"That's a beautiful name," Nessa said."Thank you," I said, smiling back at her, meaning it. "It feels weird for me, being asked my name.""Why weird?" she asked, already reaching for another potato, not looking up from her work."People don't usually ask," I said, and left it there. She didn't push, just hummed something small in response, like she understood there was more to it than I had the energy to explain over a bucket of peels.We went back to our tasks, and by the time Madam Voss returned for inspection, the kitchen had settled into something closer to controlled rhythm knives against boards, pots knocking against stone, someone laughing quietly two tables over before catching themselves."Alright, take the meals to the dining hall," Madam Voss said, sweeping through like a small storm that everyone had learned to move around. Then, louder, sharper, in the tone that made every slave in the room straighten at once, "slave."We all looked up. There were at least a dozen of us
Última actualización : 2026-09-09
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