Page 92 of Nine-Tenths

"Many wear the emblem stitched into their clothing. Others, as a motif or cameo in a piece of jewelry. In some cultures, tattoos are given to honored Favorites. Though that has never quite caught on amid the courts of my cousins. I could, ah, have a signet ring commissioned for you, should you like?"

"A ring," I echo, the connotations of theothersymbolic meaning of a ring clanging in my brain. "Or a tattoo? Man, I don't know if I'm ready to be that permanent."

Dav looks at me with slowly dawning worry. "Colin. Itispermanent. You do understand that, don't you?"

I shove a giant piece of pasta in my face.

Dav uses his napkin to wipe sauce off my chin, and takes both of my hands in his. "Look at me, Mine Own."

I look at him, chewing morosely. I've done it again. I've gone and ruined everything by being impulsive and…

"Best you swallowbeforeyou have the panic attack," Dav says, effectively cutting off my growing anxiety with annoyance.

I swallow. "So what is this, then? Like… marriage?"

"No," Dav says, far too quickly for my liking. "A spouse is not the same as a Favorite. You may marry elsewhere. Should you choose it. Though I would not prefer that. Idolove you." He says it simply, like it's a fact of the universe.

"So, Sarah. Is she, like, an Own?"

"Oh no, only of my hoard. Her whole family has been, since her great-grandfather was Collected into my service as a batman during the Great War."

"So they're…yours." I sit back. I'm not sure what my expression is doing, but I can't imagine it's reassuring.

"Yes."

"I… sorry." I spring up from my chair, filled with more frenetic energy than I know what to do with. "Let me get this straight. Once a human enters your… your vassal-dom, or whatever, they can't leave. Ever?"

"Why would any want to?" He shrugs.

"You own the kids, too?" I ask, mouth twisted in distaste.

"Obviously."

"Explain to me how this is any different from slavery!" I shout, and we're both startled by the way my voice bounces around the kitchen.

"My hoard are not slaves." Dav stands. "They're not mistreated, they're not abused, and they are never forced to do that which they would find distasteful. I pay them, and very handsomely, for their expertise!"

"And will you pay me, too?" I ask. "For my 'expertise'?"

"Colin!"

"Answer me!"

He squirms. "You will live on my largesse. The estate is comfortable. I can keep you in whatever—"

"Keepme," I spit.

"You can still work, if you want! Only, you don'thaveto."

"And what would I do all day?"

"Whatever you like!" Dav says, reaching for me desperately, but I duck out of the way.

"And what if I want to leave?"

Dav stops, arms dropping. "That, you may not do. You donned my token, Colin. In full view of Simcoe's enforcers. There weretelephoto lenses across the street. The media havephotosof it. This is not like a human engagement you can call off." Right, that fucking hits like a wrecking ball. Asshole. "There's no, no… takesie-backsies!"

"But I didn't know that when I did it."