Ellis continued to feed me that way, fingers connecting with my lips and hot food pushing onto my tongue. Eventually, I'd gotten so distracted that I hadn't realized he'd lowered my veil to feed me properly.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to take care of him. Not the other way around. I peeled open my eyes, and Ellis' mouth stretched into a tender smile, like taking care of me was something he enjoyed.
But I knew that much wasn't true. I understood my place. I wasn't truly a friend or someone significant to him. Ellis took care of me so I could remain useful. The same way you'd sharpen and polish a sword.
You didn't plant apple trees for the joy of it. No, you planted something to cultivate so one day, after it had become bountiful and reliable enough, you could take until nothing remained on its branches, and it eventually withered away, forgotten and mistreated.
