They spent most of their time in the bedroom. The few times they ventured out were to eat, but she’d initially requested having dinner in the room so she wouldn’t have to face the other girls. Ronika had knocked on her door a few times and they’d had a conversation in the doorway—Kaley declining the day out so she could spend that time with Mecca instead. It seemed pointless to spend all of her waking hours at the lab when nothing positive was coming of it. She was slowly but surely proving Charlotte right—she wasn’t capable of ground-breaking achievements, so why should she continue to sacrifice her free time? She’d sacrificed enough already. Every optional day off now saw her in Mecca’s arms while every required day at the lab was filled with frustration.
She did what she could, going through the motions and assembling the components for her scanner. They hadn’t worked independently so she knew they wouldn’t work together but she had to do something. Her time on Femme was fast turning into a learning holiday rather than a way of securing herself a position here. Glay continued to feed her information and offer assistance. She was grateful for the woman’s presence. She made the project tolerable.
The only time she was happy was with Mecca. He was teaching her to forgive herself, to feel calm about her place in life and dampened her anxiety. He gave her a different perspective, always positive and uplifting. In return, she gave him her heart even though she felt like she was failing him. With her project doing so poorly, there was no chance she would be able to stay on Femme and request for Mecca be assigned to her. They would have to take more drastic action.
“I’m going to request asylum,” she said as they lay entwined in her huge bed. She drew shapes on his chest with her finger while huddled in the crook of his arm. “With my knowledge of Wanderers, Femme should allow me to live here rather than send me back to an Authority world. Once I get approval, I’ll then be in a position to nominate you as my personal slave.”
Mecca was silent as his hand stroked her bare hip.
“My mother will understand. We can still talk through portal-phone. I think she wants me to take control of my life and start living it. She’s always been concerned about my strong focus on my studies,” Kaley said, giving a light laugh but still feeling a heavy pain in her chest from the knowledge that she might never see her mother again.
He must’ve felt her dismay because he shifted and squeezed her closely to him, whispering words of gratitude and love, kissing her forehead and nuzzling her cheek. It was very easy to kiss him back, to match his passion and return the sentiment. She’d never known and felt such love and knew she likely never would again. Not like this. Kaley not only loved, she knew she was in love.
It was approaching lunchtime when they exited the bedroom. Wrapped in a wispy multi-coloured dressing gown, she felt as though she was floating to the table where her specs lay waiting. Kaley intended on finding a nearby place to dine with Mecca. Her dreamy, happy bubble popped when she noticed the Judgement she was supposed to watch the High Priestess perform was booked for this afternoon.
Time had performed somersaults while she wasn’t looking. First it dragged, then it raced, leaving her to feel like her whirlwind romance had taken forever to begin. Four weeks sounded both ridiculously short and surprisingly long for what she’d gone through. Mecca came out wearing an expression of curiosity and nothing else. Kaley felt juvenile enough to giggle but sobered up when he pulled her close. She reached up, clinging to him as he planted small kisses on her cheeks and lips.
“What surprised you?” he asked after a moment.
“You walked out nuddy,” she said with another giggle. He laughed and she wasn’t sure if it was at her or because of her, but didn’t mind either way.
“You were surprised before you saw me,” he clarified.
“Oh,” she said, and turned her head so she could see where her specs had gone. She couldn’t remember where she’d put them. She was surprised when she realised they were still over her eyes. She was getting very good at ignoring their icons and text now. “Sorcha. I’m supposed to watch her today, after lunch.”
“You are referring to the High Priestess Sorcha?” he asked. “It is not customary to name the High Priestess without her full title,” he advised, falling into habit.
“Are you going to report me?” she teased.
“I would not be disloyal to my mistress,” Mecca replied, lowering his head so he could take her earlobe in his teeth, gnawing gently. It was something he’d discovered she loved. Delightful shivers ran along her spine and she clung to him more tightly. It was deliciously naughty to be held by a naked man.
“Let’s not start up again or we’ll never leave this room,” she said. He grinned at her like he was okay with that. “But if you’re not allowed to come, I don’t want to go,” she added.
“It would be good for you to see the event,” he told her. His serious expression did more to convince her than his words. “And there are hearings I am able to attend downstairs while I wait for you. I find them interesting.”
“What happens at the hearings?”
“Young men are assigned their occupation,” he said. “Their highest skills are listed and they then have the opportunity to nominate their life task.”
“So men do get to choose?” she asked with a smile.
“Nobody chooses to be a slave, Kaley,” he said. She was too shocked to respond. He sensed her embarrassment and hugged her closely again, whispering an apology into her ear. Kaley wondered how she could be blind to the slavery when it was everywhere, even in her own vocabulary.