Knox stared at the girl as she stood in the lounge room clutching the black suit for dear life; her brown eyes – the eye colour of slaves – were wide and filled with surprise. He couldn’t quite believe that out of all the slaves in Agarta she had to be the one that was making his suite for a formal dinner, he couldn’t get away from this girl and he was terrified of her. There was something about the girl that made him… think differently than how he usually thought; his mind became incoherent as his mother pushed the girl towards him, saying something about hurrying up with making the suit.
Robotically, Knox turned and walked to his bedroom, he didn’t know what he was doing, he didn’t know how he was supposed to walk – if he was walking strangely – and he was terrified of saying something and it being completely stupid. But this was a slave girl, a secondary human compared to him; she couldn’t even breathe without his permission – obviously an exaggeration, but the meaning was basically the same.
“Should I go outside, whilst you change?” The girl asked politely, she had a mature voice, far beyond that of what her golden brown curls told him and it took a moment before Knox just nodded silently.
He took off his shirt as she just closed the door, putting on the handmade white shirt Knox felt the softness of the material, the stitching on the sleeves were impeccable and tiny as if they had a mouse do it for them. But after that, Knox didn’t pay the suit any more attention, it was for a dinner and unlike his mother and father, Knox wasn’t too excited about it. The dinner was with Lt Ryker, who wanted to talk to Knox's parents about his future and his career in the military. There was nothing about the event that pleased Knox; he just had to be there because his father was a Lieutenant and is was a good way for Knox to rub shoulders with his leader.
The girl re-entered the room as Knox was just buttoning up the black jacket, the buttons were beautiful pieces of work, and the Agarta flag was etched into the silver metal. Knox stood in front of the full length mirror that covered one part of the wall as the girl took the cushion of pins and knelt in front of Knox, pinning the loose pants closer to his legs.
“What’s your name?” Knox asked, he hated silence and since he kept running into this girl he might as well know her name. It wasn’t uncommon for a Highborn to know the name of a slave.
“Haven, sir.” She answered politely, but Knox could tell that she didn’t want to make conversation; perhaps she hated him- which was completely ridiculous because she didn’t even know him.
“My name is Knox,” he replied back, he hated silence; there was nothing worse to Knox than having silence crowed a room and suffocate it.
“Yes, sir.” Replied the girl, she smiled at him, a polite subservient smile, before Knox felt the sharp pin dig inside his leg.
It was reflex when he slapped the girl, making her sprawl over the floor, he had seen his mother and father do it when one of the slaves accidentally went too far deep. But unlike them Knox instantly regretted it (it was this feeling now, regret, that was one of the ‘red flags’ to Highborns becoming sympathetic to slaves, re-assigning always followed after a Highborn showed this emotion )and after a moment he knelt down beside her, helping her to her feet. She didn’t cry though, just massaged her now red cheek and averted her eyes away from his.
“I’m sorry, I know it was an accident, I shouldn’t have hit you.” Knox rambled, trying to get the girl to look at him, but she didn’t budge which meant that Knox was left just standing in front of her feeling completely useless.