Bee Among the Clover by Fae Sutherland, Marguerite Labbe Page A

frowned himself. “Did Wulfgar send you?”
    Aron’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “No, he didn’t. I….” He hesitated, and Roman wondered what Aron had been about to say. For some reason he couldn’t comprehend, Aron seemed irritated every time he mentioned the thane, but it didn’t seem to be in connection with his own indenture. Roman waited, curious, until finally Aron shrugged and exhaled in frustration. “You said the first night you were unwilling, so why is it you’re angry with me for taking your place in Wulfgar’s bed? It’s not as if I asked to be there.”
    Roman straightened, sudden fury lashing through him, though Aron did not seem cowed in the least by his scathing expression. Instead he stared back at him unwaveringly, demanding an answer Roman wasn’t willing to divulge. After a moment, Roman flushed and looked away. “It isn’t any of your concern.”
    He attempted to brush past Aron, intent on making for the hall and hiding himself away in Wulfgar’s chambers, but Aron caught his arm. “Aye, it is my concern. You’ve made it that way with your half-truths and ill will. Speak plainly for once.”
    Roman looked down at the hand holding him. He could break away easily, yet he could not. He had no right to tell the other man not to touch him, but the hard stare he gave Aron spoke volumes and, after hesitation, Aron released him.
    He took a steadying breath. “It isn’t something that can be answered simply.” He had no wish to reveal his innermost thoughts and feelings to Aron. Why couldn’t he just go away and pester the warriors again? All he had wanted was a little peace, was that too much to ask for?
    Roman said nothing, but it soon became apparent Aron had no qualms about standing there until he got the answers he was after. The slave didn’t intend on giving them to him, but he had to give him something, that much was clear.
    “You see things in absolutes, Aron, and the world doesn’t work in that manner. You obey, don’t you? Does that mean you are willing?”
Aron’s brows furrowed, and he glowered. “It’s not the same.” But even he knew that was untrue. It was the same. He sighed and looked away from Roman’s implacable stare. “Very well, perhaps it’s similar, but it doesn’t explain why you’re angry with me. Do you think I can’t see it? You might fool others, but it’s clear to me that you see my presence here as an intrusion. If you’re only obeying, why aren’t you grateful?”
The slave’s eyes were unreadable, and for a moment Aron was sure he didn’t intend to answer him. When Roman did speak, his voice was emotionless. “What’s my purpose then, Aron?”
Aron had no answer. As far as he was concerned, Roman was welcome to the thane’s attentions, and he wouldn’t care in the least. It was clear that Roman, however, did not feel the same. He shifted uncomfortably and looked away, shaking his head. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” He turned on his heel, cursing himself for being a fool. They had nothing to say to each other. “My apologies for interrupting you, whatever you were doing up there,” he tossed back over his shoulder.
Roman caught up with Aron and fell in beside him. “No, I should apologize, I was being rude.”
Aron paused, looking over at Roman to see if he was mocking him, but he didn’t seem to be this time. How could he explain what had driven him to speak when he didn’t understand it himself? “How long have you been here?” The question surprised him. It hadn’t been what he’d intended on saying, yet he was curious about Roman. How had he come to be here?
“Four years,” Roman said, his voice so soft that Aron almost hadn’t heard him. He looked away, his shoulders tensing.
Aron’s eyes widened. The way that Roman acted, one would think he’d been a slave all of his life. Four years wasn’t that long, though every time he thought about his own year of service it seemed like an eternity.
Aron