The days after our conversation, I began my training at Luuvia's side. I no longer thought of her as a friend, but instead as a master and I her servant.
Luuvia takes the breakfast that the servants bring and I find it strangely fascinating to watch her eat. She uses a great deal of different utensils, different forks and knives made of what looks like pure silver. Never before have I seen such cutlery before, hell, I've never even eaten off a real porcelain plate before and hers are plated with gold.
I sit on the floor next to her table, not sure what I'm supposed to do in this situation. I can't tell what is expected of me and I awkwardly wait for some kind of instruction or correction. The elven princess looks down at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment she hesitates, as though she can't make up her mind on how to act. Then she points a finger at her glass. "When your mistress eats dinner, you are to refill my glass whenever it is empty."
She moves her hand and pushes off one of the forks. "Whenever I drop a piece of cutlery, you are to replace it with a clean one immediately. If I drop a glass or spill something, you will be required to clean it up and dispose of it. Do you understand that Kaesar?"
Her voice sounds harsher all of a sudden, as though she replaced her understanding kindness with the stern attitude of a teacher. I suppose it's less humiliating than sitting under the table like a common dog… An instinctive growl forms in my throat and my fists clench at my sides. Luuvia looks at me sharply and in response the collar around my neck sparks to live. Red, hot pain surges through me and I whine, the sensation dropping me to my knees in a position of surrender.
"Don't get me wrong, Kaesar, I do not approve of many things that are done to your kind but I cannot allow you to act however you please here. This is not your home, other people will expect me to teach you our rules. If I do not, they will take you away from me and I will be regarded as incapable of keeping my wolf in check. Neither of those would be pleasant for you, I can guarantee you this."
The pain from the collar subsides but her piercing gaze remains. "So, I expect you to follow my orders, Kaesar, is that understood? The quicker you adapt to the rules of the city, the less pain you will have to endure."
I bite back a snarl, keeping my expression in check, as I nod. "Understood." I can't understand how she manages to switch from being nice to this, seemingly without a hitch. But then again, there is too much I don't know about her. And who knows, maybe she's just trying to soften me up by pretending to empathize with my kind.
Pushing myself back onto my feet, I hurry over to the pitcher of crystalline clear water and refill her glass. She nods, as though satisfied with the lesson she's taught me. Then, she gestures over her shoulder. "During dinner or any other gatherings, you will be standing about three feet behind me, unless I require something of you. In the throne room, you will join the other personal wolves at the side of the room, so you do not attract any attention. In these occasions you will be quiet."
I open my mouth to say something and yet again burning agony floods my system, as she activates the collar. This time I can't help the helpless whimper that tears itself from my throat. Will I ever get used to this pain? Doubled over, it takes me a moment to catch my breath, then I glare up at her. "What was that for?" I groan and her face grows colder.
"When in public, you will never speak without being asked to do so. And you will never, I repeat, never talk back at me, or question my decisions. Is that clear?" Her voice is like an icy wind, sending shivers down my spine but I have no other choice but to obey. After all, she is my mistress and I am but her slave. I have to obey her every word if I don't wish to live in constant agony.
I clench my teeth together, rage and shame bubbling in my chest, threatening to spill over. The dark mist whispers into my ear that there is a quick solution to end this humiliation. It taunts me, wants me to shift into my birth form and sink my teeth into her soft flesh. I shake my head, chasing the intrusive thoughts away. What good would it bring, to kill her? Despite her harsh lessons, she's probably still kinder than any of the other elves in Eloisia. And if I kill her, they're just going to execute me, or worse, torture me for the rest of my miserable life.
There is nothing I can do but obey. I can feel tears of anger sting in my eyes but I bow my head obediently. "It is clear."
Without a word in response, she returns to her food and finishes her breakfast. Luuvia only looks up, once she has cleared her plate. She eyes me expectantly and I know that there's something else I'm supposed to do now but I can't figure out what it is.
"The chair," she says plainly, and I understand immediately, jumping to pull out her chair, so she can easily stand up.
The princess nods and hesitates for a moment, as though mulling over something in her head. Then, as though the cold is melting away, she nods towards the remaining food. "You can go ahead. Sit and eat. I know you have not been granted food yet."
I only register then, that my stomach has been growling for quite a while and it was probably very audible too. For a few heartbeats, I suspect that it's a trap, a setup for another painful lesson. But there's no spark along my spine, no agony seeping into my body. Instead, I can feel Luuvia's heavy gaze resting on me, as I sit down. I don't have the same kind of manners, don't know what to do with any of the utensils. But it doesn't seem to matter. After all, there's not a chance in hell that I'll get to eat at the same table as any of the other elves.
When the princess doesn't give me any other orders, I dig in, filling my stomach with the most divine food I have ever tasted. The bread is light and fluffy, the meat rich and tender. Honey and sweetened fruits sit atop small pastries and there are so many things I can't identify. I try everything, almost moaning with pleasure at the sensations.
Never before have I encountered so many different flavors and I find myself wishing I had a second stomach, so I could eat even more. There is still plenty left, once I have finished and I wonder what will happen to it.
As though she read my thoughts, Luuvia explains: "The food will be sent back to the kitchen and from there distributed amongst the servants. It will not come to waste. However, I trust you will not mention to anyone that I allow you to eat at my table."
I can't understand her. She fluctuates between a gentle kindness that touches my very heart and a demeanor that is cold as ice. It leaves me unable to tell which is the truth of her character. Either way, I find myself swallowing my hurt pride for a moment and bow my head. "Thank you," I murmur, my voice a scratchy rasp. I guess it's true what they say, feed a beast and it becomes complacent. Even the mist in my head has lain its head to rest for the moment.
