When Lem awoke, his neck didn't feel as stiff as it had before he'd fallen asleep. More than that, though, his whole body felt at ease, as if his muscles hadn't spent the entire time he'd been asleep locked in a tense rigor, waiting to be woken at any moment. He almost never slept deeply enough or long enough to reach a state of relaxation, and as such, the realization that sleep could actually feel refreshing was something of a novel concept. As he shifted his limbs against the soft cushions of the couch, Lem noted with a measure of amusement that he also didn't feel as though any fangs had been buried in his neck while he slept - a welcome if unexpected surprise!
Shifting slightly, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling of Lady Nassau's bedchamber. He wondered how long he'd slept for, and how much trouble he'd be in when knowledge Dav found out Lem had been sleeping in Lady Nassau's room instead of following her around trying to keep her safe. He probably shouldn't have slept the first time, letting her wander the manor all on her own. But to have slept in her room while she was somewhere else would probably be seen as even more negligent than sleeping in a hallway. That was assuming anyone knew or cared about where he was. Given how chaotic things seemed, Lem was counting on no one bothering to follow him around or check on him too closely. Besides, even if he did get in trouble with one of the knowledge thralls who ran the household, he was banking on the fact that there were now so few members of staff remaining in the household that anything less than a blatant murder attempt would be more likely swept under the rug.
"Weapon Lem?"
He almost jumped out of his skin at the words, spoken softly from a dark corner of the room. Sitting up and turning in the direction of the voice, Lem's eyes quickly found the desk in the back of the room where Lady Nassau sat. She was perched daintily on a soft-looking chair, an open book to the left of her elbow, a sheet of paper with tiny written notes under her right hand. She was holding a fountain pen in her right hand, and was eyeing him with a lone raised eyebrow.
Lem felt momentarily frustrated at the sight of her. Hadn't she promised to leave him alone? Was her word so meaningless? His tongue was itching to remind her of what she'd said to him before he slept, but his mind knew how useless such a gesture would be. What was the point in reminding her of her careless words? Any promise made to a thrall was worthless to a member of the Blood. She wouldn't understand why he was so upset. He wasn't even sure he understood it himself. After all, he barely knew her. What had given him the foolish idea that she would actually keep her word to a pathetic human thrall, anyway?
Swallowing back words of frustration, Lem sighed heavily and fumbled along the floor beside the couch, eventually finding his new boots. He pulled them back on before standing and grabbing his dagger belt, buckling it around his waist before turning to face the vampire seated in the corner. "Lady Nassau," Lem said, then paused awkwardly, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Did she expect him to thank her for the couch? He didn't want to thank her for anything, not after she'd broken her word. He'd been so relaxed mere moments ago, and now his shoulders and spine were tight with tension. "Um…"
"I apologize for disturbing you," said the Lady of the manor, her voice as calm and peaceful as it ever was. "I meant to stay out of my room until you awoke, but…" she shrugged one shoulder, and then said, "You slept for nearly twelve hours, and I had some business to attend to."
Lem blinked a few times, his mind unable to process what he was hearing. "...what?"
Lady Nassau frowned slightly. "You slept for twelve hours," she repeated.
"No," Lem said, almost urgently, "not that part. The first part."
Still frowning, Lady Nassau set her fountain pen down and turned to look at him more closely. "...I'm sorry for disturbing you?" she asked, sounding hesitant.
Yes, that, Lem thought bitterly. He stared back at her, knowing that there was an ugly look on his face but unable to wipe it away.
Lady Nassau's own expression was hardening as she gazed back at Lem. "Is there a problem, weapon Lem?"
Unable to restrain himself, Lem scoffed. "You apologize? You're sorry?" When did the Blood ever apologize for their many wrongdoings? When did they ever care enough to recognize a disservice done to their human underlings? But worse, he was frustrated because she was apologizing for the wrong thing! He didn't care about being disturbed. He cared that she'd lied to him, and that she saw nothing wrong with shrugging it off.
Lady Nassau's expression remained hard as she gazed back at him. Her voice grew brittle as she answered. "Yes, I do apologize, when occasion permits. Is that so hard to believe?"
Lem was unable to hold in the bitter laugh that escaped his lips. "Would you believe it, in my position?" he countered.
Opening her mouth, Lady Nassau appeared about to answer him, only to stop suddenly and close her mouth. Her blood-red eyes lingered on him for several seconds, calculating. Then, without another word, she turned back to her book, plucking the fountain pen from the desk and once more scribbling notes on the paper beneath her hand.
Lem waited for something terrible to happen, standing in front of the couch for another minute. Finally, he slowly lowered himself back onto the couch, sitting there, watching Lady Nassau work. He didn't know what to think or how to feel, his mind a bleary mess after a long sleep and the oddest conversation he'd ever had with a vampire, much less his master.
The longer he sat there, with nothing going wrong, the more urgently he wanted to leave and never face the Lady of the manor again. He didn't understand her, he couldn't predict anything she said or did, and he didn't know what made her behave the way she did. It made him nervous, not knowing what his limits were. It made him want to push back, to find how far he could go before she would strike him down and make him regret his insolence.
It was a stupid thing to think about, but Lem wasn't a knowledge thrall. He didn't think. He fought.
And now, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to pick a fight with his new master.