Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
It was a good thing, too, as the clasp was surprisingly difficult to work in reverse. After a few days I had stopped trying.
I pushed my feet into one of the many pairs of black leather shoes that I had been given. Changing shoes several times a day had made a huge difference in my foot and back pain from standing through meal times, not to mention the blisters I had been developing.
I had started to hope for stockings or tights to appear. But after he had touched my bare skin, I was not so sure. His touch had stunned me at first, but I had craved it after a moment. I must be starved for affection, I decided. It had nothing to do with Anton himself. It had simply been too long since I had been given a hug from my papa or a friend.
I would ask for a day off to go see some of my former classmates, I decided. I would remind myself that I was a young woman with my whole life ahead of me. I would not be simply standing around serving a rich man his wine for the rest of my days.
Even Anton Aslanov could not expect me to work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
I hurried down the wide, sweeping staircase, then to the servant’s stairs, which were much more utilitarian. I was late for breakfast, as usual. But they had started leaving more food for me, after Anton had commented that I was losing weight.
I ate my meal alone, savoring the incredible way the chef prepared eggs and toast. There was a little pot of honey for my tea, sweet fruit preserves for my toast, and a different assortment of breakfast meats that were always savory and delicious.
I was quite spoiled in the food department, and I had begun to really enjoy it. I had never thought much about food or cared about high end skin creams before. But the luxury of this way of living was pleasurable in a way I had never experienced.
I wanted to linger, mostly due to nerves at facing my captor after what had happened last night. But I was too afraid to be late. I set my dirty dishes on the counter near the team of dishwashers, who were already hard at work. One of them nodded and I smiled back. As usual with all the staff, he ignored me.
Everyone ignored me, other than a polite nod or hello. It was strange. I would have assumed that there would be some level of camaraderie among the servants, but there wasn’t. At least not when I was around. I could have sworn I heard laughter or chatter from time to time, but when I walked into the room, it dried up immediately.
Strange, but I couldn’t see any reason for it, so I held my chin up and nodded back, ignoring the aching loneliness inside me.
I reapplied my lip gloss in the ladies rest room for servants, then hastened up the stairs. I wasn’t as eager to see Anton as usual. I was nervous and embarrassed. But I couldn’t entirely squelch the little butterflies I got when I knew I was going to see his handsome face.
He was already waiting when I arrived. My eyes darted to the clock. I was not late, thankfully. I had several minutes to spare. But I reminded myself that in the future, it would be better to be early.
I curtsied awkwardly. I had gotten used to it. But after the night before, it felt strange.
“Coffee, sir?”
His lips quirked. He held up his cup. I curtsied again.
“You are going to wear yourself out doing that,” he said mildly, picking up his newspaper. “I’ll take eggs and sausage, please.”
I curtsied again without thinking, ignoring the low laugh coming from the head of the table. I made him a plate and carried it over to him. He set his paper aside. I thought he was reaching for his fork, but instead he grabbed my wrist. I stood there, waiting.
“I apologize for last night, Mishka. For my guests and for myself.”
I swallowed. I had not expected him to say anything like that. It made me feel like my heart was twisting in my chest, but not in a painful way. My heart felt turned upside down in what I could only describe as a bittersweet way. He was treating me like a human. Like a valued human, instead of a piece of chattel. After waiting on him hand and foot for so long, it felt strange.
His fingertip slid over my wrist, stroking me.
“Do you think you can ever forgive me?”
I looked at him, at last. He was giving me a sweet, endearing look. He resembled a little boy, even though he was not. I could not bear to be cruel to him. But I did see an opportunity to get some clarity on my situation.