Amanda had thought that her mind would dwell upon the indignity of being caged in a small, silent alcove waiting to be used like a plastic sex toy. Instead, she had surprised herself with how accepting she had become of her new role. Initially, she had viewed it as a boon, a way to avoid insanity.

Now she wondered if the insanity would have been preferable; or a despairing semi-catatonic state that would leave her with little capacity to feel on her own; or a Draught-induced vapidness that would leave her dumb but happy.

Instead, her unoccupied and sane mind chose to plague her with fleeting cruelties. Left with nothing but the dim interior of her slave alcove to entertain it, it entertained itself with memories of the grass-covered Circle, of warm breezes and sunny skies, of a pussy pleased many times over.

Amanda's heart thumped. Her eyes burned as she forced her thoughts to focus on Halno. He was the true source of her misery. She had the satisfaction of learning through snippets of overheard conversation during her short trips through the corridors that he was despised by the serving staff as well, especially the maids.

She wished Marris would come to her again, if only to prod her for more personal information. Perhaps she could have dared to coax him into speaking his mind about Halno and confirm her theory.

She flinched, her chain rattling, as the curtain was suddenly yanked to one side; sound exploded into her tiny domain.

"... a competent job, or is that concept simply beyond your tiny minds to comprehend?" came Halno's irritated and haughty voice, his head turned towards two chambermaids who stood with their hands folded demurely before them. One shuffled her feet and trembled. "Master Norlan will be returning by evening meal, and the dining hall looks as if eastern barbarians held camp within it. I shudder to think what this place will look like come the High Feast tomorrow."

Amanda's eyes widened, her somber contemplation forgotten for the moment. The High Feast! It had barely been on her mind, but now she almost looked forward to it. If Norlan were in charge of it, he would allow Amanda her pleasure. He never left her clitoris numb as Halno did.

But above all, it was something different.

Halno stepped inside and unlocked the end of the chain from the hook on the wall. Behind him, one of the maids spoke in a tremulous voice. "We're sorry, Master Halno! We've been busy sweeping the corridors outside--"

"I do not want to hear excuses. Dwelling too long on one task is no excuse for shirking your responsibilities on another." Halno snapped the chain hard, and Amanda uttered a strangled gasp when the collar bit into her throat. She scrambled forward and out of the alcove, stumbling over the threshold and bumping into Halno. "Clumsy fool."

"Your slave is sorry for her foolishness, Master," said Amanda as her dutiful reply. The words meant nothing to her; she was too riveted on the conversation.

"W-We'll get right on it, Master Halno!" squeaked the other maid.

"I will inspect your work myself inside another candlemark. If it is not adequate, you can seek employment elsewhere."

"A candlemark?!" cried the first maid. "B-But we--"

"We will do as you say!" the other shouted over her companion. She nudged the first maid until the both of them were fleeing towards a side passage.

He's a misogynist, Amanda thought as Halno tugged her chain to force her into step behind him. He treats the male servants better than that.

She allowed herself a brief frown at Halno's back.

"Master Halno!" came a cry and running feet from behind her.

Amanda knew who it was from the voice and turned in anticipation as Marris approached. She almost ran into Halno again when he suddenly stopped and turned. "What is it now, Marris?"

Marris opened his mouth as he came to a stop, gave Amanda a puzzled look, then said what she believed was likely not his intended words. "You're bringing Amanda back now?"

Halno frowned. "Who?" After a nonplussed moment, he glanced at Amanda. "This, you mean?"

Amanda stiffened, and her eyes narrowed for a moment. The surge of hostility was welcome if inappropriate. She felt on an even keel again. By the time Halno could focus his attention on her and confirm her breech of protocol, her eyes were averted and she appeared properly uninterested again.

"You have an amazing capacity for stating the obvious," Halno said. "Master Norlan is returning this evening and wishes her prepared for his pleasure. Is this all you chose to waste my time with, or do you have something else which will continue to waste my time?"

Amanda's eyes darted to Marris. For a moment he seemed ready to cave in and slink away. She wanted to urge him to show some courage before Halno.

"I was curious to know if you had reviewed my petition to be assigned to manage the slaves on the night of the High Feast," said Marris.

"I have already told you, Marris, and I quite tire of repeating myself: you have the guest manifest."

"But that does not require any further effort, Master Halno. I have already confirmed and reconfirmed everyone who will be attending. Taking a final tally as they arrive can be done by the greeting servants."

Halno said nothing at first, his hand playing with Amanda's chain by giving it occasional light snaps. Each one tugged at her neck, and her eyes darted to him in annoyance despite her attempts to control herself.

