For the next hours I follow Luuvia wherever she goes, wait behind her while she talks to other officials in fancy robes and gowns. Tirelessly, she follows an inner map from one place to another and I try to burn the path into my mind because the city is all too large and confusing to me.
I don't utter a single word for the remainder of the morning and the princess doesn't spare me a single glance. Only, once the sun is already standing high above the city, does she turn to me. "We have one more stop before we shall return to the palace for lunch."
I'm not sure whether this information is meant to reassure me that I won't have to suffer under the hot sun much longer, while she is safely shaded by the parasol or if she simply informed me so I would know the time when she takes her lunch.
She doesn't expect an answer and I don't give her one. Instead, she turns to lead me into one of the busier quarters of the inner city. The place is crowded with elves of all kind and feather, some with their own wolves in tow, some on their own. I see many of my kind, old and young, some muscular and clearly trained to protect their owners while others were dressed in fine robes to look beautiful, rather than menacing.
None of the other wolves look at me. Their gazes are focused on their owners and their tasks at hand, as though they don't even register that there are others of their kind. As though they know nothing else other than their servitude. They all seem to have grown complacent with their positions.
The sight sends a chill down my spine. Is that really what my future will bring? Is my fate to be numb and dull, happy just to be fed and have a warm place to sleep?
The princess rounds a corner and enters a large building. Within a moment I realize that it is a tailor's shop. I've never seen anyone make clothes like this and the sheer number of different fabrics, silk, satin and linen alike, in every fathomable color, makes my eyes widen.
All my clothes were sewn by my mother, put together from rags and garments handed down from my brother. Being taken by the soldiers left me with only the very clothes on my body and then they took those from me too, when I first entered the palace.
Luuvia talks to the tall elven woman with the rolled-up sleeves and both of them glanced at me. The woman - who is clearly the tailor - looks older than the princess, though I can't be certain. I was mistaken in Luuvia's case as well, after all. She is dressed in blue robes that leave her enough room to move and yet look rather elegant. The embroidery along her legs is more intricate than any I've seen before.
"He needs garments. This evening he will be attending a formal dinner at the palace. He will also need casual clothing and robes suitable for the royal court."
The tailor nods. "Of course, your highness. I can sew him clothes for the evening and finish the rest of the required garments within the next few days."
The princess seems satisfied, a gentle smile on her face. "That will do wonderfully." She hands over a small fabric pouch, its contents clinking together. Coin, I think to myself. I have never seen that much money in one place, even if it is only coppers and silvers. I don't want to think about how long my mother would have to work in the fields to be able to afford even one of the garments she is purchasing for me.
"Come here." The tailor orders sharply and I hurry to obey, feeling Luuvia's watchful gaze linger on my form.
She leads me into the back part of the room and pulls a curtain that separates it from the open part, clearly to grant us some privacy. "Undress," the order surprises me and I hesitate. I'm glad that Luuvia is waiting on the other side of the curtain but the idea of undressing in front of this stranger makes me uncomfortable.
The tailor clicks her tongue, impatiently. "Now." The comment makes me grit my teeth, but I know that I can't object or else it will reflect badly upon Luuvia. And that, in turn, will force her to punish me.
I lower my head and begin undressing, feeling shame settle low in my stomach. Within a moment I'm bare and the tailor looks me up and down, not a hint of embarrassment at the sight. I've never been eyed by a female like this, and the scrutiny makes a dark blush spread over my face.
"Lift your head," the tailor orders, her voice cool and professional. I do as I am told and stand up straight, my muscles rigid, as she steps closer. Long, cool fingers brush along my arms and shoulder blades, holding up a golden string adorned with dozens of little knots. It takes me a moment to realize that she's measuring me, every now and then turning around to scribble notes onto a piece of parchment.
She moves to my backside, and I flinch, when her fingers trail from my butt down my legs. The touch is too intimate, something I have never experienced before. I swallow thickly, squeezing my eyes shut to try and ignore the torment.
I almost sigh in relief when she drops the string and writes down some more notes. Then, without another word to me, she slips through the curtain and leaves me alone. Clearly, she doesn't think I'm worth talking to.
"I have taken his measurements, your highness. I will begin work on the garments immediately. If you would please come this way, you can choose which colors and materials you would like me to use. He has a good build for a wolf. If you wish, I can make sure the clothes accentuate his figure." I can hear the tailor point out different fabrics and designs to the princess and I hurry to redress myself so I can join them.
