As I stepped into the trough, Aryana spoke.
"You are very beautiful, Benella, and when you fully realize that, I pity the men in your path."
The sincerity in her tone had me raising my eyes. She gave me a gentle smile then bent to pick up the rinse bucket.
"Ready?" she asked with the bucket poised over her head, her breasts lifted high, their rosy peaks taunting me with my own inadequacies.
I didn't think of myself as unattractive, just unendowed. Everyone else sported nice round breasts while mine seemed a bit smallish.
"Ready," I whispered.
The cool water rushed over my head, putting out a fire I hadn't noticed. I sighed in relief, and she laughed.
"I thought you looked too warm. Come, you still have time to relax while we oil your hair."
Nine
Long before the first client stepped through the door of the Whispering Sisters, I found myself walking toward the estate's gate. After leaving the sisters, I'd known I couldn't go home. My hair smelled too nice for Bryn not to notice and start asking questions that I didn't want to answer. Father didn't like me knowing where he worked; I could only imagine how he would feel if two of his daughters knew.
If not for my growling stomach and the lack of food and coin at home, I wouldn't have come. The beast hadn't expected me today, and I wasn't sure of my unplanned welcome.
Standing inside the gate, waiting for the gathering mist that heralded the beast, I reflected on the new friends I had made. They'd taught me so much in a short period of time. When I'd left, they'd invited me to return any day before ten for another visit. I knew I would return. Their veils begged to be questioned.
"You have returned," he said.
I smiled slightly at his puzzled tone.
"I hope you don't mind. Do you have work for me? I'm really hungry."
The barest scrape of his foot on the ground behind me warned me where he stood. I'd grown so used to his cloaked presence that I felt no fear, just uncertainty. Perhaps the relaxing morning had something to do with my mood as well.
His hand touched my hair, and I heard him inhale deeply.
"No cleaning the kitchen today." His voice clicked with agitation. "Do you read?"
The question surprised me.
"Yes."
"The pages often tear when I try to turn them. Today, you will read for me. Come."
He led the way to the estate, his outline always just on the edge of my vision. We entered through the kitchen door. The mist swallowed all of the light indoors.
"I cannot see," I said. Hearing my own whispering voice, I wondered if I should try speaking softly to the beast. Perhaps he might growl less.
"Take my tail," he said with an agitated growl.
Something thick and heavy whacked against my side. I reached out and curled a hand around his thick, furry tail. He waited a moment before moving, walking slowly so I could keep pace without tugging on his appendage. While we walked, I couldn't help but bring my other hand to his tail to touch the coarse fur. When he'd carried me, I'd been too hurt to notice his fur, and I couldn't recall much detail from when I'd slept on it.
I spread my fingers and delved into his fur, stroking it the wrong way so the hair tickled between my fingers. Changing directions, I smoothed it back down. He neither growled nor spoke, so I continued with my touch as we wound through black hallways until we entered a large muffled room. We walked several steps in, and then he stopped. Reluctantly, I released his tail. It felt like the first semi-friendly touch we'd shared where my role involved more than holding still.
"Light a candle and sit facing away from the door," he said with a deep growl. "I will return shortly."
He left, taking the mist with him. A sliver of light shone straight ahead, and I cautiously shuffled toward it. Heavy drapery met my touch, and I tentatively pushed it aside. The large, glass-paned window framed a beautiful view of a very overgrown yard.
My mouth dropped open as a tree-of sorts-scampered into view. Its white paper skin marked with black dots and raised lines reminded me of a birch's bark. The fingers on her hands and the toes on her feet sprouted with leaves. Where hair should have streamed down her back, a cascade of wisp thin branches, heavily adorned with bright green spring leaves, grew instead. Her form looked very human, including two lumps on her main trunk to indicate breasts. A tree nymph.
Enthralled, I watched her spin and look over her shoulder with a smile. Another nymph came into view, this one obviously male, based on the short thick branch that extended from the area just above where the main trunk split into something resembling human legs.
The male nymph caught up to the female and spun her to face him. She tilted her head back with a wide smile, her leaf hair catching the light prettily. He grasped her behind the knee with one hand and drew her leg up over his hip. Between them, I could see his jutting root. The leg he had lifted melted into his trunk, solidifying the two into one. Slowly, he flexed forward, and I watched the root disappear. The scene left me warm as if I still sat in the hot waters at the Whispering Sisters. The male withdrew and flexed forward again. Both seemed to be enjoying it very much, and I felt a twinge of shame for watching.
Prying my fingers one by one from the curtain, I was about to let it drop when a dark mist came rolling in from the left. The male's head shot up, turning unnaturally to look at the mist. When he saw it, he broke away from his partner and immediately solidified into a tree.
The female, however, did not solidify. Instead, with a small smile, she glanced at the mist, then bent forward. The position brought to memory-in vivid detail-how Ila had looked when she bent to pet the cat. The mist consumed the back half of the nymph, pouring over her like an angry wave. Bent forward as she was, I watched the nymph's leaf hair sway as something pushed against her again and again.
Carefully, I let the curtain fall, hoping it wouldn't draw the attention of any of the parties outside, and scrambled to find a candle and a book. I flopped onto a sofa, kicking my feet up in a relaxed pose, just as I heard the beast enter the room.
"What book did you choose?" he asked softly, with only a hint of a growl. His hand found my hair and gently tugged it out so he could stroke it. I could smell a hint of outdoors on him.
I couldn't find my voice to speak. Lifting the book, I showed him the cover. I stared at it, too. A book on farming. My already thumping heart beat harder. Would he know now that I had seen them?
"This will be an enlightening hour," he said, and I felt him settle on the floor by my head, his hands still running through my hair. He breathed in deeply again, and I knew he was smelling the oil Ila had rubbed into the strands.
"Proceed."
After clearing my throat, I began to speak softly about a farmer's woes and how to alleviate them.
* * * *
More than an hour passed before I set the book on my chest. What most would find boring had interested me to the point that I'd forgotten the time and the hands running through my hair. When I ceased reading, the beast halted as well.
"Why have you stopped?" he demanded in a growl.
"I haven't had anything to eat today and am thirsty," I said softly.
He grunted his objection, but I heard him stand.
"Can I hold your tail again?" I asked, thinking of the dark halls.
The mist in the room suddenly churned so darkly it extinguished the candle. I recalled the scene outside the window and regretted my request. I sat up in concern and tentatively reached out a hand. Almost immediately, I connected with fur, more than I could wrap a hand around. Unsure what else to do, I trailed my fingers along the fur until I understood I touched his hip. I carefully trailed my hand further back and clasped his tail.
Through it all, he held still and said nothing. I whispered a quick apology. He began walking, and this time, I didn't do more than hold his tail.
A few minutes later, we stepped into the kitchen.
"There is a tray on the block for you. Will you read more to me after you eat?" he asked impatiently.
"Yes," I whispered, trying to emulate the sisters to help calm him.
"Then, I will return shortly," he said, anger clipping his words.
"Wait," I called before the mist left. "I would rather eat in the library if you don't mind."
I'd noticed the number of books that lined the walls of the library when I'd raced to grab a book earlier. I wanted a chance to explore that space.
"Of course." The clicking quality was back in his voice.