"Of everyone on Lord Norlan's staff, I have the most experience in this area," Marris continued. "I can do the job most efficiently and will help you earn nothing but praise from--"

"All right, enough!" Halno declared. "If I give you this task, will you do it in peace and bother me no more?"

"Yes, indeed, Master Halno!" Marris cried.

Amanda stared at him. Despite the smile and the beaming face, his words rode on a faint sigh, as if in relief. Her gaze flicked down his body. He held himself less stiff and tense now.

"Fine, then. But if you have to come to me even once with some stupid question you could have answered yourself, or concerns something about which I do not care, you will be lucky if I allow you to clean a malfunctioning sanitary."

"Understood, Master Halno. Thank you!"

Marris glanced at Amanda. She had no time to avert her eyes and appear uninterested again before he fled. She stared at his retreating back until Halno tugged on her chain.

Amanda wanted to believe something odd and interesting was going on, and that she was somehow involved. She wanted to believe that Norlan did not have as much control over her life as he would like her to think. Perhaps he harped so much on how she was no longer "special" because she really was special in some way, and he wanted to keep her in the dark about it.

Amanda bit her lip. Perhaps she really was going insane if she could conjure such fantastic ideas.

She was led back to the slave quarters. Only when she saw the sunlight filtering through the milky glass did she realize how early in the day it was. Norlan typically serviced his slaves after the evening meal. Did he want her for something else before that? So much for not being special!

A washing maid was inside the chamber, scrubbing out one of the sleeping niches. Fresh furs lay in a neat, folded pile nearby. As Amanda and Halno approached, the maid glanced at her, then looked again and stared. Amanda recognized her. It was the young pony-tailed woman who had given Marris that angry glare.

The maid's eyes glistened and lingered over Amanda's body for a moment before she turned her attention back to her duty.

Halno removed the chain from Amanda's collar and pointed a slim finger at Amanda's sleeping niche. Amanda sat on the edge of the furs, her hands still shackled behind her. "You will wait, and you will be quiet. Another servant will be along to take you to be prepared."

"Yes, Master, your slave obeys," said Amanda. She burned to ask for what she was to be prepared. There was never this much fanfare with her usual visits to the pleasure chamber.

Halno left. Amanda turned her head and saw the maid watch Halno leave, a small frown creasing her otherwise pretty face. Her eyes flicked to Amanda again, wavered, and returned to her work.

Amanda allowed herself a tiny sigh through her nose. She twisted her wrists in a vain attempt to relieve the tightness of the stretched muscles of her arms. She thought she would be used to them by now. Her recent thoughts, however, had shattered what little accommodation she had accomplished. She was not sure yet whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

She glanced at the door as her mind played its cruel tricks once more. She could see herself standing at the edge of the Circle for her first training session with the other slaves as Sirinna removed her restraints. She trembled at the memory of her anxiety over appearing nude before so many, and how she had stressed over changing her views about sex to allow her to fit into this strange new world.

She longed for such trivial problems.

"I'm done."

Amanda flinched at the voice and almost slid off the niche. Her wide eyes fell upon the washing maid.

"Oh, ah, terr'bly soirry t' 'ave startled yew," said the maid, her lips curling into a weak, uncertain smile. "I 'ardly see any o' the slaves when I'm workin', wot wi' 'alno findin' something fer them t' do."

Amanda strained to understand the maid's accent. It sounds almost Cockney, she thought. But not quite. Another Earth parallel?

Narlass was, physically, a duplicate of Earth. The continents were in the exact same positions, as far as Amanda could recall her geography. What was different were the political borders. Yet there were still some odd parallels. Jollis' people, the Inonni, hailed from an area which covered Japan, Korea, and parts of China, and they shared some Asian characteristics. Urisi aristocrats bore an accent which sounded faintly British.

The maid paused and appeared to scrutinize Amanda's face. Amanda had the odd sense that this woman was actually expecting a response.

"Soirry if the other maids act like they want yew t' sod off," the maid said. "Nothin' personal. An' I don't treat wi' that! I'm not as daft as 'alf of 'em. Don't matter to me if someone wants to, ah, yew know, play the other side o' the fence."

Amanda thought she did understand and nodded once. Some more things were making sense to her now. Urisi society did appear to frown upon same-sex relationships, but she would have bet that it was okay to pursue them with slaves. That would explain why Marris had emphasized forgetting what she did and with whom she did it.

The maid uttered a quick sigh, looking flustered. "Look, I ... um ... ah, never mind, I got somewhere else t' be."

"What's your name?" Amanda suddenly asked as the maid turned away.

The maid spun back around, as surprised to hear it as Amanda was to say it. "Wot?"

