We left our room and made our way to the commander's. It was a much longer journey than it should have been. My head ached with extreme intensity. I dragged my seemingly lead-heavy legs in front of each other. My stomach twisted and squeezed; I would have certainly emptied its contents if anything was in it. My vision was blurry and turning; I had to balance myself by sticking close to the walls.
Looking in front of me, my mother had it far worse. Her strides were more staggering than walking. Her legs trembled with such intensity that I feared they would buckle underneath her. It was hard on her, I knew, even more than I thought at the time.
She had entered my mind without the proper abilities one needed for such an undertaking. She crafted a mask for me, something even the best master crafters had very low chances of pulling off, not only that, but she had done it for someone else—me. She battled a being of immense power in a tug of war and won, granted it had mostly let her, but regardless.
That she was still awake, not to speak of walking, was in and of itself another immense feat. I expected her to fall at any moment, but the moment never came. We made it to the commander's room eventually.
None of the guards that were usually at the door were present, but we went into the room anyway. I saw her scan the room, her gaze covering it multiple times in the span of seconds. The commander was absent, so she pointed to a chair behind a desk. I needed no verbal directive to understand what she meant by that. I made my way to the chair and slumped into it.
Fatigue came rushing in an instant. I lost control of my body; it was as if it waited for me to sit before doing so. I doubted I could have moved again if there was a need for it.
My mother sat on the bed. She could have lain down but she didn't. She knew sleep would take her quickly if she did so. So instead, she sat and she waited. I, on the other hand, dozed off.
The sound that doors with poorly oiled hinges made when opened woke me up. Judging by my mother's startled reaction, I suspected that she must have fallen asleep too.
The commander stood at the edge of the door. His gaze fell on me first; I would have recoiled if my body responded to me. He had an icy, dark stare and a frown that made me uncomfortable.
Then his gaze fell to my mother. As he scanned her appearance, the frown on his face gave way to concern. "Helena!" he exclaimed as he moved swiftly to her side. He tried to touch her, but she waved him off.
"I don't need your concern, Khaller," she said hoarsely.
The commander, named Khaller apparently, seemed to deflate at this.
My mother broke the awkward silence. "Where were you?"
Khaller regained his composure and shrugged. "Above deck. It's been an odd day, I'll tell you that. First, the unnatural storm that came out of nowhere and disappeared in the same way. Then we get attacked by pirates this close to shore, which is highly unusual. I'll have to make a report about that as soon as we get to the capital."
He sighed. "Anyway, we dispatched them swiftly, but I lost a few men. To the storm more than anything else. I'll have to hire sellswords when we land to use as muscle. What a headache."
"You said we're close to shore?" My mother asked, that seemed to be the only thing she heard from his rambling.
Khaller frowned. "Did you even hear anything I just said? Sure, our tryst has been simply transactional, but would it kill you to be a conversationalist? You don't speak unless necessary or spoken to, and even when you do, there are no wasted words. For all the gods' sake, Helena, it's like speaking to one of Yukihiro's automatons. I do not treat you like the others. You are not locked in a prison. There is no chain around your neck and hands. You walk around as you wish, you eat as you want. I've made you my mark, and by extension, your son. The least you can do is indulge me in a simple discussion."
I saw my mother's back stiffen, then relax. She clearly had enough of his shit, but one must tread carefully when dealing with men, especially powerful men.
"Khaller, you would forgive me for rarely ever being in the mood for a discuss or to exchange banter. You came with soldiers from a foreign land and laid waste to my home. My family, my people, either dead or enslaved now, all because your king willed it so. Now I'm on a ship far away from home with my son, heading to the lands of my conquerors to be used as a slave till the day I die. For some convenience, I offered myself to you, and you took me and had me in all the many known ways. I have lost my home, my family save for my son, and my dignity as a woman. So, tell me, Commander Khaller..."
She held his gaze. "If it were you, would you have a lot to say? To anyone? Especially your captors?"
Khaller averted his gaze. "I suppose not."
An awkward silence stretched until my mother broke it.
"Shore, you said. We're close?"
Khaller sighed yet again. "Aye. We'll be on land in hours. A day at most. Won't be long now."
My mother nodded. "We don't have long then. It's time for you to fulfill your second part of the bargain."
Khaller frowned. "Was it some sort of magic then?"
My mother looked confused. "What?"
"You got me to agree to grant you three blank requests, all in exchange for your body. Don't get me wrong, you're stunningly gorgeous, but..."
"But what?" My mother cut him off. "Are you saying I wasn't worth it?"
Khaller paled. "N...No, that wasn't what I meant."
"Aren't I the best woman you've ever had?"
"By far," he blurted out.
"Good."
Khaller hesitated, then asked, "Was I? The best you've had?"
My mother went silent; I could almost hear the inner gears of her mind working.
After what seemed like an eternity for Khaller, she answered, "Yes."
The fool ate it up, hook, line, and sinker. Even I, as a child of six, seven perhaps—I never did find out my name day—could tell that her answer was obviously a lie.
But Khaller was so far beyond reason that he couldn't see the truth if it hit him in the face. His face radiated happiness, with a poorly concealed foolish smile across his features. His shoulders were held high. The man was happy.
It was then I truly understood the lessons my mother had imparted upon me. She gave him her body, and in exchange, she had claimed his soul. This man, this force of nature, a commander of an army, was her puppet. He was basically eating out of the palm of her hands.
I understood why she had to say yes to his question. This version of the man she would soon request a great deal from was far better than the broody and dejected alternative, far less dangerous and more prone to oblige her requests, however absurd they might be.
"Khaller," she spoke to focus his attention.
The beaming man answered, "Yes, Helena."
Convinced that she had his attention, she continued, "Time is of the essence to me. And we don't have a lot of it. My request?"
"Anything," the still beaming idiot responded.
"I want you to tell me about your kingdom."
This seemed to steady him a little.
"Alright. Give me a moment."
He left the room. As soon as he did, my mother turned to me, "You saw?"
She didn't need to say any more for me to understand what she was asking. I nodded.
"Good. This next part too, listen."
"Yes, mother," I replied.
The commander returned a short while later. He held a tankard in hand, which I suspected was filled with ale.
My mother quirked an eyebrow at him.
"What?" he grinned. "I suspect I will be talking a lot. It is not my best quality. The ale will help."
Then he sat down, downed a large amount of the ale, probably half the tankard.
Belched, before speaking again.
"What do you want to know?"