Married to Krampus - Marina Simcoe Page 0,49
was ending in two weeks. After that, Olvar and Zun would be regularly spending two days a week at home. I felt like I was finally about to fulfill my true purpose for being here. My actual employment was about to start.
Would an employer splurge on his nanny like that? Even if she was disguised as his wife?
Would a real nanny have the intense desire to rub her hands all over her boss’s abs the way I had this morning?
The role of a nanny came with the restrictions I was beginning to realize I couldn’t follow. That’s where all this confusion was coming from in the first place. My head, my body—and yes, my heart, too—were all in disagreement on what I should and shouldn’t want.
I closed my eyes for a moment, struggling to collect my thoughts and emotions.
A nanny would negotiate for a salary to be paid to her, instead of buying a dress. Money defined a relationship better than words.
A wife would buy the clothes without overthinking it.
Which one did I really want to be?
“I’ll take it,” I said to Lievoa.
“Great! Let me find some matching shoes, too. We’ll need to custom order those, you know, with your feet being the only pair of human feet in all of Voran.” She giggled, grabbing her tablet.
After buying the dress, the scarf, the shoes, and also a few pieces of fashion jewelry to go with all of it, I finally managed to leave the store.
Lievoa and I had lunch under one of the indoor gazebos draped in flower garlands in the mall. Then, we went to the beauty boutique where Lievoa had a polishing appointment booked that afternoon. “Polishing,” as she had explained to me on the way, included a series of procedures meant to make her horns, hooves, and claws smooth and shiny. The service also included painting designs on them.
Unlike many other places in Voran, there was almost the same number of women as men in the Central Mall. No one appeared to be in a hurry. Groups of people gathered under vine-draped gazebos built between the stores, enjoying refreshments served by drones and chatting with friends.
As expected, I got a lot of stares. By now, news of my arrival had been broadcast everywhere. The pictures of me on the Colonel’s arm at the Governor’s Ball had been in every print publication and online tabloid.
Most people knew who I was, but it didn’t stop them from eyeing me with curiosity. Those who knew Lievoa approached us to say hi to her and to take a closer look at me, which considerably slowed our progress through the mall.
“Listen,” Lievoa said to me as we came to the beauty boutique. “You have no horns or hooves to polish. This will be boring for you.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t mind waiting.”
“It’ll take at least an hour. Too long to wait with nothing to do.” She glanced around. “I can’t really send you store browsing on your own, either.”
“I can take care of myself,” I protested.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that, but Grevar would lift me on his horns if he learned I left you alone in the middle of the crowded mall. Here!” She dragged me to a tall arch of pale pink flowers that marked the entrance to a store with a glowing sign over it.
An AI frame that looked like a festive version of Omni, draped in sheer, shimmering fabrics and decorated with paint and flowers, rolled out to greet us.
“Welcome to the Dream Spa,” it said in a melodious, feminine voice.
“Hi,” Lievoa yanked me to her by my hand. “A massage for the lady, please?”
“Would it be for excitement or relaxation?” the frame enquired.
“Relaxation. How long does a full body massage take?”
“An hour.”
“Perfect.” Lievoa turned to me. “You’ll have a massage while I get my stuff done. By the time you’re ready, I’ll be here to get you.”
She bounced off, leaving me in the care of the AI.
The frame led me into a changing room. The walls here were covered in the same shimmering pink material and flowers.
“Please change here.” The arrow on the screen pointed at the cream-coloured silk robe on the wall. “And leave your clothing in this room.”
As soon as the AI left me alone and the door to the dressing room closed, I got out of my dress and shoes. I found no spa slippers anywhere, as was to be expected. Wrapped into the bathrobe, I padded out of the room barefoot.
“I’m ready,” I said