Amanda paused and swallowed. "Never mind. This slave was out of line. Please ... please report this slave's bad behavior to--"

"Like bloody 'ellfire I will."

Amanda fell silent and simply stared.

Now the maid looked a bit nonplussed at her own words. She recovered quickly and drew herself straight. "Foine thing when decent people ain't even allowed t' say their own name. I'm Bessa."

"I'm ... no, I mean, this s-slave is--!"

"Amanda," Bessa said. "Ah ... Marris told me."

Amanda's panic was slow to ebb. For all she knew, this was a test of some sort, and any moment Halno or Norlan would burst in and accuse her of thinking she was "special" again.

Bessa leaned to one side and peered behind Amanda. "That 'alno's left yew in the irons? Yew think he'd let yew 'ave a li'l bit o' freedom 'fore 'e takes yew to do gods know wot."

Amanda wanted to respond, but she could only give Bessa a pained look.

Bessa waved a hand. "I know, luv. Yew can't say nothin' 'gainst no one. That's wot I'm 'ere for, to say the things yew can't."

To Bessa's obvious relief, Amanda smiled.

Bessa stepped forward and lowered her voice, glancing towards the door for a moment. "Yew know, I think Marris was roight 'bout yew. Yew don't look the same as the other girls. Yew look like yew got a brain."

Amanda's smile widened.

Bessa offered a tiny one in return, though the corners of her mouth twitched. She glanced again towards the door. "Ah ... Marris said something 'bout ... ah ... well, 'bout wot yew can do."

Amanda tilted her head. "Do?"

Bessa wrung her hands. "'bout ... 'bout yer, ah, skills."

Amanda looked confused. "He did? But we didn't do anything."

Bessa smirked. "Heh, yeah, I know that. But 'e found out from 'alno."

Amanda recalled the conversation she had heard between Halno and Marris. "Oh, yes, that," Amanda said in an uncertain voice.

"So, it's true, roight?"

"Yes, it's true."

Bessa bit her lower lip. "Ah ... so ... is it ... is it something yew like t' do?"

Amanda was too shocked to respond, not so much the question itself but the idea that anyone would actually care about what she wanted.

Bessa grew flustered and drew back. "Ah, never mind, I shouldn't o'--"

"No, it's okay!" Amanda cried, desperate not to end the first real conversation she had had since leaving Oceanus. "Yes, this slave ..." She trailed off and paused. She glanced at the door and lowered her voice. "Yes, I do enjoy it."

"Even with goils?"

Amanda gave Bessa a puzzled look. "Um, goils?"

"Yes, goils," Bessa said, her cheeks flushing pink.

"Oh, you mean ... Yes, I do enjoy it with girls, too."

One corner of Bessa's mouth rose. "Soirry 'bout the accent, luv."

Amanda smiled. "No, it's fine. I actually like it once I get used to it."

Bessa's mouth opened, her eyes widening. Suddenly her blush went from pink to red, and her lips fluttered as they tried to curve into a modest smile. "I don't think ... I don't think anyone's ever said somethin' like--"

Both women were startled when the latch on the door clicked. Bessa leapt back from Amanda as the door swung inside and let out a relieved sigh when it was not Halno who entered but another servant. Behind him trotted Larra.

The servant detached the chain from Larra's collar and spun his finger in a circle. Larra turned around and presented her back to him. The servant was about to insert the key into the lock of Larra's shackles when he frowned at Bessa. "What are you doing here?"

"Finishin' up cleanin' the slave quarters, wot's it look like I'm doin'?" Bessa snapped, though Amanda could hear the tiny quaver in her voice. "Yew daft or somethin'?"

The servant smirked. "Yeah, you gotta be Bessa." The shackles fell away from Larra's wrists and dangled from his fingers.

"And wot's that s'pposed to mean?"

Amanda had to repress a chuckle.

"It means you have a smart mouth but you know how to get things clean."

"Hmph. Well, at least they got one part o' that roight." She strolled back to the last niche she had cleaned and grabbed her bucket and rags. "Now, if yew'll excuse me. Some o' us gots real work t' do besides oglin' the girl flesh."

She thrust her nose into the air as she sauntered past the servant. Amanda coughed.

The servant watched her go, then chortled and left, shutting the door behind him with a bang.

Larra watched them go. By the time she had turned around, Amanda had masked any lingering amusement and presented a neutral face. "Still restrained?" she asked with a tiny smile.

"This slave is to be taken to be prepared for Master Norlan's return," said Amanda, betraying no more than duty in her voice.

"Ah."

From the way that one syllable was spoken, Amanda assumed there was indeed more to this than a normal sexual encounter. The corners of Larra's mouth twitched upward as Amanda looked at her in the foolish hope that she would reveal what she knew.

