his victim. I wouldn’t let him break me. That had never been part of the deal.
So on the second day of Arokan’s absence, I asked Mirari and Lavi to bring me hide, cloth, a needle, and cordage.
Mirari cast a long look at Lavi, like the other female understood what I said, after my request.
“I want to make my own clothes,” I said, looking at her, dressed in my sheer shift dress. “Since my other clothes seem to have been lost in the wash.”
Mirari didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. “They had holes in them. I had no choice but to burn those rags.”
I took a deep, calming breath and gave her a small, hopefully charming, smile. Then again, I’d never been good at charming anyone, so it most likely fell flat. “Please. I don’t blame you for throwing them away, but I’d like to make other clothes that I’m more…myself in. I don’t feel comfortable in Dakkari outfits.”
“Why not?” Mirari asked, like it was a personal insult.
“If I bend over, all of the horde would see my backside,” I said, bluntly. “I don’t like feeling exposed.”
“The Vorakkar said you were not to have weapons,” Mirari said quietly.
My brow furrowed. If I wanted a weapon, I could have stolen one from Arokan’s belt during his baths, or when he slept at night. I’d had the opportunity before. It wouldn’t have been difficult.
“A needle is hardly a weapon,” I countered, “and I can’t stitch if I don’t have one.”
Mirari still didn’t look convinced. Lavi simply looked confused about the exchange and kept looking to Mirari for guidance.
“Please,” I said again. I licked my lips, clearing my throat as I said, “If I’m going to stay here, if I’m going to be part of this horde…I need to do it my way. And I know it seems silly, but something as simple as making my own clothes, as feeling comfortable walking through the camp will make a difference to me.”
Mirari watched me, as if trying to discern if I was telling the truth or not. Finally, she nodded. “Lysi, I will get them for you.”
She said something in Dakkari to Lavi, who seemed to protest, but then she left the tent, returning a short while later with the supplies I’d asked for, along with a few…embellishments. Like gold beads, clasps, and strips.
We set them out on the low table and I got to work under their dutiful watch.
After I’d taken my measurements, I started cutting the hide I would use to make pants. Mirari, despite her protestations, had brought me a small razor for the purpose, though her gaze was sharp on me as I made use of it and she took it away the moment I was done with it.
“I worked as a seamstress,” I said quietly, my eyes rapt on the cloth, “back in my village. As an assistant to one, actually.”
“Then why were your clothes in such disrepair?” Mirari asked, boldly.
I almost laughed. “Because I made clothes for others, not myself. Cordage was hard to come by. I didn’t want to waste it.”
“We have heard little of human settlements,” Mirari said softly, surprising me. “We know there are many spread across Dakkar, but we hear tales of their disrespect to Kakkari, of their uprisings and violence.”
I sobered. “My village was peaceful. We were poor, but we were peaceful.”
Mirari made a sound in the back of her throat. “We all saw the black smoke the day the Vorakkar brought you here.”
“That was an accident.”
“How is setting fire to Kakkari an accident?” Mirari asked. Her tone wasn’t angry. It sounded like she simply wanted to understand. I was learning that despite her insistence that she was there to serve me, that she was there as my piki, she spoke her mind. She wasn’t afraid to. I liked that about her.
“My brother set the fire,” I told her.
“Your brother? Yet the Vorakkar brought you in his stead?”
“I made a deal with him,” I said. That night seemed like so long ago. But it had only been a handful of days. “He spared my brother in return.”
“Why did your brother start the fire?” Mirari asked, watching me. “Burning our land, our Kakkari…it is the ultimate insult.”
“I know,” I whispered. “He knew too. But our village is on the verge of starving.”
Mirari blinked at the knowledge.
“He heard that burning the land for crops makes the soil healthier, makes the possibility for life greater. He was only trying to help our village, in his