I grow a little uncomfortable. Please dont sound so sincere, I request it quietly, feeling his words deeper than I should and regretting it.

He seems a little confused. How would you rather me sound?

I squeeze my hands together. Just not like that.

He seems to take my seriously and I am glad that he does. I meant it. Alright.

I do not look at him. It was still gentle.

When I dont respond, he speaks again, more firmly. Is there anything else?

I curl my fingers together and squeeze harder. Yes, it comes out softer than before and I blush to think he might not even hear it. By the way that he stays quiet though, I suppose he has. Donttouch me, it is smaller than intended and I can feel his confusion already mixing with my desperation in the air.

What is your meaning? It is earnest and not at all demanding, but no longer too soft.

My need to speak again makes me feel jitters. I pinch my nails into my palm. I wantboundaries.

He sounds concerned now, but I can hear he is trying to keep up with me. I cant understand exactlywhat sort of boundaries?

I feel my pulse dashing. Justdont touch me the way you didyesterday I am digging holes in my skin now with nerves.

Even though I cant meet his gaze I feel him soften. No, it is soft again. This time I welcome it. I wouldnt haveI didnt mean to hurt you.

It is sorry. I almost forgive him.

I wont. It is a promise, one that I accept and halfheartedly allow forgiveness for.

I keep looking down as I keep my hands clasped together.

More? It is gentle.

I swallow hard and feel a little relieved at his acceptance to my wishes. I think a moment. What will happen to my family?

Now that I think of it, I had only assumed they would be killed. Since I am not in the middle of the spectacle however, I am not so sure of the assumption anymore.

I look up here, the topic not being so personal, yet more personal to me on a different level. Seeing the pity on his face however, I wish I hadnt looked.

Icant precisely tell you.

For some reason, I believe him. How would he know after all?

If you wantI could see to it that I am informed of theirsituation.

I look up to his gentle suggestion. I look into his eyes and for a moment I linger here, forgetful of the fear I had felt. I feel he knows what it is like to lose loved ones. I know not why, but somehow his sensitive expression displays this.

I nod and I can see he takes it down somewhere in his list of to-dos to keep his promise. Wanting to let it all out here though, I continue. You dont thinkdont know that they werent I hesitate. Hurt?

He watches me with the same soft look casted across his features, only now, that glass surface of calm has sheltered his possible emotion. I cannot rightly say.

Though it hurts, I respect him for it. As a matter of a fact, I appreciate his honest answers, however much it shakes me.

Are you alright?

For a moment, I do not process what he said. When I do, it takes me even longer to think of how to connect to my emotions.

No, it is all I can think of, but I at least say it lightly as to not worry him. I dont know why I consider it (his worry) but I do.

Will you eat?

It is soft once more, but not so soft that I cant think of what to do with myself. I glance at the food, but seeing it makes me sick. I shake my head a little and he now seems to accept my refusal.

He reaches out and slowly takes my bowl from before me. I look up and watch as he also takes my folded and wrapped napkin and unrolls the fork from within it. He dips it into the still warm and steamy porridge. With a pause, he stands up and removes the bowl from the table. I hear him set it near the stove which is behind me. This time as he draws near, I do not feel quite so jumpy in my seat.

When he sits again it is, I notice, with more grace and ease. May I know your name now?

I look at him pleadingly.

He seems to understand. Tell me when you are ready then.

I watch him a moment unsure of how he could be so kind when his people are acting from the very opposite quality. I look down and refuse to stare.

You have lived your whole life here then?

I look up at him again, this time with disbelief.

He seems to remember. Oh, rightwhen you are ready, he lifts his hand and waves aside his question for me without further inquiry.

I look down again and fiddle with my dress where it has lost some thread from my struggle yesterday. I stop and feeling watched look up again. He watches me calmly, a keen sense of care in his face. He looks away and I do so as well, my heart hammering. I remember his words precisely; You make the rules.

I am in control.

Who are you anyways? It is small again.

He looks up and that faint smile slowly lights its way across the storming ocean of his eyes. I thought who I was mattered little to you if your brain has me programmed as enemy.

I blush out of embarrassment and a little irritation for being pointed at for my callousness. This was not true at allat least not entirely. Noyour name is your name, but you can be whoever you prove to be and what you are capable of.

He smiles faintly. You are very hard DutchlingI am glad I am not your courtier.

At that last part, for some horrible reason my insides go tragic. I hate it, but they do, and it ruins my appetite further.

Ms. Thimlet, I correct softly, blushing at the quake in my voice.

He watches me. Miss Thimlet, he says it back to me sincerely.

I fiddle again.

Not otherwise?

I look up at him. No.

He unleashes a faint smile.

I do not smile back. How come you do not know my family name if you are to take care of me?