Larra strolled towards Amanda, her movements exuding a confidence that few slaves could -- or would -- show. Her hips swung not so much in a sensual glide of seduction as with the air of superiority that no one would be the wiser or give credence to any claims against her.

Larra sat down next to Amanda and stretched her legs. "So, did Bessa talk to you?"

"No."

Larra tilted her head. "Really? Not a word? Not a single word? Not even a simple greeting?"

"No, nothing," Amanda said in a curt voice.

"Really, it's okay if you did. Hardly your fault if she initiated it."

Amanda averted her eyes, lest Larra see what burned there. Amanda was not special, according to Norlan, but Larra apparently was, or at least believed she was to the point that it became reality for her. At least I never lorded it over the other slaves when Roquan thought I was special, Amanda thought.

Larra smiled. "Such a good slave you are."

Amanda's eyes snapped back to Larra. "Is there anything but being a good slave?"

Larra lay a hand on Amanda's thigh. Amanda's eyes flicked down to it, but she repressed any other reaction. "If you can ask that ..." She slid her hand up Amanda's thigh. Amanda resisted the urge to close her legs. "... then you may not know yet what it means to be a good slave."

Amanda swallowed as Larra slipped her hand around the inside of Amanda's thigh and trailed her fingers towards the sealed sex. "That doesn't make any sense," Amanda said in a quavering voice.

"It will make more sense after tonight." She rubbed a single finger slowly up and down Amanda's slit.

Amanda felt nothing of the touch save for a light pressure. Larra did not relent, and rubbed harder. Amanda felt only more pressure, yet it was enough to trigger the anticipation of sexual pleasure, and she uttered a husky but tense sigh. Larra was rewarded by a sheen of slick moisture oozing through the seal.

Larra lifted her hand, leaving Amanda's pussy swollen and wet with a longing for satisfaction that was not coming. "What happens tonight?" Amanda demanded.

The door was unlatched again, and Larra was swift to her feet. Amanda doubted she would have received a reply anyway. As another servant entered the chamber, Larra strolled away as if she had simply been passing by.

The servant's steps were brisk as he crossed the chamber towards Amanda, his shirt gleaming white between rigid collar and ruffled sleeves. His boots shone and clicked on the stones. He held a chain in his hands at the precise center, equal lengths dangling before him, just far enough away that they would not brush against his body and soil the absolute perfection of his attire.

"Lord Norlan entertains an important guest this evening," the servant said, allowing his eyes only a mere flicker towards Amanda as acknowledgement that someone else was in the room with him. "Act as you would towards your Master. Lord Norlan will be unforgiving of mistakes this evening."

The servant gestured with a snap of his hand and stepped back. Amanda rose to her feet, hesitating only a moment before drawing close enough for him to attach the chain, but long enough to draw a frown of reprove.

The servant whirled around on his heel and marched to the chamber door. The chain snapped taut, and the collar dug into the back of her neck. He did not stop or slow down, forcing her normal trot to a brief run to catch up as he led her out of the chamber and into the hallway.

Amanda finally matched his pace. It had helped jerk her thoughts back to reality. Norlan had told her nothing of this and would likely continue to tell her nothing. After all, she was "nothing special."

And yet I'm the one he picked and not Larra or anyone else.

Amanda clung to that thought like one might grasp a rope to stop falling.

Virgia Point had all but disappeared. Even during the great Founding War, the conflict that had concluded with the creation of Oceanus, it had been little more than a military footnote. Its forts had been abandoned before the war's end to bolster defenses at Selemas Keep, where the last great battle had been fought. A minor Lord kept court here once, but he had since moved on, and the forest began to reclaim what had once belonged to it. No one would find this place unless he knew where to look, and this suited Marlon just fine.

The courtyard of the old palace sat deep inside the ruins. Sunlight filtered through both mouldering crossbeams and young tree canopies. When they had first moved in about ten years before, Marlon and his fellow expatriates had cleared what debris they could, cast strengthening magic at what structure remained, and spelled boulders and fallen trees into curiosity wards to keep away whoever may accidentally stumble upon them.

It had served them well through the darker years of Q'ixanna's rule, when his vendetta against the expatriates had mutated into a bloody crusade, and then warped by a mad Emperor into undisguised genocide.

Yet not all expatriates knew of it. When it had become clear to Marlon and his fellow caretakers of Virgia Point that not all expatriates shared the same goals -- or cared for their brethren better than the Mages at the Guild -- they became very selective in whom they allowed to know of the location.

