Amanda felt yet another sharp tug on her collar chain despite the fact that she was keeping pace; she suspected that Halno, the Head of Staff, did it because he could.

The completion of her remedial training meant she was a full slave, and thus accessible to Norlan's servants. Unlike slaves, servants were employees, and thus entitled to salary and benefits. Amanda and her ilk were one of the latter.

At first, Amanda had been grateful. The servants were a talkative lot, and liked to trade gossip or comment on current events. Moreover, Halno had the authority to unseal her if a servant wished actual intercourse. In fact, all requests to use her in that particular manner had to come through him. Thus he exercised his own "executive privilege" with Amanda every morning.

Halno took Amanda to his quarters just after the sun had risen, shining milky-white through the frosted windows. It was a single chamber, with living and sleeping areas merged into one cramped space not much larger than her old slave quarters in Oceanus. Everything was impeccably clean and arranged in a calculated order. A faint antiseptic smell hung in the air.

He removed the chain from her collar, but left her wrists shackled behind her. He turned his lean, lanky frame towards her and slapped the inside of one of her thighs, even as Amanda had already started to spread her feet.

Amanda's breath quickened. Her pussy oozed in anticipation, and her heart pounded in hope that this time would be different. But Halno prepared the unsealant as he always did, with just a few tiny dabs on a single fingertip.

Nevertheless, she shuddered when his fingertip slid slow and slick over her damp seal. The seal dissolved at the center of her tunnel and around the edges of her labia. More moisture was liberated, which coated his finger. When the remaining unsealant was properly diluted and useless, he slipped his finger inside her with a faint squish.

Amanda shivered and bit her lower lip, willing herself to respond as he pumped his finger in and out of her primed sex. She felt little more than a tiny, dull rise, her womanhood still encased in sealant and almost numb to his direct touch. He verified it with cruel certainty when he rubbed her sealed womanhood with vigorous strokes of his now slick finger. She felt little more than a vague, tantalizing tingle.

Halno withdrew his finger and slapped her ass, pointing to his bed. He never said a word to her, even in command. He never acknowledged that he thought one such as Amanda could even understand the spoken word, so much so that he had no qualms over speaking of internal matters with the staff in her presence. She believed this was a small price to pay for information.

Climbing upon the bed with her wrists secured behind her posed little problem. She had become adept at such things, and wondered if she would ever have a use for her hands again. Halno undressed and followed, his manhood already engorged. He positioned himself on his back and slapped her thigh again. She straddled him, a knee on either side, and nestled the side of his shaft within her damp folds.

He grasped her breasts and flicked his fingernails at her hard nipples until she panted and fresh moisture oozed over his cock. The little spike of pleasure in her sex primed her to anticipate more. He slapped her thigh once more, and she lifted her hips. He positioned his swollen manhood at her entrance and pulled her down hard, spearing her helpless pussy.

At first she was grateful to feel his hard presence inside her. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs against her nipples as she humped, renewed pleasure coursing through her sealed womanhood. But then his hands fell away, and so did her pleasure.

Amanda wanted to rush it; the thrust of his manhood inside her was little more than a duty now. Yet Halno would not let her. He kept a firm grip on her hips, forcing her to the exact pace that he wanted. When she forgot herself and tried to move faster before he was ready, she earned a sharp, stinging slap across her breasts.

She no longer felt that her pussy was her own, but simply a thing attached to her for his convenience. She could insist she was still a person, but she had to detach the notion of self from this part of her anatomy. Her pussy was a commodity, to be owned, used, bought, and sold.

Halno arched his back and moaned, and his movements faltered, his long fingers curling hard against her hips. Amanda guessed he was in climax. Only when she looked down and saw his seed trickle down his shaft as it leaked past her labia did she know for sure.

Amanda suppressed a sigh as Halno slapped her thigh so that she would extricate herself from him. As soon as Halno had climbed off the bed, she followed, earning a silent rebuke in the form of a dark look from his narrowed eyes. She guessed she was supposed to wait until he slapped her ass to signal his desire for her to leave the bed. She sometimes forgot that the Urisi wanted no initiative from a slave.

Or he simply enjoyed slapping her. Amanda believed that was just as likely. Halno resealed her, then reattached the chain and yanked her back into the corridor and led her to the servants' wing.

