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This lazy agricultural settlement rests on the swampy shores of the Middle Suvan at the delta of The Kenash River. The River's slow moving bayou waters have bred a different sort of people - rugged, cultured, and somewhat violent. Sprawling plantations of tobacco and cotton grow on the outskirts of the swamp in the rich Cyphrus soils, while the city itself curls around the bayou and spawns decadence and sins of all sorts. Life is slower in Kenash, but the lack of pace is made up for in the excesses of food and flesh in a city where drinking, debauchery, gambling, slavery, and overbearing plantation families dominate the landscape.
„Right“, Adair replied as Shayna told him that she had no personal business. „So you never do anything forbidden? Never contradict your mistress‘ orders? Your life must be pretty boring if you never go anywhere unless Katherine Morealis has explicitely ordered you do so.“
Truth to be told, the whole talk about whose business was whose business and who didn’t have any business confused him somewhat. He rolled his eyes and looked rather stupid for a moment, and then he just decided to let the matter be and comment on her next statement.
„I never make my slaves wait longer than is absolutely necessary.“
Adair Askara was indeed rather kind to his slaves. He’d made the house slaves (that were all male) wear frilly pink dresses once, but apart from that he treated them fairly for the most part.
He even considered some of them something like friends!
„It would be awkward“, he agreed. „But also funny. Imagine the look on your mistress‘ face when I jump out of a bush! I get what you mean though. So you think I should just walk up to her, say good morning and tell her that I had a most secret meeting with somebody here, but not tell her who it was?“
„I’m not exactly sure how to deal with this situation anymore, so a little advice would be appreciated.“
He gave her his best, most charming, innocent and pleading look.
Shayna came to a stop at the banks of the river, her functional shoes that were definitely not made for style but for protection barely staying out of the water. Her dress, another functional but cheap and unadorned covers her body loosely, generically and even the rough hair tie that holds her black mass high upon the crown of her head is of poor quality. Yet her shoulders are held back, her chin held high, none of the docile servitude that seems to roll off house servants graces her. Even when she is careful to keep from meeting higher born eyes, she does so with an air of almost arrogance.
Yet it took work to cultivate that, it was a fine line to walk and so far she had walked it well. Always anticipating what the other wanted, even if they themselves did not understand what they wanted. It was wearying and Shayna was tired. It was a split second decision, and one that if she had thought about it was probably one that she could regret in the near future, but she let go of the facade. Her shoulders do not hunch, but they do lilt just a little and she whirls on her unwanted companion, her green eyes hard and having none of the traces of humility in them. When she speaks her voice is calm but with a tone of speaking to a child.
"I suggest. That if you want this to blow over then you stop acting like you have something to hide." Without missing a beat, the slave girl places her roughened hands on her hips and tilts her head to the side. "You complain about how you have this deep horrible secret, you ask silly questions as if I have the luxury you do of disobedience." Shayna was now on a roll, and perhaps it was just unfortunate that the person that finally sparked her temper was a Dynasty member. The words tumble from her mouth, and kept tumbling "Tell me, My Lord, what have you ever risked to disobey? A little bit of money might be withheld? Perhaps someone might gossip? Next time you think of how boring my life must be waiting until Mistress Katherine grants me permission to do something, think about living life with the fear of being whipped or ...worse." Abruptly Shayna stops, her eyes widen as she realized how she was speaking..to a high born, not even just to a Freeborn but a Dynasty member.
Adair’s shoes were made of very fine leather and had probably cost ten times as much as Shayna’s entire outfit, but they weren’t exactly made for walking around near the banks of a river. They weren’t waterproof, so the moment the Askara made a wrong step because he was paying more attention to the slave than to his surroundings, he felt something very unpleasant and wet. He frowned and shook his right foot a little, and then he turned to Shayna and frowned at her. He had noticed the hard look in her eyes. She seemed to be unhappy with him.
He didn’t want her to be unhappy with him, even though she was just Katherine Morealis‘ slave.
„Alright“, he agreed. „I’ll stop. I don’t really have any secrets, and everything’s fine. But my questions weren’t silly. I don’t know what your Mistress Katherine is like, but I don’t whip my slaves when they disobey. I don’t mind a little rebellion every now and then. In fact I absolutely hate slaves that grovel in front of my feet and don’t have a will of their own.“
He stopped abruptly and his gaze softened. „Would she really hurt you? If I said something wrong, I’m sorry. Are you very mad at me?“ He was rather concerned about her wellbeing now. Had he been completely sober and had a good night of sleep, he might have reacted differently, but as it was he felt an almost overwhelming sadness all of a sudden …
… although the imagine of Katherine Morealis holding a whip in her hands wasn’t entirely unappealing …
Groaning inwardly Shayna, berates herself for losing her control of her tongue, quadrupled by the fact that now he had stepped in the mud. She did not fear physical repercussions, what she did fear was more repercussions on a basic political level. A slave that was not mindful, respectful, and obedient did not get a long well in the world. Her entire mannerism seemed to relax just a little, there were no more rigid forced movements that were intended to convey one set of emotions or not. Instead Shayna did something that even slaves rarely saw, she relaxed her guard just a little as he spoke.
