "What if I don't Want. A duty." I hate the idea of being told what to do.
He smiles again. The longer I look at him, the more I feel like I'm looking at a piece of living art. It's like... my eyes are being deceived. I'm not seeing a person, I'm seeing some kind of painting, or statue. Something that can't possibly be real.
"It is not a punishment. The duties are simple. Cooking. Cleaning. Gardening. Maintenance. Whatever you choose, it is to keep you occupied. You may not choose to do nothing at all. That is not permitted. But you may choose something simple. It is up to you."
I...
I don't know what to think. This is so different from anything I've experienced so far. Softer. Gentler. But... it's still slavery. I'm still a possession. A thing. Not a person.
"And if I refuse?" I ask, quietly.
He considers this for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "I would be very disappointed in you, Sarah. I do not wish to make you unhappy." He sets the fruit down, fully eaten save for its vibrant yellow pit. "It is not good to have idle hands. I cannot abide it, for anyone. If you are ill, I will be lenient. If you are in a state of mourning or distress, I will wait until you are well. But if you refuse to be a part of this household, you will be punished."
I don't know what kind of punishment he means, but I don't want to find out. "And if I try to escape?"
He laughs. A soft, melodic sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "You may try. You will not succeed. You are free to go anywhere on my moon, but you will find there is no escape from it. Not without my permission, and I will not give it. And if you harm anyone in the attempt... I will be forced to take drastic measures." His smile fades, just a touch. "Your exploits are quite fascinating, and I will enjoy hearing of them from you. But I will not tolerate harm to mine, even from mine. Is that understood?"
I nod, swallowing hard.
"Good." He stands up, his robes swirling around him, and I have to tilt my head back to look at his face. He looks down at me with those big, unreadable eyes. "I am pleased to meet you, Sarah. I am sure we will have many interesting conversations. I shall scold Llywelyn for his carelessness. Please do enjoy this life. You deserve it, for what you have suffered. And do not hesitate to call upon me should you need anything."
He turns, and walks away, his steps silent on the rug. The doors open for him, and he's gone, leaving me alone in the room, my head spinning.
I don't... I don't understand. I don't know what to think. This man, this...alien. He's not what I expected. Not at all. He's not cruel, or violent, or cold. He's...strange. Unnerving. But...not unkind. And that's almost scarier than if he was. Because I don't know what to do with that.