The servants on duty occupied their own small wing buried in a back corner of the palace. The burial was literal. The uneven lands around the palace rose such that the servants' wing abutted a small hill. The wing was separated from the rest of the palace by an archway covered by a thick drape, though few servants passed through it in the normal course of their duties. Instead, many narrow side-corridors ran along the outside walls, or along the thicker, load-bearing inside walls, so that they could see to the needs of Norlan and his guests, but melt into the background otherwise.

Yet Halno took her through this portal, parting the drapes for himself but letting them fall back before Amanda was through. The drape covered her face like a heavy, suffocating mask for a moment, and she gasped her next breath when she was through.

They had entered a long, rectangular chamber. Simple wooden chairs were strewn about the edges in no particular pattern. Two chambermaids were seated near one another. One had removed her shoes and was rubbing her feet. She glanced up at Amanda, frowned, and averted her eyes. Her companion made a noise of disgust, and turned herself in her chair so that her back was to the rest of the chamber.

Openings led to other chambers on either side. Amanda heard the clatter of dishes and cutlery as well as the splash of water. The air was heavy with the smell of soap and lye. From one of the entrances another maid appeared, pushing a cart filled with fresh linens. She kept her head carefully turned away from Amanda until she and her cart had disappeared down an adjoining corridor. At the far end of the chamber were four narrow doorways covered in more thick drapes.

Halno snapped the chain and pulled Amanda forward. From another entrance emerged three man-servants. Two had been engaged in conversation, something about needing to order more fresh meats by the next quarter moon. Their conversation stopped as Amanda passed. Unlike the women, they stared with lips curling into lascivious smirks. One gave Amanda's rear a playful slap as she passed, chuckling to himself and exchanging a lewd comment with his compatriot. Only the third of the trio remained silent, his eyes darting as if he did not know where to place his gaze.

Halno led Amanda to the rightmost of the four draped doorways. He slid the drape to one side, faint traces of magical energy crackling across its width as the spell upon it was momentarily lifted. Beyond it was a small alcove, the floor covered in furs. Several large wrought iron hooks jutted from the back wall just above Amanda's head.

Amanda understood that the Urisi high-borns preferred privacy in the sexual act, but it seemed misplaced here. The male servants went out of their way to ogle her and make crude sexual comments. Yet most of the female servants seemed as concerned with making a production out of their disapproval. Nothing of what she saw quite fit.

Halno attached the end of Amanda's chain to one of the hooks and secured it with a padlock. He left just enough slack on the chain so that Amanda could kneel if desired of her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the key to her shackles, attached to a small chain. He reached up to hang the key from the other hook.

"Master Halno?"

Halno frowned at Amanda as if the interruption were somehow her fault before turning his head. Amanda looked past him and saw one of the trio of man-servants standing just outside the alcove, the one with the uncertain eyes. Even now his gaze seemed furtive, as if he were trying to both look and not look at Amanda.

"What is it now, Marris?" Halno said. His voice was deeper than she had expected from someone so thin.

"I, uh, was told that I need to talk to you to get access to Lord Norlan's slave manifests."

Halno's frown deepened. He turned fully towards the servant, blocking Amanda's view and forcing her to lean to one side. For a moment, Marris looked straight into Amanda's eyes, his own shimmering.

"And why would you need that?" Halno asked in a cool voice.

"I need to know the slaves, um, skills. So I can properly arrange for the right matches at the High Feast."

Amanda took a half step forward. This would be the first time she heard any further detail about the High Feast past what little Norlan had told her.

"I do not recall giving you that duty, Marris."

"I know. I'm volunteering for it."

"I do not recall asking for volunteers, either."

"Master Halno, I've done this sort of thing before. I've worked for High Lord Astor in the past. He never had a complaint."

"I did not ask for your past work history. I had already assigned you management of the guest list."

Amanda took a closer look at Marris. She tended not to see much detail of anyone she met among the servants, as they all treated her the same behind the privacy drape: as an inanimate sex toy. Yet she was sure she would have remembered him for his blonde hair if nothing else, since most of the other servants had darker hair.

"That requires little effort," said Marris, sounding more confident. "I have already finished. I did wish to ask you, however, if the listing for Lord Ambassador Mandas was correct."

Amanda's eyes widened. She had heard that name before.

"The list is from the hand of Lord Norlan himself," said Halno in a haughty voice. "Unless you claim his memory is faulty."

