Breathe the ocean in

9

MARI

I get up and walk for the talks with my pretty jailer reluctantly. I need to convey it somehow to him that nothing is possible between us in a horizontal plane. All the thoughts were way too obvious on his face few minutes ago and I had a great difficulty keeping my tone carefree. What I need is to try and bargain for the highest practicable in this country freedom. He has a sweet tongue, but I'm not sure what his heart is. The manners of a seasoned slave owner, or at least a total control freak, lay just beneath the surface. And I'm afraid, we may work our way to the fifty shades of a well-known color all of a sudden. Or I'm seeing things? Anyways we have to dot our "i". We know each other for the couple of days only, and there's so much of him in my life already, it makes my eyes strobe.

When I get to the kitchen, Kiram is eating his dinner straight out of the container with his hand not bothering with searching for the tableware. I know that is one of the local traditions, saw it in the restaurants already during the first days in Palera, but we were eating with the cutlery here till now, and they brought the forks for me back at Samir's house. Watching him is entertaining. It's weird, but his method of eating doesn't confuse me – Kir looks quite naturally. He pushes the second container my way kindly, and I'm joining the meal grabbing a fork and a knife first thing. But I don't hurry to start the conversation and watch him sideways. It looks like he calmed down. Maybe he's inadequate when he's hungry?

- Will you make a cup of coffee? – the boy asks amicably.

I push aside my meal box, it's delicious, but I have no appetite and no mood nonetheless. I start the coffee machine and turn on the kettle for me. While I'm fixing the drinks for us I'm looking at the boy out of the corner of my eye. He stays focused and morose, just being in his usual state as far as I learned him in such a short period of time. When I put his coffee in front of him not forgetting to add some of his favorite cardamom to it, Kir says never turning his head my side:

- Sorry. For the beach.

I don't want to discuss it. What's done is done. But we need to set priorities, so I take my place and make a sip of the refreshing green tea before telling him what I think.

- Kir, explain what you're up to? You promised to let me go in a year, then what all the hints are for? I honestly showed you the situation for my part. I love another man and I'm not going to cheat on him. If all of your words about me leaving are a lie, just say so. But keep in mind that I won't get to your bed of my own free will. Even if abusing women is a common thing in Palera, it's not the same in my country. I understand that you're a young boy, hormones and all the stuff. Just hold on a bit! You'll marry and enjoy in full measure. It's better than sleeping with a woman who hates you! – I finish eagerly.

He presses his lips into a thin line and clenches his fists:

- No... No, abuse is not common here. Women are protected and overly cherished on the contrary, – he shakes his head as if chasing away the clingy thoughts. – All the rules you're annoyed with are made for your own protection and safety. Maybe you're right these are just the hormones. I'll try to hold back, I don't need an enemy in my own house, vice versa I want us to become friends. I accept your right for the private space. But I ask you to honor our traditions in return. It will help us to achieve our mutual goal.

- Okay. Now it's more like the honest dialogue, – I smile back. – So tell me more about those traditions.

Kir explains where I can and cannot go, what company I should have in different cases and how I should wear. He explains how I should talk to different people and when I should be silent as a rock. From all the said it follows that I'd better spend the next year in seclusion. Although it comes out that a woman can show her face and talk to the other men in case if it's officially allowed by the owner of the house and it's possible in a circle of close friends only. Under the supervision of her master and husband of certainly.

- I'll introduce you to my friends and their women eventually. Did you like Dina?

- I did, – I don't deny. Without specifying that I'm not eager to blend into his life.

I love to meet new people. God, I know so many people around the world, he can't even imagine. Sometimes it's hard for me to find a right person in my socials, because there are few dozens of the namesakes. But I don't want to communicate anybody here and to make friends. I'm sick with Palera.

- Things will work out, Mari. You'll get used to it. We'll get used to each other.

- Remember you asked me not to call you a baby? – Kir breathes out angrily, he's so sensitive about his young age, and it's cute. – Well, now you talk like you're the old man who lost his focus in life.

We laugh together over this basically not funny joke. Ease the stress.

- I like "my man" much more, – he greens blatantly when finishes laughing.

- Don't you go there again, – I frown.

He withdraws his hands in front of him in a protective gesture:

- No way. It's just the statement. Well, according to the laws of Palera I'm your man and master, – he gets that it makes only worse and shuts up.

- I think we call it a night, – I try to move down from the awkward topic. – We're having an early start tomorrow again.

So we go to our rooms after saying each other our 'good nights'.

KIRAM

The fragile armistice is reached, but I'm still having a heavy heart. And there's no point in guessing, the reason is obvious. 'I won't get to your bed of my own free will,' – she said. I'm freaking again. Why am I worse? I brush off her words about love, it's something mythical from the girls' tales. There's a real life, and good relations altogether with care play a primary role here. I always thought so. It irritates me terribly that Mari refers to my age all the time, takes me for a boy. I may be younger but I'm able to take care of my family still. No matter how hard she denies it, now we're family. Well, I know she doesn't react to my presence the proper way, her breath never quickens when I touch her, it even dies fearfully in opposite. And I want her to burn the same fire which incinerates me with every touch. I hope all she needs is time for the image of that guy to erase from her mind. And I'll be by her side to replace him when the moment comes. I'm looking toward it like hell. The thought that she's dreaming not about me but of some total strange man in her bed right now infuriates me. I have to find out what this dude is. May be I could discredit him somehow? Just to speed up the process of forgetting.

Not wanting to postpone it I'm calling my father and asking him to send me everything he holds over Mari. He chuckles and says that I'm being strikingly slow claiming the information today only, but he mails me her personal files. I run the voice assistant and listen to the beautiful bedtime story. It's about the girl who lived by the warm ocean but left it for the cold severe country where she had met her prince and planned her happily ever after. It looks like I'm the vicious dragon in this fairytale. And the dragons protect their treasure from prying eyes pretty well. I find out everything I can about her starting with the date of birth and finishing with the members of her family. Here is the brief medical information telling that my girl is entirely healthy. She has never been pregnant, and I'm glad with the fact. The short list of her trips during the last year impresses me – seven countries without Arana and Palera itself. Apparently she can't stay put. Let her sweat a little, just one year, and then I'll organize a trip for her, more than one if she wants. There's not much data about her boyfriend: Alexander Evans, the native of Arana, famous musician who's one year older than Mari. They announced their engagement not that long ago, few months only, though they're a couple for four years now. I know, it's okay to live together before the marriage there, but he's weird – I'd drag a girl like that to the priest a week after meeting. You snooze, you lose, Evans. I listen to a couple of his nagging songs, those cause the gnashing of my teeth. I can't withstand it anymore and toss my pillow to the wall angrily on the third one which starts with appeal to the listeners, the concert record obviously. 'This song is for you, baby. Love you for infinity.' And the tear-jerking snots about love follow the words. She's bailing on me because of this moron, really? Sorry, 'baby', now I'm the only one to sing for you.

I'm tossing and turning for half a night thinking of my plan for the future. When it's finally issued in my mind, I fall asleep with a mockery smile on my lips.