Passages from the courtyard that once led to the inner depths of the palace now instead led to sheltered clearings in the forest, which served as sleeping quarters. It worked to their advantage; having been so long on the run and living off the land, few wanted to return to the confines of indoor living. Magic flowed more easily out here than it ever had inside the thick stone of the Guild Hall.

Marlon stepped towards the center of the courtyard, his hands cradling an orb of Mage Glass, and approached a pedestal similar to one over which Katla and Q'land had contemplated the fleeting Portal energies. Unlike the orb in the Guild Hall, however, his was not a perfect sphere, nor was its interior as pristine and clear. No one would voice it, but the Guild Hall had one advantage over the expatriates: they had a working, well-maintained Mage Forge.

As Marlon placed the orb upon the depression atop the pedestal, several of his brethren looked on with curiosity. A haggard, raven-haired man with a scruffy, irregular beard clinging to his chin marched towards him. The man watched as Marlon waved his hand over the orb and images glowed within.

"Well, I had to see it to believe it," the man said in a scratchy voice.

"See what, Jothan?"

Jothan peered into the orb. He frowned as he discerned palm trees and waves crashing against a white beach. Several dark-robed Inonni warriors stood watch, fighting staffs at the ready, as they looked towards the sea. "What in hellfire am I looking at?"

"Quiet for a moment, please," Marlon said without turning his head. The images spun, swirled, and settled. Now they saw a narrow path, leading from a forest past a gate and into what looked like a village. Yet the men were not peasants, but the robed Inonni foreigners. Two Inonni warriors stood guard at the nearest hut, their staffs at their sides.

Jothan flinched and his eyes widened when he saw one of his own kind step into view from the right. A robed and hooded Cohort turned to him, and the two engaged in conversation that remained silent, as the orb conveyed no sound.

Another Inonni emerged from the guarded hut, the warriors crossing their staffs behind him as he passed. This man was different from the other Cohorts. He wore no hood, his age-lined face in full view, exuding a stoic calm. Wisps of gray or white hair fluttered in the breeze. He approached the expatriate and joined the conversation.

"Gods dammit," Jothan muttered. "Garranus, you bastard."

"Quiet."

"But, Marlon, you were talking to him about this whole mess only a quarter moon ago!"

"He doesn't know of this location, if that is what concerns you. Now be quiet."

Jothan threw up his hands, then stepped back and folded his arms, his lean body tensed like a coiled spring.

Marlon was forced to take a deep breath to regain his focus, and the scene swirled into chaos for a moment before reforming. Now they saw a small building encircled by equally spaced torches upon tall poles. Its double doors were open, and golden light spun and whirled inside.

Jothan's eyebrows knit together as he leaned forward and stared. Before he could understand what he was seeing, the images swirled out of coherence again and faded from sight.

Marlon sighed and straightened. "All right, Jothan, what do you want to yell at me about today?"

Jothan stepped forward. "I was told that you were going to do some spying for the Guildmaster, but I had trouble believing you would sell out to the Guild Hall."

"He asked for information on what the Inonni are doing with the old Overlord Portals," Marlon explained, his voice one of forced calm. "And to take readings of their energies. I can manage the former, but the latter isn't easy across these pearls."

"Do you realize what will happen if you get this information to the Guildmaster quickly?"

"He can use the information as he wants. He has the resources to follow up on it that we don't."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

Marlon uttered an exasperated sigh. "Humor me. Pretend I'm as ignorant as you seem to think I am."

Jothan thrust a finger towards the orb. "If you get this information to the Guildmaster that fast, he'll realize we've already figured out how to activate Farviewing pearls remotely. It won't be long before he discovers how we've been spying on the Guild Hall!"

Marlon's eyes burned. "I don't really care at this point. You can stand there and argue about something as petty as that when you just saw one of own collaborating with them?"

"Your problem is that you think we trust the Guild Hall better than we trust these foreigners."

"What do we lose if he discovers how we've been spying? It can't be very good spying, or it would've warned us about the change in Guildmasters."

"We knew something was up. That was more than we would've gleaned had we been completely blind and deaf to the inner workings of the Guild!"

"We needed that spying only to stay one step ahead of them in their crusade against us. We hardly need that anymore."

"So you say."

"So says the Emperor. Or did you forget that not only did he agree to lift the decree, but he declared he would refuse any requests to reinstate it?"

Jothan snorted. "And where did you get that? More wild claims by the Guildmaster?"

"I confirmed it from own contacts at the Imperial Palace."

Jothan's eyebrows rose. "I hadn't heard of this."