"Not at all, Master Halno!" Marris said quickly. "I just know that there is, well, a history between Lord Norlan and--"

"That is not your concern. If he is on the list, he is an honored guest. Cease applying your creative interpretations on your orders."

Now Amanda remembered. Mandas was the one that had entered into a rather acrimonious bidding war over Amanda, filled with as many insults as it had actual bids.

"Yes, of course, Master Halno," Marris said.

"And you are not the first one to try such painfully obvious means to get at that manifest."

Marris looked at his superior with what Amanda thought was genuine confusion in his gray-green eyes. "I'm sorry?"

"I will tell you the same thing that I have told the others. You will use whatever slaves are posted here, and you will take your chances that they will give you what you want. Any slave is as good as another. They are all the same."

Marris started to shake his head, but stopped himself when he caught Amanda's gaze again. "Um." He paused, his eyes darting between her and Halno, and finally resting on the latter. "Uh ... yes. Yes, that's right! I am terribly sorry, Master Halno."

Halno glanced behind him and scowled. Amanda retreated to her original spot, hiding Marris from her view. "You are interested in this one, is that it?" said Halno as he turned to face Marris again.

"Um, yes, that's right. When I'm free later, that is."

"And I suppose you wanted to know what her expertise was."

"Yes, of course, that's it."

Halno sighed. "Hrm. I guess you've done good work since you came here. All right. Just so you don't go bothering me about this again, this one is good with her mouth. Really good." He lowered his voice. "On everyone."

"Every ...? Ah. Oh, um, yes, I understand."

Halno paused a moment as if in silent evaluation before he asked in a calculated voice, "Do you want her now?"

Amanda tensed in the silence. She found herself hoping he would say yes.

"Not right now, Master Halno," said Marris, his voice quavering slightly. "I have other duties to perform."

"Hrm." Halno turned and hung the key on a hook, then headed out of the alcove. "And yet you were so bothered about wanting to know--"

His words were cut off as the drape was yanked closed and the privacy spell activated once more, plunging her into stark silence.

Mandas was further convinced that Norlan was little better than a peasant after spending no more than a single candlemark seated at the table in the back of the tavern. Despite the establishment's somewhat more upscale clientele (several High Lord advisers sat in quiet conversation a short distance away) he felt it would take a quarter moon of bathing to wash the lingering sweat and grime from his person. Every time the door opened, the musky smell of fertilizer and fresh dirt wafted in from the fields across the road. He considered destroying the clothing that he wore as he was sure his washing maids would never get the smell out of it.

Thus the words of the scruffy, blonde-haired servant did little to calm him. "That's it?" Mandas demanded. "That's all you have on her?"

"I'm sorry, Lord Ambassador!" Marris cried, then glanced about and lowered his voice when he spoke again. "Master Halno would not let me see the manifests."

"Then how did you find out what little you did bring me? Did you make it up on the way over here?"

"No, my Lord! He ... Master Halno told me."

Mandas raised an eyebrow.

Marris sighed. "He thought I wanted to ... well, to use her."

Mandas smirked, a gesture entirely without humor. "And we know that's not true, don't we?"

Marris looked up, stricken.

"Oh, don't deny it. That's why you're so nervous around the slaves."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Marris said in a flat voice, though his eyes shimmered.

"Deny it if you wish. Frankly, I am not interested in the perversions of the peasantry. Most of what the peasants do disgust me as it is, so this is just one more on the heap."

Marris said nothing, keeping his gaze level with that of the Lord Ambassador.

"But others are not as magnanimous as I am. Perhaps you should consider that as well in your dealings with me."

"I-I know nothing else, my Lord," said Marris. "I told you the truth. That is all I was able to find out."

Mandas remained silent, looking pensive.

"My Lord, if that is all, may I go?"

Mandas sneered. "What? No demand of payment?"

"You're not satisfied with my information, so I thought it too presumptuous to ask."

Mandas nodded slowly. "Perhaps there is hope for you yet. Yes, you're right. You will not receive payment until I am satisfied, and now I will alter the payment. Now the payment is me keeping your little perversion a secret."

Marris' eyes widened before he could stop himself. "My Lord, I-I said, I wasn't--"

"All the more incentive to do as I ask to avoid propagating this 'vicious lie' about you. Now, some of the servants will be assigned to deal with the slaves during the High Feast, correct?"

