Nine: Otreg

Zargis looked at me with a bewildered expression as Marythelia raced from Citron's home. I wasn't sure what was going on, and knew less about her mood than he did. So when he motioned me into a private corner, I had hoped he'd tell me. Instead, he said, "Go after her. Make sure she isn't harmed. Don't let her out of your sight."

"What's going on, Zargis?"

"I don't know. She's been like this all morning. She won't talk to me."

I gave a nod, then excused myself from the house. I glimpsed Thelia running into the forest and followed her, keeping a distance between us so she didn't sense me.

We came upon a little beach and she stood at the water's edge, staring off into the distance. She stood for a long time, then began to throw rocks with a furious growl, hurling them at the water in anger. When she turned to find another one, I saw tears on her cheeks and her eyes were glassy. Obviously, she was upset. I just didn't know why.

Carefully, I walked up to her and turned her around to me, gently wrestling the rock from her fingers and dropping it to the ground. Then, I pulled her close and held her as she shuddered. I didn't hear her cry, but I felt her tears wet my shirt.

"What is upsetting you, Beautiful?" I asked softly.

Her hands, which were flat against my chest before, now fisted. "Don't call me that!" she hissed. "Don't ever call me beautiful again! I'm a slave! You should be calling Unda beautiful, not me!"

I was slightly amused at the jealous tone, but didn't show it. "Unda is beautiful, but she doesn't have the kind of beauty you have, Thelia."

She snorted. "I'm sure she can eat without throwing up, right? She doesn't feel like she'll ruin anything just by sitting on it, does she? Does she need a dress to make her feel pretty?"

I was confused, but said, "No, she doesn't need or do any of that."

"Exactly!" Thelia growled and pushed away, walking some distance to a large boulder to sit down on. I walked over and stared at her. "Go away," she said, her anger used up.

"I didn't think you were a vane person," I say. "Why does beauty have to be so important?"

"A slave isn't beautiful," she breathed. "We don't have nice things. We aren't free to do or buy as we wish. We can't even hold down a healthy portion of food."

I sat beside her and stared at the water that was calm and mirrored the moon. "Did you go somewhere to eat in town?"

"No. We went to your place."

I raised my brows in surprise. "And I'm guessing he cooked?" She nodded. "And you liked it so much, you over did it and made yourself sick?" Another nod. I figured the rest out in my head and looked at her. "So, what in the world does Unda have to do with it?"

"She's beautiful!" Thelia said, with a wave of her hand. "She isn't a slave. Zaris could be swooning her with his food and she'd keep it down. He wouldn't need to worry about her throwing up because she's had all she's ever wanted her whole life. He should be in love with her, not playing around with me."

"You think he's playing around with you?" I ask dryly. She glanced up at me with a glare. I sigh. "Why I bother talking to people to make them feel better when it never works is beyond me." I stand and stretch, then turn to her. "Zaris isn't stupid. Neither are you. There are many kinds of beauty a guy could be looking for, and it just so happens that the kind he wants is what you have."

"What is that?"

"I'll let you figure that out on your own. And in the meantime, I'm going to buy a bottle of ale, some snacks, and find a blanket. When I return, I hope you have found the answer."

Leaving her to stare after me, I stride towards town and do exactly as I said.