He maintains my gaze. Ive had to memorize important thingswhat the King wants me to know. We are like his little warriors doing what he wants us to do and knowing the truth as what he teaches it is to us. My second in command is in the position I will fall in if he dies, which is the Commanderor we call him GeneralI suppose. It was based off of my communication and planning skills. He knew more than I didabout you that is. I am still his lesser. If you saw howhe came before anyone else.

I look at him uncertainly. It was planned?

Noit was spoken of. It was one of the many ways we could hold more against the citybut we didnt know where you were until at most a week ago. We were almost about to let it go, but once we had gone there, there was no going back for Gage, our second in command. He is the one directing in the city; Alba is the one on the out. He took it upon himself to start the revelry. He has been pining for a drunken night and women since I first knew him. It was his favorite pastime in Spain. On duty though, he couldnt afford to do such things.

I listen quietly, and the more I think of how Gage touched me, the more I wish he hadnt.

Im sorryI shouldnt have burdened you with that, his voice is once more gentle, and I realize that while speaking of his Commander, his voice had turned otherwise.

I look up and reach to take the spoon from the table, toying with it in my lap. How do you suppose he will not come here?

He shook his head. No, he directs me through my mistake of interpretation. He cannot. If it is not implied for him to do so by the King, which I dont understand why it would be, then he will not. His reputation is far more valuable than his otherengagements in life.

I set the spoon in my lap and look up. He saw you take meif he knows I am staying He shakes his head. He will not dare to unless ordered.

I swallow. Could there be a possibility of him comingif you are his soldier-man then He shakes his head. No. I may be that by rank, but not by heart.

I am interested. Why not?

His face darkens. May I direct this conversation elsewhere?

I look at him. Must you?

He gives me a grave look and I rethink my action.

Where is your family? I decide.

He looks away and I realize this was not a good subject either.

Im sorry He looks up and that same understanding link crosses between us. For some reason, this hints to me that I should know why he does not want to speak of his Commander or family.

You ask the questions He shakes his head assuredly. No, it is alright, just let me think of how to put thisI he sighs out with a closed mouth as though frustrated with himself.

I wait and feel resentful towards my patients for him already.

I lost my way one night on the way to the doctorsmy sister had told me she had not felt well earlierbut when we got home from atripshe started to vomit.

I feel my stomach churn and twist out of pain from anothers suffering.

I did not know what to doso I asked my neighbors to watch over her while I went to get helpall was going as planned until he sighs. I got lostit took some time before I actually reached the doctors househe left immediately, but the trip to his home alone had been 14 miles and my horse needed restso I had to stay back and wait.

I feel pity reach its brim as he looks down at the tables smooth surface.

I left as soon as I couldbut when I arrived home the next morningthe doctor said hed found the neighbors and He takes in a deep breath, and then lets it all out. He found the neighbors not near Carmela and she wasgone.

I understand. Is that why you hate himhe was the neighbor?

He looks up, his eyes full of loss. Noit was for walking in on us with his army and not showing any mercy on those who would not joinby that time I had been hard and unsettledand when they barged inI had no reason or holdbacks. I could only think of my loss and how much I wanted to do something tostop it. Carmela not being there to be taken care ofI went.

I look at him pitifully. Im sorry I look him deep in the eyes and oddly enough venture further, he watches me somewhat desolately. I look back down at my hands. I begin to feel the spoon again, tracing down the gracefully carved metal work a little more nervously.

Dont be. You had nothing to do with the matter until now.

I look up and find his eyes still on me. I look away as my stomach starts to churn and quench. He wont come here?

His eyes are softened by this question and I cannot help but wonder if I look anything like his sister. No, he responds.

I brush the loose and tangled hairs a little away and his lips crack a tiny almost unnoticeable smile. It almost half-secondly disappears.

I ignore it as well as the fluttering in my chest. Do you happen to have a washbasin?

He raises his brows in surprise. Had you?

I know that most riches here in Leyden are not permitted for the poorer, but vader had been conservatively wealthy, and after yesterday I feel that a bath might help me cleanse my mental health as well as my physical health.

My vader owned one I look down realizing that I was telling some of my history to someone I barely know, but thinking of his telling of his sister, find that it must be not too robust to speak of my lifes few joys.

He leans his head to his hand and runs his fingers through his hair. Hmm He sighs out a response.

I wish to be away from his sorrow and my own, to cleanse it from my skin at least, if not my brain. A bath should be able to do that.

Have you one? It is small.

He laughs lightly into his hand and unburies his face to look at me. For one so used to living in such states, you ask much of one who is unused to such.

I feel my face heat and wish I was not so soft. You have not one?

He sighs. Its in my roomit has not been filled today, but it can be.

I swallow. I am grateful.

His face reflects the expression of one not so judgmental, but still curious. We are in need of better acquaintancebut for now, I would like to let you use some of my utilities.

He smiles kindly and I force my eyes away, shying and dropping my gaze. It shifts something inside me, his smile, whether for good or bad I dont know. Thankfully, I dont have time to spend on it. Come.

Chapter 5.