I hurry to leave the chair and push it back underneath the table. When I turn around, I see that Luuvia has used this time to change. Where before she was wearing her silky smooth sleepwear with an elaborate night robe wrapped around her slender form, she is now dressed in what look to be more formal clothes. A long dress flows from her shoulders, accentuating her figure in all the right ways. The fabric is silver and seems to be in constant motion. It reminds me of a river with churning waves.
"Let's go," she orders, without a second glance at me or the remainders of our breakfast. "I have plenty of things to do. We will also have to get you more… fitting clothes for this evening's occasion. No one will believe you to be my personal wolf if you walk around in these rags." Her eyes seem to pierce through the very layer of my clothing, and I'm reminded of the moment when I had to stand naked in front of everyone present at the inspection. Shame burnt hot on my cheeks.
I hope she won't feel the need to examine me as well. I don't know why, but something feels very inappropriate about the idea of her seeing me naked. Even though, to her, I'm surely just another object to use as she pleases.
When she leaves the hut, I follow her obediently, staying a few steps behind her at first. We run into a group of other servants, all wolves, that immediately bow deeply at the sight of the princess. One of them hands her a colourful parasol and to my surprise, she thanks the servant gently. I haven't seen anyone else thank their servants before.
The wolf bows again. "It's an honor, your highness. Please keep your skin shielded, the sun is strong today."
The princess snaps her fingers, and gestures for me to step closer. "You know what to do with this?" She asks me, as the pack of servants moves on, probably to clean her hut and take care of the leftover food.
I remember the wolf I saw at the plaza the day before, the way he followed his mistress and held her parasol. It can't be too hard, right? I struggle to open the thing, unfamiliar with the device but I catch up quickly. I'm pretty smart after all, at least my mother always told me so.
I carefully open the parasol and hold it over her head.
Luuvia grabs my wrist, her fingers betraying an impressive strength that I didn't expect from her. "Hold it like this," she corrects me, moving my arm closer to her, so that she is covered and none of the shadow fell upon me.
The touch sends a spark of electricity through my body, the skin tingling, where she touches me. What is the meaning of this? I wonder why this feels so pleasant and yet not wrong at all.
As quickly as she reached for me, she pulls her hand away. Clearly, she's satisfied with the position of my arm. It's not very comfortable, I have to stretch myself, angling my hand in an uncomfortable way, to give her the most shade possible.
At least this time, she didn't feel the need to use the collar.
She leads me back through the palace, along the archways one can see the whole city from. With the sun rising above the tall buildings, shining its golden light upon the roofs and statues, it's a breathtaking sight. I slow my steps for just a moment, overwhelmed by the beauty of this place that is a completely different world than the one I grew up in.
Luuvia turns her head and regards me, her brows furrowing ever so slightly. "What are you doing?"
I glance at her and realize that she's stepped out of the shadow of the parasol. Or rather, I failed to follow her pace. Swallowing thickly, I bite back the urge to snap at her and instead just bow my head and hurry to catch up with her. "I was distracted. Forgive me."
She nods, as though satisfied by the way that I apologized immediately, and I feel the shame burn on my cheeks. Every fiber of my body hates this, resists against being kept as an obedient lap dog.
A part of me really knows what she thinks of me, what her real objective is with all of this. But there is no way for me to read her mind and there is truly no merit to wondering about it at this point in time.
Maybe one day I will find out just where she stands. Surely, her loyalty will always lie with her people rather than her ideals and her beliefs.
Pushing the thoughts from my mind, I suppress the growl vibrating in my throat and follow Luuvia. She walks with her head held high, her steps graceful and measured, feet featherlight on the marble floors. The dress flows around her form beautifully and I can't help the tingle of desire that sneaks into my stomach at the sight.
There is something strangely satisfying in being able to ogle her while she walks. There is one thing she or her people can never take from me: My thoughts. In my mind I am free. I can think about what I want, can imagine her however I so please and it feels a little like power in a desperate way.
I wonder if the way I'm happy to at least have my thoughts, shows how much these people have gotten to me. No. I am still me, I am still the same wolf at heart and one day, I will ruin all of them. The mist whispers in my ear, paints images of the Eloisia burning to the ground and how beautiful the Government will look alight with flames.
I bite my tongue to try and reign in the seductive thoughts, but the coppery taste of my own blood is almost too sweet in my mouth. A part of me craves it, longs for carnage and destruction and there is nothing it wants more than to see the elves meet their doom at my hands.
Luuvia heads for the throne room first, bowing in front of her parents respectfully. "Father, mother. It is a good morning for Eloisia. I hope you found restful sleep last night." Her words are formal but they are still full of emotion. The smile that spreads over her mother's lips is equally genuine, as the queen waves her closer.
A kiss is pressed to the princess' forehead in a gesture that looks at the same time ritualistic and loving. It is as though they have to express themselves along fixed rules. The sight reminds me of my own mother, of her kindness and warmth. She never would give in to rules like this that prevented her from making sure I know how much she loves me. For a moment, I envision her as a queen, her sorrow white hair crowned with gold and her face full of kindness and benevolence. The thought draws a quiet sigh from my lips that no one but the other wolves in the corner can hear. I hope my mother is doing well.
Once she is done talking to her parents, Luuvia waves for me to join her and I rush to her side. From the corner of my eye, I can see a satisfied expression on the king's face. He seems happy with the way Luuvia is training me to be a good slave and the idea tastes bitter on my tongue.
I wonder if the king sees us wolves as anything more than objects, things to be taken and given away, sent to fight for the ones who took their freedom.