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Chapter 46. Toy |
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emony awakened with a start when the heavy bedroom door opened and Josef strode back into the parlor. She had slept for at least an hour, stiff and aching beneath the close press of her clothing and the sweaty weight of the wig. From the streets came the hush of the hours before dawn issuing through the open windows. The woman did not follow him out and presumably rested now as her client prepared to leave. Falling asleep, if only for a short time, had been a small mercy. She hated him with a passion unrivaled. Resentment seethed within her, nearly causing her to forget herself and speak. How dare he treat her like this, how dare he drag her along to a prostitute’s house on his way to whatever errand he was running in Kaineng. It was just one more reminder of his contempt for her and anyone he felt beneath him. “My daughter is in the other room. Go get her. I am taking her home and you will be her nanny.” Lemony stared at him for what she realized was far too long. Snarling an oath, he grasped her arm and twisted it fiercely until she whimpered in pain. “Do as you are told, stupid creature.” Lemony winced away from him. Everything he did was just one more reminder that she was nothing more than a toy to be used and discarded as it suited him. Thankfully it suited him to ignore her most of the time. Now that she was under the full glare of his attention, however, she trembled, knowing that the slightest mistake could evoke more cruelty. She shuffled into the narrow room and relaxed out of his sight, pausing to listen for the tread of his boots. The clink of glass and purl of liquid indicated he had found a bottle of spirits and was occupying himself with that. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, Lemony cast around for a sign that something lived there, thinking it unlikely a child would remain quiet under such conditions. A narrow cot was pressed against the wall that separated the prostitute’s room from this one. A stained mattress lay upon it stripped of all bedding and leaking feathers from a frayed seam. Lemony took another step within and discovered a pair of pretty wooden dolls lying near her toes. Then Lemony saw a small figure hunched in the farthest corner of the chamber with the bedding gathered around her in a tattered nest. Her raven hair was bound up in braids and she wore a loose flower-patterned tunic over pantaloons. As Lemony drew closer, the little girl sighed softly and trembled in fear. Lemony was shocked by the gleam of tears and the quiet snuffling of grief. It probably did not help that a large man and a strange woman resembling a formidable doll had invaded the child’s sanctuary. “Hurry up, Poppet. I grow impatient.” Lemony held out a hand to the girl, relieved when she numbly clasped it, then cleaved tightly to her side. It felt like betrayal leading the poor little thing back into the parlor where Josef awaited them. Lemony lowered her face as Josef loomed over them, his gloved hand lifting the little girl’s pretty face up so that he could examine her in the warm lantern light. “I am your father, Xue Xue. You must obey me now. Understand?” Trembling, the little girl nodded but did not pull away. It was as if she sensed Josef was dangerous, a knowing beyond her tender years. “Come,” he said then, turning away and moving toward the door. Lemony paused to wrap an arm around the girl’s shoulders before guiding her out onto the landing and down the stairs. To her surprise, Josef led them back to one of the city’s many carriage houses and met up with Orphit and the familiar bulk of the wallow coach standing idle and ready to depart. They had originally come by sigil out of House Zu Heltzer, but the child had no doubt never traveled far from home and would need to be borne overland. So this was Joseph’s reason for dragging her here. Why the sudden impulse toward fatherhood? Lemony hated not knowing what was going on. Most of the time she was left to languish in Josef’s room, straying from it only for a few moments to relieve herself or attempt to find out what had become of Mog. She had hoped during this journey she would see Keisha and find out if she were still alive. Locked within the rocking velvety darkness of the carriage, Lemony soon lost track of time. The little girl wrapped her narrow arms around Lemony’s waist and buried her delicate face in the cascades of lace and satin gathered there. By nightfall they arrived at one of the tiny inns that cropped up around the root infested track. Thankfully, Josef slept the day away, leaving Lemony alone to snuggle the quiet little girl. A pair of rooms on the upper floor was procured for them and Josef made it