"Yes, my Lord, but Master Halno has me handling the guests instead."

"Regardless, you will ensure you are involved, and you will ensure that I am paired with Amanda."

"But could you not simply make a request for her specifically?"

Mandas frowned. "You're no better than that oaf to whom you are employed. That is a breech of etiquette, and an excuse for Norlan to refuse me. Or did you forget that such things are at the host's discretion?"

"No, my Lord," Marris said in a low voice.

"This must be kept secret. You know all about keeping secrets already, so this should not be difficult. You can use my expressed desires as an excuse for the pairing."

"I'll try, my Lord."

"You will not try, you will do. Now, are you sure there is nothing else you have on her? Perhaps something you saw yourself with your own meager powers of observation?"

"She was in remedial training for awhile after Lord Norlan purchased her."

"Idiot. That is no different from any former Oceanus slave. Give me something else."

"Um ... she ... well, she seems very intelligent."

Mandas narrowed his eyes. "And how do you come by that, considering intelligence is not exactly a forte of your social class?"

Marris' eyes burned for a moment, and his voice was tense when he responded. "I've seen a lot of slaves in my time as a servant to various high-borns, my Lord. I can tell a lot about one by looking at her face."

"I suppose that would be the only part of her that interested you."

Marris' voice rose a bit. "And I can see whether there is any real thinking behind that face. I don't tend to see that a lot, so when I do see it, it tends to stand out. Let's put it this way, my Lord: if intelligence were light, her face would shine like a lighthouse."

Mandas considered. "Hmm. At the auction they stated she was undraughted."

"I would believe that, my Lord."

"It is little wonder, then, that the Oceanus slave system collapsed. Strange that it did not happen earlier. Surely proof that it was being propped up by the Nobility."

Marris said nothing. The knuckles of his fingers grew white as they gripped the edge of the table.

Mandas uttered a dramatic sigh. "Fine. You have your orders. Get out of my sight."

Marris bolted to his feet, the chair tipping back, saved from a crash to the floor by a frantic grab. He remembered himself just as he was about to turn away and bowed his head to Mandas before he fled.

Mandas waited until the servant had left, then exited the establishment himself, wrinkling his nose as a breeze blew off the tilled fields. He scurried away until he was no longer downwind, tall trees rising on either side of the winding road just short of the the center of town. He scrutinized his person, as if expecting to see bits of the lower social orders clinging to him in tangible form.

When he looked up again, a young, brown-haired figure raced towards him from the center of town. It was Mandas' Runner, a servant that received Farviews for him. Urisi protocol among high-borns favored using others to conduct the minutiae of Farviewing. It was considered crude to allow Farviewing pearls to be bound to one's person directly. Thus every Lord had a Runner for receiving Farviews and a Viewer for sending them.

Norlan was a notable exception, which earned him yet more disdain from his peers.

"What is it now?" Mandas demanded.

His Runner shuddered to a stop, kicking up dirt and gravel and earning a reproachful look from Mandas. "A message has arrived for you from Ambassador Norlan, my Lord," said the Runner in a breathless voice.

"What does the uncultured oaf want of me now?"

"He states that the storm along the coast has passed and that he intends to meet with the Lord Admiral of the rogue fleet."

Mandas frowned. "When?"

"This evening, my Lord."

"That bastard. He knows I can't make it before--"

Mandas stopped himself. Norlan would not know that Mandas was a stone's throw from Norlan's own palace.

"Summon my Viewer," Mandas said. "Have him get in touch with someone at the Royal Court to get me Portal passage to Port Heldon."

"But, my Lord, are not the use of the Portals restricted to--"

"Contact whomever you need to in order to authorize it!" Mandas snapped. "Contact the High Minister of State if required. Escalate it to His Majesty if you must!"

The Runner's eyes widened slightly, but he stood at crisp attention and bowed his head. "Yes, my Lord, at once!"

Mandas' lips curled into a sly smile as he watched his Runner dash back towards town. He believed he was already one step ahead of Norlan; he was not about to let Norlan leave him behind again.

Marris reentered the palace via the servants' entrance, at the bottom of steep stone steps dug into the hill. His heart pounded until he had reached the rectangular chamber with no one in attendance to see him arrive. He let out the breath he had been holding since he had started to descend the stairs.

