“Tove,” you say.

“Yes,” she says.

“A human thrall against an Earl serving under our host. You were right to leave this thrall on the floor.”

“No, Theta, I wasn’t,” she says. “I really, really wasn’t. Who was Tove to me but an obstacle? He’s not of the Clan, but more importantly, he’s not mine, and you are both of those things, and that puts you higher than any Earl. I took the easy way out.”

She wraps her arms around her shoulders, hugging herself.

You aren’t sure what to say to this, so you say nothing. You busy yourself tidying up the kitchen, clearing the lunch and dessert plates away, leaving only the coffee pot, the ice bucket, and two clean glasses with straws. When you’re finished, you stand behind your mistress’s chair, and embrace her.

“Mistress,” you whisper after a while, “sometimes this thrall makes mistakes. Sometimes this thrall still has feelings above her station.”

“You may explain yourself in plain language, Theta,” Cora says, quietly.

“Mistress, I wanted to get up. If I’d gotten up, I would have wanted to hit him back. If I’d hit him back, I would have gotten my ass kicked. Yes?”

“Well…”

“If it pains me to be the instrument of your will, it is because I am imperfect. If it pains you to have deferred to Tove, it is because Tove is an asshole. And if it pleases Mistress, I would very much like to do better next time we encounter him, if you would care to prepare me to assist you in the ‘hard way’.”

Cora reaches for one of your hands and squeezes it. “It would please me very much. In fact… you’re already prepared, and I would very much enjoy being around if you ever meet Tove again. Now let’s keep going, shall we?”

The next codeword is Chartreuse.