clear he wished Lemony to share one cramped room with the girl while he dwelt alone in the larger more well-appointed one. Relieved, she convinced one of the inn keep’s daughters to help her out of the miserable corset and bring her a small basin of hot water for bathing. Freed at last from the mask, she ate ravenously, never knowing when she would be allowed to do so again. Once the painful edge of her hunger was gone, she slowed in her dining and urged the little girl to come share what remained, ashamed of herself for being so selfish. “Josef will kill you,” the little girl whispered. The hair of Lemony’s nape stood on end and she stared at the girl, horrified that such words came from such an innocent looking child. What could she say to comfort the girl when she herself lived in constant fear of what Josef might do if he fell into one of his rages or decided to amuse himself at their expense? “Xue Xue, why do you say such things?” “He killed my mother,” Xue Xue said, her voice barely audible, “He thinks about you the same way.” Lemony swallowed, trying to remain calm. Had Josef killed that poor woman? Had that been his intention all along when he had come to claim his daughter? But how did Xue Xue know when Lemony herself had detected nothing unusual? Of course there had been muffled cries of pain. Josef had no compunction about satisfying his prodigious lusts at the expense of others and she had overheard similar outbursts from the mistresses he invited into his chambers. He had never killed any of them and they continued to visit at his behest. Was he really capable of cold blooded murder? Yes. There was a predatory emptiness in that man’s soul. If he had ever possessed a heart, it had died long ago. The only joy he knew was in the domination and suffering of others. “I’m sure your mother is alright, Xue Xue,” Lemony murmured, holding the child gently and stroking her back. She prayed the child was wrong. It was too horrible to imagine the girl had heard her mother die. Xue Xue clung to her like a burr. “Let me comb out your hair, sweet one, and then I’ll tell you a story to help you sleep.” The girl complied and they sat on the bed together as Lemony unwound the braids and drew a fine ivory comb through the child’s silky locks. Her clothes were in good repair and smelled of lavender and her hair reflected good health and grooming. Clearly the child’s mother had cared for the little girl. It was hard to imagine she would have willingly released Xue Xue willingly into Josef’s hands. The little girl’s eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion as Lemony ripped one of her petticoats where Josef could not see it and used it to wrap the child’s long black hair for bed. “You don’t have to tell me a story,” Xue Xue yawned, “You don’t have any happy ones.” Lemony swallowed, biting her limp against an unexpected surge of emotion. “Don’t cry, Poppet,” Josef said, feigning concern as he leaned in the doorway watching, “Go to sleep now, Daughter. Poppet is coming with me.” Lemony shuddered, sniffling softly as she attempted to prevent a rush of tears. Trying to maintain a semblance of calm, she drew back the blankets of the bed and tucked little Xue Xue in, ignoring Josef until the child was comfortable. “Good night,” the girl whispered, “You better go.” It was eerie being in the child’s presence. She was old beyond her time and knew things she was far too young to understand. Lemony lowered her face, wondering if Josef would punish her for showing it in his presence. He thought her ugly and stupid and rarely missed an opportunity to remind her of that. He stepped aside as she reached the door. “Get in my bed and stay there until I am ready.” Lemony swallowed, knowing he would use her that night, as he had many times before. He was bored and in a cruel turn of mind. She could see it in his eyes. If only the gods would strike him dead. If only she had the ability to do so herself. An unwelcome tear rolled down her cheek. Ama and Josef were quick to remind her of the consequences to Mog if she dared to resist them. They might already have killed him and she would be none the wiser. She was not in a position to demand that they prove he lived, and yet she dared not give them an excuse to harm him. Gods, please let Mog be safe. It was a constant prayer that winged through her mind, particularly when she faced Josef’s tender mercies. She was not sure she could go on like this, and yet the thought of Mog dead or suffering was worse than anything she had yet to endure. There could be nothing so binding as love. Why did Josef, so incapable of feeling anything for another human being, understand this so well? He could bend her to his will and never fear that she would resist. Gods she hated him. He deserved to die. |