"Jothan, I am not claiming that we should trust the Guildmaster completely. But you can't deny that there is a real crisis here. I'm not about to reveal anything about where we are. And he has not asked." He thrust his hand towards the orb, his voice rising. "And you saw for yourself what's happening. We had assumed that the Inonni were capturing our fellow expatriates. The reality is far worse! Some of them are in league with the Inonni!"

Jothan's eyes flicked over to the growing audience of fellow expatriates around them. "So who in hellfire can we trust if not our own brethren? That's all we could ever count on. Now you're telling me we don't even have that?" He glanced at the orb. "And what was that last image before it faded out?"

"You should've recognized it, you worked on one yourself when you adjusted an Overlord Portal for that mad scheme to take the Imperial Palace," Marlon said in a sour voice.

"Don't dredge that up again. Just don't. I don't have to answer to you, and the platinum was too good to pass up. And your arguments then hardly hold water now."

Marlon gave his fellow expatriate a dark look, but he remained silent.

Marlon had argued that by helping Duric in his initial attempt to take the throne, he had helped foster the instability in Oceanus that eventually led to all-out civil war. As much as Z'haas had been despised among the expatriates, he had been a strong Emperor, and had the realm been more cohesive politically, they may have prevented the Inonni takeover.

Yet Q'ixanna would likely still be Guildmaster, and the expatriates still among the hunted.

"My point is, why am I seeing it?" said Jothan. "And why was it active?"

"I don't know yet. Take that as proof that there is some truth to the Guildmaster's words. He said there was some activity going on at the old D'ronstaq Manor."

Jothan frowned. "I get it now. You're going to tell him everything about what we can do with Farviewing pearls."

"I won't have to. This Guildmaster is incredibly intelligent. If Q'ixanna had had his brilliance, we would all be dead by now. He'll figure it out himself."

"And there goes what little influence we had over the Guild Hall."

"Look, if we continue to treat with a Guildmaster who not only allows us access to the Guild Hall but actively invites us, we could have more influence than we ever could by playing at espionage." Marlon hovered his hands over the orb and whispered an incantation. Light swirled inside once more.

Jothan fell silent and stared into the orb. No image would resolve itself.

"Damn," Marlon muttered through clenched teeth. He finally withdrew his hands and let out a sigh. "I can't get the proper sensitivity for the energy readings that we need."

"You need someone there to take a closer reading," said Jothan.

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Jothan stepped towards the orb, nudging Marlon aside. He waved his hands over the orb, and an image rippled into view. It was Garranus again, still speaking with two Cohorts. "Pretend to want to work with them."

Marlon frowned. "You're insane. Even if you can get them to believe you and manage to take those readings, you won't be able to get the information to us. They'll know if you're carrying a Farview pearl."

"Then I'll find a way to deliver the information by more unconventional means," Jothan said, impatience edging his voice.

"Wait. You?"

"I've been in the peasant village which was associated with the D'ronstaq Manor. I know my way around, and I know people there. And I'm a Portal sensitive, one of the best you have. You won't find anyone else who can take as good a reading as I can."

"It would take at least a quarter moon just to arrange passage for you to the island, then another half moon to get there."

Jothan shook his head. "One of my contacts has a Focusing Pearl. We can open a Portal to him."

Marlon sighed and wiped his face with his hand.

Jothan turned away from the orb and stepped towards his friend. "Come on, I'm the best one for this job."

"Yes, I know," Marlon said in a sour voice. "Amazing coincidence that you just happened along at the precise moment I was going to perform my observations of the D'ronstaq Manor."

Jothan raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you don't trust me, Marlon."

Marlon's gaze was drawn to some movement within the orb. He watched as a small sack bulging with coins was passed to Garranus.

"It appears that the platinum was too good to pass up for Garranus as well," said Marlon in a tight voice.

Jothan's eyes narrowed.

Marlon waved his hand over the orb, and it went dark. He scooped it off the pedestal and met Jothan's hard gaze with an unyielding one of his own. Yet his voice was more contrite when he said as he turned away, "I'll discuss it with the others."

"The time has come to get down to business, Lord Rallan," said Norlan as he placed his goblet down on the small table beside his chair. "The business of the fleet sitting at Port Heldon."

The somewhat foppish young man sitting upon the sofa opposite Norlan seemed not to hear. He tugged a sleeve of his shirt to clear his hand from the ruffles about the cuff so that it could hover over the pastries tray upon the nearby serving table. He plucked one with his slim fingers and leaned back in his seat before he raised his eyes to his host once more.

"Ah, yes, that. Terribly sticky situation, is it not?" said Lord Rallan of Southland. He popped the confection into his mouth and wiped his hand on a napkin before returning it to its previous activity. Next to him, Amanda tried her best to remain seated ramrod straight with her head held high and offer little reaction when Lord Rallan's hand once more kneaded her breast.

