Kat

Kat, Chapter Eight

The mop made a slushing sound as she squeezed the water out of it and began to mop the entryway. Cobb had tracked some mud in earlier, and she cursed him for it as she swept the mop to and fro, soaking up the footsteps. She was growing used to her chores, though, and almost found them relaxing. A little bit of private time to think.

She dunked the mop in the bucket, squeezed it out, and continued to mop. Her mind, however, was vacant, unfocused. Tracing back to last night. The sounds of the sobs, the sound of the hurt, the pain she'd felt in her chest. And why had she even felt it? Did Persephone cry when Hades felt pain? She doubted it.

Then again, it was her fault for eating the pomegranate. What had Kat done wrong? She huffed and mopped harder. Oh yeah. The theft.

She and Persephone had a good bit in common, then, she thought bitterly. Both dragged into hell because of some stupid, benign action. Both attached to Hades himself. Was she tortured too? Were her dreams tormented by echoes of the past? And did she start to care for Hades, eventually?

How alike were they really? Kat shook her head, surprised she even remembered that myth, and continued to mop. She was almost finished when Cobb walked into the room, passing through the foyer on his way to the kitchen, platter in hand. She glared at him, and he simply passed her a curiously sly look.

Before he left, though, he stopped and looked at her. "You wanted to talk?"

She swallowed and gripped the mop handle. "Yes."

He nodded. "Very well," he said, setting his tray down on a small table by the door. "The Madam is in her room, safely out of earshot. We may speak here."

"Right. Um," Kat started, searching around the room as if it would offer her some sort of starting point. "You... seem to care about Mistress a lot."

Cobb raised an eyebrow. "I do," he said, walking over to the stairs and sitting on them. Kat let her mop lean against the wall and walked over to him, kneeling in front of him. He grinned. "You don't have to kneel for me."

Kat felt a blush rising in her cheeks. "I-I know that. It's just..."

Cobb waved her thought away. "Don't worry. I understand. Now then, what did you want to talk about?"

"Well," Kat started, keeping her voice low. "I... why do you care about Her so much?"

Cobb shrugged. "The Madam's family and my own have been friends for quite a while. It is only fitting that I care for my friends."

Kat shook her head. "But why. She's a slave owner. Why would you care for someone who sees other people as property? I don't get it."

Cobb tapped his chin in thought, humming quietly to himself. "I'm sensing a deeper meaning in this conversation."

The blush returned. "Well, I, um, I just don't see how you can like her. She views you as property, I bet. I'll bet on it."

"And do you have the money to cough up when you lose? Because if not, I'm not interested in betting you anything," he said with a smile.

"I-I, well, no. But I'm just saying--"

Cobb shushed her. "Madam Kilovich owns you, yes. But do you not think that she views you as her most valued possession?"

"A possession is still a thing, Cobb."

He shook his head. "It's more nuanced than you make it out to be," he said. "I've seen Her with Sarah. What you see as merely owning property, She sees as something completely different. She views it more as... well, perhaps this is a conversation for you to have with Her."

"No," Kat snapped, hushed. Then, gently, "No. She'll..."

"She'll what?" Cobb asked. "Beat you? Because if you think that that is the kind of person She is, you're sadly mistaken. Or perhaps, happily."

Kat glared at him. "Why should I trust you?"

Cobb shrugged. "Why shouldn't you? When have I ever steered you wrong?"

Kat opened her mouth to object, but found that there was nothing to say. "You haven't... yet. But you will. I know people like you."

"People like me?" he asked, a bemused look on his face. "Clearly you know some rather fine people then. Because I assure you, you may take me at face value. I am rather blunt. And, if you don't mind me exemplifying that right now, you're being a bit of a brat."

"A brat?"

Cobb nodded. "Quite disrespectful. To me, to the Madam, to yourself. If I may say, how dare you presume that the Madam is a monster without even having the compassion to attempt to get to know her. You're quite standoffish, and without even attempting to be vulnerable, you make these presumptions about her? That seems rather disrespectful, no?"

Kat stuttered for a moment, but failed to speak.

Cobb shook his head and sighed. "I apologize. Sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my mind. You should know that She has instructed me to be gentle with you. She worries for you, you know. You ought to, at least."

"I..."

Cobb stood and picked up his platter. "Just something to think on," he said, walking away, leaving her there, alone, in the foyer.