Moments Alone

Islana had awoken a little before Shalia left, so she was able to tend to any last minute things the dark haired woman needed. Then it was time for the feast, Islana was left alone with her thoughts for the moment.

The red locks were a mess by now. The braid had come undone. The ribbon, Shaila had put in it was easy to find, rebraiding it however wouldn't be with her arm injured.

Leaving it a mess wasn't an option, in the redhead's mind. She used her right hand to undo the tangles. And despite the discomfort managed to pull her hair back and tie the ribbon in it so it wouldn't get lost. It was an almost certain thought that Shalia would fix it how she wanted after her return.

The question now came to what to do so she wasn't stuck in the endless loop of memories that had followed her. She wanted to remember her friends but it was incredibly painful to do so. So, instead her mind went to the exploring the fabrics and textures of the room. It was quite beautiful but didn't last long, so it was a relief seeing the same old woman with the metal collar, and a tray placed on the table.

This tray had a large serving container in the middle, with what smelled like a similar stew. Two large bowls and one smaller one, three glasses of water and more bread.

Islana stood there for a moment, as the two guards that had been left outside her door walked in and sat down.

Of course, it should have been obvious the food was for them. The smaller bowl for her but it was just as obvious she was probably supposed to serve them. She was Shalia's personal slave, but in the minds of the men that still made her a slave and a woman.

They know not to touch what's mine. Those words made Islana feel a lot less nervous about this situation.

It would be best to be cordial, at least. Especially, if these men might have to help her one day. Islana went into slave mode. Serving the men, avoiding eye contact and not sitting without permission.