(Un)bidden (Judgement of the Six #4)

I turned and left.

When I opened the door to my room, I sighed. The bed, marooned in the center of the room, called to me like the oasis it was. I sat on top the quilt, kicked off my shoes, and pulled the spare blanket over my shoulders as I lay down.

After so little sleep the night before, it didn’t take me long to drift off, away from the troubles of this place.



“Are you hungry?”

Mary’s voice penetrated the fog still clouding my mind, and I blinked awake.

“What?” It was less of a word and more of a yawn. I lifted myself up on an elbow and tried to focus on her.

Squatted down beside the bed, she grinned at me.

“You must have been very tired. You have sleep lines on your face.”

“It’s not easy to get a good night’s sleep here.” I sat up, scrubbed a hand over my face, and glanced at the window. Sunset painted the frame. Since there were no clocks, I didn’t ask what time it was. However, based on the sky, I guessed that I’d slept for several hours.

“Did I miss dinner?”

“No, I saved you some. Everyone’s outside again.”

“Did Winifred get anything to eat?” I asked as I threw back the blanket and stood with a stretch.

“She did. And she thanks you for your concern.” Mary moved with me as I went to put on my shoes.

“How did it go after I left?”

“The fighting quieted down once they knew you weren’t coming back out.”

“I meant with Gregory,” I said with a laugh. I didn’t care much about the rest although I was grateful they’d let me sleep.

Mary blushed a pretty shade of pink. “He seems sweet.”

“Oh? How so?” I asked as we left the room. Shadows obscured the corridor. I kept one hand on the wall and wished I’d grabbed Anton’s candle.

“Careful, stairs ahead,” Mary said.

I immediately slowed. Once I was on the first step, I counted until I stepped onto the lower level. From there, it was easy to set my hand against the wall and find my way to the main room. A fire burned low in the fireplace and a lantern lit the table.

“A lantern,” I said with excitement. “That’s perfect.”

“It was in the bags of supplies. Wini thought we might need it.”

I sat at the table to inspect it. I recalled my grandmother having a hurricane lamp in her living room. This lantern was similar in that it had a wick, but the glass globe completely protected the flames. The handle and hood made it safe to hang from a hook and not burn down the building.

Mary set a plate before me and sat across from me.

“Thank you.” My stomach growled when I saw a quarter of some type of fowl, a baked potato, and peas. I picked up my fork.

“You never answered,” I said before I took my first bite. “How is he sweet?”

“He doesn’t know how to cook. But he cleaned the pheasant while I opened the can of peas and washed the potatoes. We didn’t talk. We worked together without needing to.”

I stopped chewing and studied her hopelessly infatuated expression. I didn’t understand their race. There was no courtship or time to get to know each other from what Mary said. The man decided whom he wanted, then bit her. Sure, she might fight back or decide to let someone else bite her, but that decision was based on what? Strength? We weren’t living in the prehistoric age where only the strongest survive. The world had changed. Why didn’t they see that? Winifred did. But she was trying to convince the men to change. In my opinion, she needed to start with the women.

I swallowed, took a sip of my Coke, and snapped my fingers before Mary’s eyes to get her attention.

“He didn’t do anything more for you than he would have done for himself. I’m not saying he isn’t sweet. I’m saying you’re labeling him sweet for doing ordinary things. Give him a real reason to be sweet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ask him to do something for you that your men normally wouldn’t do.”

She frowned and studied the table. I knew she was trying to think of something so I went back to eating.

“What would you ask for?” Mary asked after several minutes of silence.

I grinned at her. “You’ve slept in my bed. Which do you like better, floor or bed?”

She laughed.

“Bed.”

She stood and walked to the door. Gregory must have been close because he filled the frame within seconds. She motioned him in. I turned back toward my plate and pretended I couldn’t hear them.

“Hi, Gregory,” she said softly.

“You want a bed,” he said flatly.

I cringed. Just how well could they hear?

“Yep. I do. Charlene’s bed is clean and comfortable, but too small for the two of us. I won’t take hers. She needs it more than I do. But it sure is nice.”

There were several long moments of silence. I kept eating and stifled the urge to turn around.

“Fine,” he said finally. The door opened and closed again soon after.