Yet his next breath was met with the slap of a wet, soapy rag to his face. His nose burned and ran with the sting of strong detergent, and he gagged on foul, spent washing water when he tried to suck in air through his mouth.

Before he could lift his hands to ward off his attacker, the rag was whipped away, and his arm was seized in a grip that sent pins and needles crawling down to his hand. He coughed and sputtered as he was dragged into one of the washing chambers, where great stacks of plates, pans, and pots stood drying in the gentle downdraft from a gap in the ceiling stones.

"'ere now! Wot's the deal wi' this, Marris?" demanded a female voice in a grating Northern Outskirts accent. "Wot's all this skulking about in the middle o' the day?"

Marris wiped his face with his hands and coughed, his eyes tearing from the strong fumes that still lingered on his cheeks. He finally focused his eyes enough to see a young washing maid, her otherwise cherubic face scrunched into a scowl. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a crude ponytail, held in place by a piece of frayed, ratty string. Two emerald-green eyes were narrowed on Marris.

"By all the hells, Bessa!" Marris rasped, pausing to cough once more. He wiped his nose. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yew deserve more'n I could ever give yew if yew went an' did wot I think yew jus' did!"

Marris stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He started to turn away. Bessa grasped his arm and spun him around with surprising force considering her smaller stature. "Bloody 'ellfire yew don't!"

"Bessa!" Marris hissed. "You're not supposed to use language like that while--"

"An' wot yew jus' did is all good an' roight?" She brandished her still sodden rag, splashing more dirty water on him. He staggered back as if it were acid. "Out wi' it, Marris. 'ow much?"

Marris frowned. "What?"

"'ow much were yew offered to go flappin' yer gums 'bout Lord Norlan's business?"

"You have no right to accuse me of that. And no basis."

"I've been 'ere longer'n yew. I know wot it means when one of us goes off in the middle o' the day wi' no orders from 'alno."

Marris let out a sharp breath through his nose, mostly from indignation but also to clear the rest of the dishwater from it. "And how do you know I didn't have orders from him?"

Bessa put her hands on her hips. "Orders? For yew? Hah! 'e spends most of 'is time not noticin' yew exist." She lowered her voice. "An' 'ere I thought yew wanted it that way."

Marris shifted his feet. "I don't know what--"

Bessa surged forward and stood on the balls of her feet, holding her face barely a hand-span from his. Her eyes seemed to flash in the light with each syllable, delivered in a harsh, breathy, whisper-shout. "Don't go playin' yer games wi' me. Maybe yew think yew got the men fooled, but I know yew don't ... well, play like they do. Yew know wot I mean."

Marris swallowed. "You're insane."

Bessa flinched, her eyes widening. "Wot?!"

"Just ... just what I said. I've availed myself of Norlan's slaves."

"No yew 'aven't!"

"Go ask the others. They've seen me go into the slave alcoves. Gods, I don't believe I'm justifying this with a washing maid!"

Bessa stepped back and swung her arm. Marris ducked, but the sodden rag still slapped the side of his head. Marris managed to grasp the end, intending to yank it out of her grip, but it slipped through his fingers. She hid it behind her as she stepped up to him again. "Don't yew go actin' all 'igh an' mighty wi' me! Yer no better'n me!"

"Fine, whatever, I withdraw the comment," Marris said in haste. He found a reasonably dry towel on a nearby hook and snatched it. "But what I said still stands. Anyone will tell you I've been using the slaves. Maybe not as often as the rest of them, but--"

"Yew may be visitin' them, but yew ain't been doin' nothin' wi' 'em."

"And how in the bloody hells would you know?"

"'cuz I asked 'em, that's why."

Marris was stunned into silence for a moment, and Bessa's lips curled into a smirk. When Marris recovered, his discomfort was forgotten for the moment. "You are not supposed to talk to the slaves!" Marris hissed. "Do you have any idea what kind of incredible breach of protocol that is? Do you know how much trouble you could get into if Halno found out?"

"Not as much trouble as yew would if 'e found out about yer, well, pref'rences."

Marris' face darkened. "So is that it? Is that what this is about? Are you going to hold that over me as well?"

"'ere now, I ain't the kind o' ..." Bessa trailed off. One eyebrow rose. "'ang about. Wot was that yew said? Yew said 'as well.'"

Marris took a step backwards towards the entrance, eyes darting as me muttered, "It was nothing."