Luuvia stands leaned over a broad table, running her fingers along a linen shirt. "There is no need to accentuate his physique. I have not chosen him for his appearance."
Somehow the words feel like a stab to my chest. Then, I shake my head at myself. Of course, the princess does not find my looks as pleasing as I find hers. She is an ethereal beauty, who is betrothed to a tall general, who is certainly considered exceedingly handsome. And I'm nothing but a slave, not one of her kind and certainly not her equal.
And yet, the thought makes me feel strangely disappointed.
Luuvia is quiet on her way back to the palace and I make sure to keep perfect pace with her, shielding her from the merciless sun. I don't understand why she wants to keep her pale complexion but maybe her kind doesn't tan in the sun to begin with. Maybe it poses a serious threat to her. The thought makes me focus more closely on the task at hand.
Once we reach the palace, she leads me back to her hut and again I find myself admiring the beauty of the gardens and the small forest growing about her chosen home. It suits her, I think, to be surrounded by nature. The wild can be cruel and kind, beautiful and terrifying and I think that Luuvia is the same in her own way.
The table is already covered in food again, bowls and plates filled with steaming dishes the likes of which I have never seen before. The different smells alone make my mouth water and my stomach growl.
Obediently, I hurry to pull out her chair and fill her glass for her, feeling a sting in my chest at how easily I can fall into this routine.
The princess nods, seemingly satisfied with my behavior. I'm about to step back and stand behind her chair, as she has instructed me earlier, but she waves a hand. "Sit," she commands, gesturing towards the second chair. I hesitate for a moment, wondering if it is a test of some sort but she doesn't say anything else.
Sitting down, I see her glance up, her golden eyes sparkling with some emotion I can't place. "You may eat. Just don't forget that you cannot act like this anywhere else."
I don't even care that this makes her out to be a merciful queen to a humble beggar. I don't care if it just enforces her superiority and the power, she has over me. I dig in, as though I'm starving, devouring the food. The pleasure that courses through my body at the different flavors and textures almost makes me moan. There are so many different things to try, that I don't even realize, Luuvia has stopped eating and is watching me instead.
Only, when my initial hunger is satisfied and I am nibbling on a piece of meat, do I look up to find her gaze lingering on me.
"You have never eaten like this before?" She pronounces it like a question but it's clear that she knows the answer already.
I shake my head. "No. Where I am from, we are lucky to have the coin for meat once a month. Normally we eat what's left over from the harvest and not good enough to ship to the Gov- to Eloisa. My mother knows how to work magic with simple ingredients, but she knows not how to make all these things."
Luuvia looks at me for a little moment longer. "Did you have to starve often?"
I swallow another bite and nod. "My mother always gave me what we had, often starving herself for days so her pup could live. But even then, we often had nothing left. Especially after my father and brother-" I don't want to finish the sentence; the memory is too painful. It was a horrible time, right after their death. Mother worked from the first light of dawn to dusk under the overseers' whips to bring back enough scraps to feed me and survive herself.
The thought makes me clench my teeth and I lean back in my chair. A part of me feels terrible, thinking that I am eating my fill of these delicacies, while my mother is suffering in her little cabin with the leaky roof and the empty breadbasket.
"I understand. It isn't fair that we have plenty here, while your people have nothing." Luuvia's words dug themselves into my heart like a spear tip, attempting to break through the resentment I am trying to build against her.
"It's not," I spit out, my voice a throaty growl. "None of this is fair."
She nods but doesn't say anything else. Realizing that she wants to stand up, I jump to my feet to pull out her chair. She doesn't thank me, instead she walks over to the beautifully crafted desk underneath one of the windows.
Her gentle fingers reach for one of the large, leather-bound books. "I will study now. You are free to do as you wish, as long as you do not leave my garden."
With that, she dismisses me, and I stand idly in the middle of the room for a moment. Finally, I step outside and feel the warm beams of the sun on my face. For a moment I consider exploring the surroundings, then I realize that I'm still exhausted from the agonizing march the day before. With a yawn, I shift into my birth form and curl up next to the steps that lead up to the hut. The sun warms my fur, and the grass and moss are soft underneath me. It feels comfortable, peaceful almost. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, if I should listen to the voice of the mist in my head or the princess.