Amanda clamped both her mouth and legs shut. Heat flared between the latter, moisture leaking from an unsealed, swollen, and rising pussy. Her body was attired for the first time in several seasons, and she squirmed at the unnatural feeling of clothing touching her skin. She was dressed in a gleaming white gown, her hair piled and shaped into a coiffure of matching elegance. Long, white gloves covered her hands and forearms, and she held a fan.

But the trappings of high society were no more than a veneer. She wore no underwear, and her feet remained bare. Yet she was to act the part of this man's consort and act accordingly. And a consort in his circle acted nothing but ladylike no matter what happened.

Yet she had also been heavily dosed with the cherry-flavored elixir which made every erotic touch both a sensual delight and a torture. Through the evening meal it had been easier; Lord Rallan had restrained himself to occasional groping and lewd comments.

"With your help, we can make it a little less sticky," said Norlan.

Lord Rallan pinched Amanda's nipple, and it was all Amanda could do not to cry out in forced ecstasy. Her pussy flared and throbbed with her pounding heart, her breath heavy, her body trembling with the effort to show no further reaction. When she started to strain at the edge of orgasm, she snapped out the fan and waved it at her face as she had been instructed.

Rallan smirked at Norlan. "Me? A lowly Middle Lord? You flatter me, Lord Ambassador. I am not so sure I wish my family to align themselves just yet in this crisis."

"The help I require is not political."

Lord Rallan was surprised enough for his hand to fall away from Amanda's breast.

Amanda stopped fanning herself and let her hand fall into her lap. Her pussy retreated from the brink. She felt moisture oozing between her thighs and hoped she would not stain the seat cushion (for it would be decidedly unladylike to do so).

Amanda forced her eyes forward. She hated the position she had been placed in the room. Just off to the left of Norlan's seat was the mantel above the fireplace, where the Farviewing pearl sat in its Mage Glass prison. She could not be caught looking at it.

"Indeed?" said Rallan. He popped another pastry into his mouth and crossed his legs. "Do tell."

Amanda allowed herself a glance at Norlan. She saw a very faint flicker of disdain in his face when Rallan spoke with his mouth full. Norlan noticed her looking at him but appeared to ignore it as he said, "I wish to offer the men of the ships some small comforts while their fate is decided, and that would include slaves for their pleasure."

"And have you not offered your own?"

Amanda's eyes flicked again. Again Norlan looked at her. "Before we speak further, should we not have your, ah, consort leave the room?"

Rallan grinned. His hand returned to Amanda's breast, and his fingers stroked the nipple hard through the dress. Amanda gave an aborted gasp as her pussy soared, strained, and throbbed. Her hips jerked once, and her teeth clenched against the cry that fought to rise from her throat. "And be bereft of her charming company? Please, show your guest some manners, Lord Ambassador. I expected better of you."

"Of course, Lord Rallan, my apologies," Norlan said in a flat voice.

Amanda took a moment to waft down from her orgasmic high. Rallan had returned to simply fondling the flesh which allowed her to think a little more clearly, yet it still took another few moments for her to comprehend what was being said.

"I have indeed offered my own, but that is not enough," said Norlan. "I wish to entreat upon you to offer some of your own."

Rallan's hand stopped, which allowed Amanda to assimilate what she had just heard. "And what would be my incentive to offer my fine slaves to unrefined foreign sailors?"

"These are Oceanus men, my Lord. Somewhat more refined than your average sailors from other nations."

Amanda's eyes widened. Oceanus men? There was a whole fleet from Oceanus in a Urisi port? But why was that a big deal? From her historical readings back in Roquan's Manor, she had learned that Oceanus and the Urisi Nation were allies.

Rallan withdrew his hand. He grasped Amanda's arm and tugged her towards him. "Here, my pretty little consort, sit in my lap."

Amanda heard a small outtake of breath from Norlan. Amanda said nothing in reply but simply obeyed, sliding herself over his legs, as proper ladies never said anything unless asked a direct question. As she positioned herself, she felt part of her dress slide out from under her. When she sat down, he had bunched the back of her dress behind her, so that her bare bottom now rested against Rallan's legs. He prompted her to spread out the front of her gown such that it was draped over his knees.

Rallan slipped his hands around her waist and tugged her back. She again clamped her mouth shut when she felt the bulge in the crotch of his tights pressing against her pussy.

"I still feel many would be returned to me spoiled and worth less on the market," said Rallan, though his tone was still light.

Norlan swept his goblet into his hand. "I will make it worth your while, my Lord."

"Hmm, now we come down to it, do we not? What price do you feel is fair for the use of my slaves to satisfy sex-crazed sailors?