"Stop wi' the games already, Marris," Bessa said, her voice losing some of its sharp edge. "Is that why yew did it? Someone 'oldin' that over yew?"

"What difference does it make now? You just said you were going to use it, too."

"I ain't said nothin' like that! Yew ever think jus' maybe I don't want t'see yew get in trouble?"

Marris stared. "What?"

Bessa rolled her eyes. "Gods 'elp me, some men are so blazin' daft. Yew think I care who yew prefer in bed? I jus' don't want t'see a good man get sacked. Huh, maybe yer pref'rences 'as somethin' to do wi' yew actually doin' yer job. Yew ain't so addled by the sight of all that bare girl flesh."

"The other men do their share," Marris said in a weak voice.

Bessa snorted. "I'd be surprised if any of 'em could find their own arse with both hands and a torch. Yew actually get somethin' done 'round 'ere. An' yew listen to the maids when we need somethin'. An' it was all fine and dandy fer awhile, when yew kept yer 'ead down and 'alno don't notice yew."

Marris had no immediate response. He had no idea that Bessa -- let alone any of the maids -- had thought that highly of him.

"So wot did yew do?" Bessa demanded.

Marris sighed. "Look, all he wanted was some information," Marris said in a rushed but lower voice. "And not even really sensitive information, either. But ... yes, it was for some platinum."

Bessa sighed and buried her face in her hands, the rag dangling between her fingers. "Daft, daft, daft ..." she muttered.

"You want to know why I did it? Because of exactly why you thought I should just keep my head down and remain a nonentity to Halno."

Bessa looked up and frowned. "Wot?"

"No matter how hard I try, or how careful I am, someone always finds out. When that happens, I need enough platinum to bribe them into silence so it doesn't get to my next employer. I mean, look how easily you found out."

Bessa averted her gaze for a moment. When it returned to him, her eyes were clouded with guilt. "I was tellin' the truth when I said I didn't want to 'old nothin' against yew."

"I know. But this man, my contact, he ... I don't know how he found out. Maybe he gave a bigger bribe to some former employer. So now I'm going to get no platinum from him, just the 'privilege' of being allowed to keep my secret."

Bessa let out a windy sigh. "Bloody stupid an' unfair is wot this is. The Lords talk out o' both sides o' their mouth."

"You shouldn't talk about them like--"

"To bloody hells with it! The Lords can go prancin' all they want in the same field, an' no one bats a soddin' eyelash!"

Marris winced at Bessa's crude language. "With slaves, Bessa. That's ... that's considered proper."

Bessa heard the flat tone to Marris' voice. "Yew don't believe that tripe. An' wot are the poor people like us s'posed to do? Where's our slaves to do the 'oity-toity 'proper' thing?"

Marris had no answer. Anything he might say would only inflame Bessa's indignation.

"So wot did this idiot want?"

"He just wanted information on the slave Amanda." At Bessa's puzzled look, he added, "The dark-haired one that Lord Norlan brought back from Oceanus."

Bessa nodded. "'adn't 'ad a chance to talk to 'er yet. Yeah, I've seen her. Pretty thing. Looks like she's act'lly got some brains."

Marris heard the hint of admiration in Bessa's voice. "I think she does."

Bessa paused. "So ... wot yew find out about 'er?"

"Not a lot. Just that she's supposed to be really good with her mouth."

Bessa rolled her eyes. "Can't 'magine any of 'em are shirkers in that area, considerin' that 'alno won't unseal 'em fer no man."

"She's supposed to be good at it with everyone."

Bessa's eyes widened. "Wot? Yew mean ... yew mean wi' ... wi' girls, too?"

"Why?"

"Huh? Why wot?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Bessa frowned. "I don't need a reason fer ever'thing I do. So are yew finished wi' this idiot now that you told 'im wot yew know?"

Marris was reticent to reveal all, but knew Bessa would keep at him until she found out. He summarized to her what Mandas had asked him to do.

"'e's up t' somethin', Marris!" Bessa said. "An' it can't be any good fer Lord Norlan!"

"That's not my concern. And it's not yours, either. No, Bessa, don't argue with me anymore, I've had enough for one day! Whatever machinations are going on between the two of them is not for us to worry about. I'm not doing anything that other servants haven't done on occasion."

