*
When she went forth to sunder offensively fast-growing branches from her red, black and green topiary, Fedni found Rasmus waiting.
He looked ridiculous. He was waiting for her in his big weird garden, not even pretending to be doing anything other than waiting. For a brief outraged moment, she considered flinging her plant shears at his head.
A full night’s sleep later, and she was still that angry. How dare he imply she was going to ask for payment when no contract existed? How dare he deny her decision was her own? How dare he think he could even afford her if she were still an acolyte?
“Fedni.”
“What?” she snapped, proving yet again he wasn’t a client. That sort of tone used while under contract would have brought harsh sanctions when the client complained.
“I apologize.”
She wasn’t impressed. He apologized frequently, didn’t he? And truly, what he’d done was horrifying.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t think it, not really. I was just...I was alarmed that you are an empath. You know that only really happens here, on Xana, right?”
He just looked at her for a moment, while she stood stonily.
“I understand the empathy, with the sex. It makes it horrible. When you’re forced to have sex with a person, and you feel his personality, his perversions. I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m angry, I guess, that you didn’t warn me. You made me into a person I don’t want to be.”
If that made any sense, maybe she could have answered dismissively. But it didn’t. It didn’t make any sense at all.
And she almost felt bad for him, the crazy off-worlder, lost in a foreign land. If the memory of his hands grabbing at her hair wasn’t so vivid, she might even be willing to forgive.
She stepped right against the fence, pointedly making him uncomfortable with her nearness. “Do you know what you taste like when you climax? Like champagne. You taste like very expensive champagne, champagne I cannot afford anymore, with just a touch of a cayenne spice.”
He blinked.
Fedni stepped back to yell at him properly.
“Who do you think I am?” she demanded. “You learn, oh, I have sold my body in temple service, and now I am someone else? I am this person you invented in your own mind.
“Who I am—” she thumped her own chest for emphasis, “—I am a grown woman. I do taste your personality, and your emotion, and I thought, I want to taste more of you, and you wanted that, so I did. I am not an idiot, I am not a child, I am not hurting you, and you wanted sex too. So we had sex! You are insane.
“You forced me to have sex with you? Is that your fantasy? Because that is how men think. Everything they don’t understand must be their secret fantasy, because the fantasy is all they think of.”
Rasmus cringed. She was taken aback, just for a moment, wondering. Perhaps that was more truth than she had expected it to be. Perhaps his fantasies were darker than you would ever guess, looking at his boy-next-door all-grown-up exterior. And if so, well, good.
Too much niceness was a sign of mental illness.
She continued her tirade. “Because there are no signs I was forced, not ever. I never told you no, I never said stop. I asked you if you wanted my mouth during the ceremony. And the first time? That was my idea too, and if you’re too naïve to see that, that’s not my problem. You think you forced me? I think you are insane!”
Their gardens fell silent, empty of sound like last hour’s bell toll, and she realized she’d been yelling. She’d never heard him yell, had she? He had remarkable self-restraint.
Except when he was fucking her. Then she could shred it like tissue paper.
She burst into tears and ran into her house, leaving her shears forgotten in the dark soil of her garden.
* * *
Fedni fumed. She seethed and cursed into the evening. She tried to distract herself with planning a small dinner gathering she would probably never throw, but she was distracted
When she went forth to sunder offensively fast-growing branches from her red, black and green topiary, Fedni found Rasmus waiting.
He looked ridiculous. He was waiting for her in his big weird garden, not even pretending to be doing anything other than waiting. For a brief outraged moment, she considered flinging her plant shears at his head.
A full night’s sleep later, and she was still that angry. How dare he imply she was going to ask for payment when no contract existed? How dare he deny her decision was her own? How dare he think he could even afford her if she were still an acolyte?
“Fedni.”
“What?” she snapped, proving yet again he wasn’t a client. That sort of tone used while under contract would have brought harsh sanctions when the client complained.
“I apologize.”
She wasn’t impressed. He apologized frequently, didn’t he? And truly, what he’d done was horrifying.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t think it, not really. I was just...I was alarmed that you are an empath. You know that only really happens here, on Xana, right?”
He just looked at her for a moment, while she stood stonily.
“I understand the empathy, with the sex. It makes it horrible. When you’re forced to have sex with a person, and you feel his personality, his perversions. I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m angry, I guess, that you didn’t warn me. You made me into a person I don’t want to be.”
If that made any sense, maybe she could have answered dismissively. But it didn’t. It didn’t make any sense at all.
And she almost felt bad for him, the crazy off-worlder, lost in a foreign land. If the memory of his hands grabbing at her hair wasn’t so vivid, she might even be willing to forgive.
She stepped right against the fence, pointedly making him uncomfortable with her nearness. “Do you know what you taste like when you climax? Like champagne. You taste like very expensive champagne, champagne I cannot afford anymore, with just a touch of a cayenne spice.”
He blinked.
Fedni stepped back to yell at him properly.
“Who do you think I am?” she demanded. “You learn, oh, I have sold my body in temple service, and now I am someone else? I am this person you invented in your own mind.
“Who I am—” she thumped her own chest for emphasis, “—I am a grown woman. I do taste your personality, and your emotion, and I thought, I want to taste more of you, and you wanted that, so I did. I am not an idiot, I am not a child, I am not hurting you, and you wanted sex too. So we had sex! You are insane.
“You forced me to have sex with you? Is that your fantasy? Because that is how men think. Everything they don’t understand must be their secret fantasy, because the fantasy is all they think of.”
Rasmus cringed. She was taken aback, just for a moment, wondering. Perhaps that was more truth than she had expected it to be. Perhaps his fantasies were darker than you would ever guess, looking at his boy-next-door all-grown-up exterior. And if so, well, good.
Too much niceness was a sign of mental illness.
She continued her tirade. “Because there are no signs I was forced, not ever. I never told you no, I never said stop. I asked you if you wanted my mouth during the ceremony. And the first time? That was my idea too, and if you’re too naïve to see that, that’s not my problem. You think you forced me? I think you are insane!”
Their gardens fell silent, empty of sound like last hour’s bell toll, and she realized she’d been yelling. She’d never heard him yell, had she? He had remarkable self-restraint.
Except when he was fucking her. Then she could shred it like tissue paper.
She burst into tears and ran into her house, leaving her shears forgotten in the dark soil of her garden.
* * *
Fedni fumed. She seethed and cursed into the evening. She tried to distract herself with planning a small dinner gathering she would probably never throw, but she was distracted
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