Repentance sat back in the settee thinking. She'd had it in her mind that if the king believed Lord Carrull, she would have to go back to a life of slavery at the palace. But ... "So, if you aren't going to tell the king you know us, we can still go to Montphilo."
"I'm not going to stop you. If no one ever finds out that you've been here, I'll be happy."
"I can't go to Montphilo," Sober said. "I have a responsibility to my Mistress. She has been good to me and I'll not run off after all she's given me."
"All she's given?" Repentance was horrified. "She's a slaver."
Sober gave her a stern look. "She's risked much to save your family."
"And I'm grateful. But you don't owe her your life. She had no business owning you in the first place. She has no business telling you where you can and can't go."
Lord Carrull made a shushing noise. "Repentance, you still haven't learned, have you? Think first, child, and speak after that."
Sober gave him a dirty look. "What right do you overlords have to put us on the slave dock in the first place? Unless you've been abused by men you don't even know, kidnapped from your home, torn from your family, threatened, and beaten, maybe you ought to not be so quick to judge Repentance."
Lord Carrull started to answer, but stopped himself. "You're right, young man. Right to call me on it and right to stand up for your sweetheart."
Repentance gasped.
Lord Carrull smiled. "My apologies, Repentance. Forgive me for being harsh with you."
Sober turned to Repentance and said gently, "I do owe Mistress Merricc. She saved me when she bought me off the dock. I have to work to repay her the beads she spent on me."
"And now my family? You're working to pay her for them, too?"
His cheeks flushed. "I'm happy pay, Repentance."
"But we'll be in Montphilo and you won't be there with us."
He smiled. "Are you saying you'll miss me?"
"Of course she'll miss you," Lord Carrull said. "You're her hero." Hearing a noise, he turned toward the secret door. "Ah, Compassion, good. I'm guessing our guests would appreciate turns in the bathing rooms before bed."
Repentance nodded her agreement, and thanked Providence for the maid's timely interruption.
"The beds are made up," Compassion said. "And the hot water is ready in both bathing rooms if the young people are so inclined."
Repentance shot her a smile. "I most certainly am inclined. Thank you, Compassion."
The maid bowed her head slightly. "And the young man?"
"I can think of nothing I'd like better."
The maid nodded and backed away from the doorway.
Repentance followed, feeling a little dizzy. Her family was safe.
There was that to be thankful for.
And Lord Carrull would explain everything to the king. And she would join her family in Montphilo.
But Sober?
He wouldn't be there. He'd be working to pay her debt.
So there I stood on the riverbank, dizzy and confused. And what did I do? I climbed to the top of the falls and jumped in again. Love—I mean the button mate kind, not the sister kind—is dangerous and scary, but it made me feel, oh, so alive.
~Repentance Atwater, Mountain Journal
Chapter 32
Repentance woke with a jerk, thinking for a moment that she was back in her cell under the palace. But, no, she was in a warm, soft bed at Lord Carrull's house. Relaxing back into the pillows, she played back the events of the previous evening.
Had Tigen made it safely home? And Comfort! When would she get to see her sister?
She threw back her covers and took the night shade from the sunlamp on the bedside table. Laid over the foot of the bed was a dress. Deep blue, silky material. She took it into the bathing room with her, wondering how Compassion had found a dress to fit her. A lot of slaves traveled through this house. Maybe Lord Carrull kept a variety of clothes on hand for them.
Once dressed, she left her room, but she couldn't remember which door led to the great room she'd seen the night before. She crossed to the room opposite hers and knocked softly. Getting no answer, she cracked the door open. Sleeping quarters. Empty. The bed looked like it hadn't been slept in.
At the next door, when no one answered her knock, she again peeked in. The blankets on the bed were rumpled. The door to the bathing room stood ajar and the room was still steamy. She'd apparently barely missed Sober.
She was about to close the door when she saw the gray flannel button scarf in a rumpled pile on the desk. She tiptoed into the room and held the scarf to her cheek. It smelled of Sober. "Why do you keep this?" she whispered.
"I already answered that once."
She spun around, still holding the scarf, her cheeks burning.
"Didn't you believe me?" He leaned against the bathing room door, a brush in his hand. He wore loose flannel trousers—brown—with a tan shirt that looked creamy-white against his dark skin.
Repentance threw the scarf on the desk and backed toward the door. "I'm sorry. I was looking for the library."
He took a step toward her.
"I didn't know you were here. I'm sorry." She backed out the door and fled across the hall to her quarters.
A knock sounded on her door and Sober walked in without waiting for an answer.
"Will you please talk to me?" He sat on the bed next to her. "I really need