"That don't make it roight," Bessa said as she transferred the rag from one hand to the other.

Marris snatched the rag, eliciting a gasp, and tossed it into one of the sinks. "Fine. Chastise me for that, then. Just don't do it with the bloody dish-washing rag."

Marris marched out of the chamber before Bessa could respond.

Norlan's servants were easy to please, almost too easy. They did much of the work, and Amanda needed only to furnish her tongue and an open mouth, and sometimes her hands with the occasional servant that did not mind fumbling with her shackles. With only the evenings to display her prowess, she worried that her skills would degrade. When she realized what a strange thought that was to have, it provided her a few moments of wry humor before she was forced to return to the monotonous quiet.

She wished a maid would visit her. Licking a pussy would at least be a change of pace and let her exercise skills that had fallen by the wayside. But the maids seemed to hate her on sight, all except the one that came to replace the furs in the sleeping niches twice a quarter moon, and even she did little but cast furtive glances at Amanda.

Amanda sighed and leaned against the back wall of the alcove. The cold stones sent a tiny shiver through her. She had hoped it would douse the slow, wet burn in her pussy. She had not been given as large a dose of the arousal drug that morning, but she had yet to unlearn the automatic response ingrained by her Oceanus training: to expect a sexual reward for pleasing others.

Each time she had a cock in her mouth, her pussy oozed and swelled in anticipation. Each time it was again disappointed, and her arousal retreated but left her at a slightly higher plateau than before. Perhaps that was an effect of the drug as well. She had no idea. Everything here was a cypher, a black box.

The brief encounters did little to relieve the endless quiet, as no one spoke to her. Retaining any sort of sense that she was more than a sex toy was growing more difficult. She never felt the ache of separation from her former life more than when she was confined to this little alcove for an afternoon.

She let out a slow breath and shuddered as the cold stone did nothing to quell her lust or ease her sense of loss.

She flinched when the drape was suddenly drawn back, and she found herself staring into the face of the servant she had seen earlier conferring with Halno.

The man paused, eyes flicking to the side, his head twitching as if intending to turn to look behind him. Instead, he tightened his jaw and stepped inside, yanking the drape shut in a small sparkle of magic from the reestablished privacy shield.

She opened her mouth to spout the standard mantra, but faltered under his intense scrutiny of her face. Amanda quelled a surge of panic that this was some sort of test. She forced the words from her mouth. "What is your pleasure, Master?"

"Are you undraughted, slave?" he asked.

Amanda hesitated. No one had asked her that question since she had arrived. Barely anyone had ever asked her any question. "Yes, Master ... your slave is undraughted," she replied, her voice quavering as she realized she had almost forgotten the protocol, her mouth ready to speak the forbidden pronoun before she had corrected it at the last moment. Then she worried she had broken yet another unspoken rule, that she was not supposed to discuss such matters.

"Is that common in Oceanus?"

"No, Master," Amanda replied, her voice tentative.

He nodded, and his lips curled into a tiny smile. Amanda tilted her head and gazed at him less in anxiety and more in curiosity. If this were a test, it was a strange one indeed.

His look of satisfaction was ephemeral, and his eyes darted about once more. His mouth opened as if to speak, but hung in frozen silence until he forced the words down from his head. "I suppose that is why you captured Lord Norlan's interest."

Was that what he had really wanted to say? Amanda thought not. It had the feel of temporizing. Yet it was not a direct question, so Amanda could offer nothing in response. She was not at all sure why Norlan had desired her. Sometimes she thought he acted like someone that had bought something because it was shiny and new, but discovered later that it was not quite what he had wanted after all.

"I suppose ... I suppose others will desire you as well," the man said. "If they don't already."

His eyes focused on her, expectant. Amanda could say nothing. After a few more moments of awkward silence, he uttered a tiny sigh, barely audible. Her curiosity now burned hotter than her sex.

"Did they teach you in Oceanus?" he asked.

Amanda answered with what she believed would be expected of her from anyone else, but already wondered before the first word was out of her mouth if this were not the case here. "Your slave was taught proper submission and skills in giving pleasure."

"I don't mean that."

Despite having intuited it herself, she was still stunned by his response.

"I mean in addition to that. Outside of sex. Did they teach you anything except being a slave?"

"I taught ... your slave taught herself!"

In their effort to correct her terrible mistake, the words had exploded from her mouth. The young man was shocked, but not in the way she would expect someone like Halno or Norlan to be.