"Forgive me. I was..way out of line." She says, not in a groveling tone but neither was it hard or scornful. It might be one of the rare times she allows her own true emotions to be shown and not one that was contrived simply to please another..or hurt another. "I am a very good slave. I haven't had to find out Mistress Katherine's favorite form of punishment. Many use belts, some use solitary confinement, and others use more...mental punishments that are meant to teach a slave how to...submit." The last word is said in a matter of fact way, but includes a little tick in her jaw. "A good slave avoids finding out their Master or Mistress' preferred methods. A bad slave.." A little sardonic smile is given, "Well they typically do not stay bad long."
Her unusual green eyes turn out toward the river, looking both for her Mistress -it would not do for Katherine to catch Shayna in a candid moment- but also for any prying ears that might run back. "It is dangerous to talk to slaves about disobedience. One might think that you were encouraging that...and that is not a good thing." For the first time since they had met, Shayna turned fully to Adair, and gives him a smile. "Have a care, for though you are one of the privileged does not mean that it can't go ..badly for you if you are seen as a sympathizer."
Adair didn’t think that there was anything wrong with Shayna’s behaviour of course. In fact he rather enjoyed it that she was talking to him a bit more openly now. All the subservience and the carefully controlled tone of her voice had really been getting on his nerves!
„There’s no need to apologize“, he informed her. „You were just saying what’s on your mind. I’m probably one of the few dynasty members that are safe to talk to. And I’m glad that you are a very good slave and haven’t been forced to find out what your mistress favourite form of punishment is yet. Although I’m a little curious, I have to admit.“
He glanced at his right shoe again that was dirty and ugly and uncomfortable now. He would throw his shoes away when he got home, he decided, and buy new ones. He’d already worn those shoes too often anyway!
„I’m not encouraging you to be a bad slave“, he informed her. „And nobody is listening to us at the moment, so you don’t have to worry. And what if I’m a sympathizer? Whipping slaves and locking them up in a room without food and water is not a lot of fun and terribly conventional on top of it.“
„I’d rather be true to myself than treat my slaves like dirt. Slaves are people as well, you know?“
Shayna is not completely certain that Adair is not having fun at her expenses, for surely no one has talked so openly to her, especially about such a controversial subject. Suddenly she began to allow a small thread of paranoia snake through her thoughts, wondering if he were simply trying to get her to reveal things about ...the Rujaro. Even thinking that sent a chill of fear through her, as she looks around suspiciously again.
"Safe or not, there are ears everywhere sir." She says in a soft voice, eyeing him openly, trying to decide if he was legitimately sympathetic to a slaves plight, and even more naive about the trouble that could get him into. "There are slaves who will turn in their own children if it meant a better station in the house. While it would take more then an overheard conversation between a lord and a slave girl, it would be more then enough to start whispering and suspicions."
Tilting her head just a little, again not a contrived movement but one of genuine curiosity. But she does not ask the question on her mind, instead she turns away once more, looking out across the river.
„I doubt that there are any ears besides ours here at the moment“, Adair replied as she voiced her concerns. „It’s what? A little after the sixth bell? I’ve lost track of time while I was up there, but anyway, even spies need to sleep sometimes!“
„And I’m glad that most of my slaves don’t have children they can sacrifice“, he continued. „Our house slaves are all male and kind of gay, sometimes.“
He looked around curiously, but Katherine Morealis was nowhere to be seen, so he turned back to Shayna.
„So …“ he wondered. „Do you think I can quietly take my leave now, just like I initially planned?“
"It's when your least suspicious, when the shoe drops, sir." Shayna cautions, again with a wry twist of her lips. Her fingers raise to ensure that her black strands of hair is put into place, and she arranges her simple spun dress as she turns to face the direction her Mistress would certainly be coming from.
"Your house does seem.. interesting to say the least. Until we speak again, better that you be off then when my Mistress comes. She will wonder why you were here at such an hour, and wonder why I am passing the time idly." She turns her green eyes back to him, gives him a brief smile before she composes herself once more. It would not do to allow Mistress Katherine to see her less then composed and ready.