"I will offer you two thousand platinum."

"Hmm! I see."

"It will be for at most a quarter moon. By then some decision will be made concerning the disposition of the fleet."

Amanda felt Rallan's hand under her backside. Clothing slid over skin. He grasped her about the waist and nudged her into rising about two hand-spans, reached under her dress again, then bid her to lower herself.

Amanda shivered as the swollen head of his manhood eased past her labia and slid into her tight tunnel with a faint squish. Her behind settled against him again, his hard cock now nestled in her hot and wet folds. The dress remained draped over his legs, hiding their clandestine coupling. Amanda panted as the pressure of his shaft against her womanhood teased her pussy with furtive pleasure.

Amanda risked another look at Norlan. This time his face was carefully neutral, but even that told her something. It was obviously forced; he had likely guessed what Lord Rallan had done, and considering how high-borns were so concerned with privacy in sexual matters, Lord Rallan was pushing the limits of acceptable conduct.

She resisted squirming in his lap, despite how much she longed to feel his cock thrust back and forth inside her. She had not been allowed any real sexual release since Norlan had left on the diplomatic mission which she now knew involved a fleet of the Oceanus navy.

For just a moment, she entertained the wild notion that the fleet was here to demand that the Urisi return the former Oceanus slaves. She knew it to be a foolish notion, but she seemed to thrive on such false hopes.

"Perhaps if you offered me one of your slaves as payment as well," said Rallan. Amanda forgot herself and let out a gasp when his hands slid around her sides and cupped her breasts. "Perhaps this one. Though I suppose she needs a bit more discipline."

Amanda swallowed and held herself erect. She quivered as his fingers squeezed the supple flesh of her breasts, the thin material of her gown doing little to dampen his touch. The more she suppressed any audible reaction, the more she trembled. She could smell the musk of her own arousal and feel perspiration dotting her skin as her sexual heat rose.

"She is not for sale," Norlan said.

"Pity. Perhaps some other trinket of yours. You have such wonderful works of art right here in this room."

Norlan raised an eyebrow and turned his head. "Do you mean the items on the mantle?"

"Yes, indeed!"

"Ah. You have interesting tastes, my Lord."

Rallan smiled. "Yes, I have quite the eye for it."

Master Norlan was being sarcastic and it went totally over your head, Amanda thought. She suppressed a gasp as his fingers found her nipples again and lashed her pussy with irregular spikes of pleasure. Oh, gods, I wish he'd let me hump him!

"Very well," said Norlan. "What catches your eye, Lord Rallan?"

One of Rallan's hands left her breasts. A moment later, she felt it against the bare flesh of her thigh under the dress. It slipped between her legs, a fingertip finding her womanhood and rubbing her slick, sensitive flesh.

Cords stood out along Amanda's legs as she strained, then burst over the edge, her pussy throbbing hard around his manhood. Her breath came out as several staccato pants until she recovered her discipline. She remained seated straight despite her quivering. She discovered she was still clutching the fan when the clenched fingers of her right hand started to ache. She snapped it open and fanned herself.

"I was quite partial to that orb you have, there at the end," Rallan said. "The craftsmanship is superb. I have never seen Mage Glass so clear."

The fan faltered and nearly fell from Amanda's hand. Her eyes flicked first to the orb and then to Norlan. His face was a mask of stone, his feelings unreadable, yet his gaze was sharp and left her no doubt that he was scrutinizing her every reaction.

"Two thousand and the orb, my Lord?" said Norlan.

Amanda clenched her teeth. Rallan would not stop stroking her, his other hand still rubbing her nipple, her sex rising towards another climax.

"Yes, that would be about right," Rallan replied.

This is a test, Amanda thought in desperation. This has to be a test! I can't react to this!

But Amanda could not keep the silent plea from her eyes, one which said either spare the orb or sell her along with it. She felt ashamed at how much of a fool she had been to think that Norlan would care about keeping it for her. He was no different from any other slaveowner in the Urisi Nation.

Rallan finally spoke into the unbearable silence. "Or perhaps that little gold unicorn near the middle if you are too fond of the orb."

"Two thousand and the unicorn statuette," Norlan said. "That is agreeable, my Lord."

"Done!"

Amanda cried out as her pussy exploded into another orgasm.

Rallan uttered a windy sigh. He pulled her from his cock and rearranged his clothing before bidding her to leave his lap. "Perhaps all the better you did not sell me this one. She does need a bit of work."

"Indeed," Norlan said in a heavy voice.

Amanda did not dare look at him. She returned to her prim and proper seated position on the sofa, her breathing returning to normal. Yet she would not stop trembling.

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