Yet Amanda still silently begged him to say something to break the stark silence that followed, if only to put to rest the lingering fear that she was being evaluated. Instead, he insisted on making the experience more surreal by asking yet another question, one that actually built on what she had just said. "What did you teach yourself?"

"Mostly history, Master," Amanda replied. "Of Oceanus, that is."

He nodded, and was again expectant. He finally prompted her, "And nothing else?"

Amanda wanted to complain that she had had every intention of learning much more before the opportunity had been destroyed. "Some Healing, Master. Your slave worked for the Overlord's Healer."

He nodded again, his eyes eager.

"That's all, Master," Amanda said. She again quelled another urge to offer more. She wanted to boast of her years of learning back on Earth, an education that was not snatched away from her by a stupid potion.

"Oh," the man said. "Oh, yes, of course."

A fishing expedition, Amanda thought. That's what this is. I just don't know what he's trying to land.

Amanda dared to think that something bigger was going on that somehow involved her. But that was silly. Her Master had said as such. She was nothing special any more. She tried to remember some of what Vanlo had taught her. She had not thought about it since she had seen Oceanus vanish over the horizon. Much of it was too fuzzy for her to grasp now.

She wanted to resent him for making her think about something she would never have again, but it was hardly his fault. He was just a product of his culture. She had to stop the hate somewhere or it would be all she had left. She could not bring herself to hate even Norlan. He had not broken up the Manors; he had simply taken advantage of it.

Jollis occupied her thoughts for a moment, and now it was harder not to resent this man.

"You are going to be made available for the upcoming High Feast," the man said. "Do you know what that means?"

"No, Master, not really."

"You'll be sequestered in an alcove similar to this and be available for the pleasure of Lord Norlan's guests."

Amanda had guessed that part.

"Forget whoever comes to you. Don't try to remember them or what you do for them. High-borns insist on total privacy in matters of the flesh."

Amanda nodded. "Yes, Master, your slave understands."

"They don't even come right out and say what they want. It's all done with little gestures to the servants and ..." The man trailed off. "You don't need to hear all that."

Amanda imagined this was true, but her attention was riveted nonetheless. She thought she had caught a faint tone of contempt to his voice, which shocked her more than his desire to talk to her had.

The man let out a windy sigh. "I have to take you back to your quarters now." He produced a key and unlocked the end of Amanda's chain from the hook on the wall. "Master Halno will give you relief later this evening. Lord Norlan is away on business until tomorrow."

Amanda nodded and hid her disappointment. This was not the first time that Norlan had been away in his capacity as an ambassador. Halno was indelicate, and did the least amount of perfunctory effort. Enough for her to climax, but hardly enough for her to actually enjoy it.

The man was about to part the curtain when he paused and turned to face her. "If you're ever asked about what happened here when I was will you, no matter who it is, you will tell them that you gave me oral pleasure. Is that clear?"

Amanda was nonplussed. He was ordering her to lie? Why did he not simply use her so that she would have no reason to lie?

He suddenly snapped her chain. It was inexpert and unenthusiastic, as was the supposedly admonishing tone to his voice. "Answer me, slave."

"Yes, your slave understands," Amanda said. "But your slave needs to know your name, Master."

"Marris," the man responded, and yanked the curtain back.

Sound exploded in her ears as servants prepared the evening meal. Despite Norlan's absence, he had several advisors that came and went, and the staff and slaves needed to eat as well. Amanda was hungry, but did not really anticipate meals anymore. Where nearly every meal in Oceanus for the past few seasons had been spent in the company of Sirinna, there was little to look forward to past basic nourishment.

As before, the female servants frowned at her in disapproval or pretended she did not exist. Even the washing maid that cleaned the furs of the sleeping niches, the one with the makeshift ponytail, now creased her otherwise pretty face into a scowl.

It took Amanda a few moments to realize that it was directed at Marris and not herself. When the washing maid's eyes did shift to Amanda, the maid's face softened, and her eyes shimmered. They flicked over Amanda's body once before the maid spun on a heel and stalked away.

"Come along," Marris said in a weak voice. He gave the chain a half-hearted tug before turning towards the archway leading out of the servants' wing. Amanda fell into step behind him, casting a confused glance first at the retreating washing maid's back, and then Marris.

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