repair it.”
He grinned at her. “Of course, my lady. You should have brought it to my attention sooner.”
“I would have,” she said, adopting a languid pose, “but there are so many calls upon my time.”
Aric summoned the guard and had her returned to her cell. An hour later two soldiers came to collect her. She was marched through the prison to a private wing and brought to a bathroom. In it was a bronze hip tub brimming with perfumed water. Two female prisoners were waiting beside it. The male guards ordered her to disrobe, and she removed the filthy dress she wore and stepped into the tub. One of the women poured warm water over her greasy red hair, then massaged sweet-smelling soap into it. The other woman began to scrub her skin. The feeling was exquisite, and Sly Red closed her eyes. Tension seeped from her muscles.
When the bath was completed and her hair dried, combed, and braided, she was dressed in a green gown of faded satin.
The larger of the two women leaned in to her. “Don’t get too used to this, dearie,” she whispered. “Not one of his girls lasts more than a week. He is easily bored.”
Sly Red lasted a year, and at eighteen was given a full pardon. Aric at first amused himself with her, then began teaching her the more esoteric secrets of noble behavior. The pardon was hard-earned, for Aric’s carnal desires were wide-ranging and sometimes painful. In return for the pardon Sly Red agreed to become a plaything for men Aric needed to impress, rivals he desired to exploit, and enemies he was determined to destroy. In the years that followed, Lalitia, as Sly Red became known, found men only too eager to surrender their secrets. It seemed that arousal loosened tongues and brains in equal measure. Bright and brilliant men became like children, anxious to please. Secrets long hidden spilled out as they sought to impress her with their cleverness. Stupid men!
In his own way Aric had been good to her, allowing her to keep the gifts her lovers bestowed. Within a few years Lalitia was close to wealthy. Aric even gave his blessing when she married the old merchant Kendar. He died within a year. Lalitia was overjoyed. Now she could have the life she had always desired. Kendar’s wealth should have been enough for two lifetimes, except that Kendar’s wealth had been bogus. He had died massively in debt, and once more Lalitia found herself surviving on her wits and her physical charms.
Her second husband had had the bad grace not to die despite being over seventy when she married him. That had necessitated drastic action. The thought of poisoning him occurred to her, but she dismissed it. He was a pleasant enough man, even kind. Instead Lalitia fed him a diet spiced with powerfully aphrodisiac herbs acquired at great cost. When he finally expired, the surgeon summoned to pronounce him dead could not fail to remark that he had never seen a happier corpse.
Lalitia was now truly rich and set about becoming poor with a speed that beggared belief. She began with a series of investments in merchant enterprises, all of which failed, then bought land she was convinced would multiply in value. It fell sharply. One day her dressmaker sent a message to say that no further clothes would be forthcoming unless all bills were paid. Lalitia was amazed to discover she had no funds to cover the debt.
She contacted Aric, who once more made use of her services.
Now, at thirty-five, she had funds, a fine house in Carlis, and a lover so rich that he could probably buy the whole of Kydor and not notice the difference.
Leaning back on the satin pillow, she gazed at the tall, powerfully built man standing by the window.
“Did I thank you for the diamond pendant, Gray Man?” she asked.
“I believe that you did,” he told her. “Quite eloquently. So tell me, why do you not wish to attend my banquet?”
“I have not been feeling well these last few days. It would be better for me to rest, I think.”
“You
He grinned at her. “Of course, my lady. You should have brought it to my attention sooner.”
“I would have,” she said, adopting a languid pose, “but there are so many calls upon my time.”
Aric summoned the guard and had her returned to her cell. An hour later two soldiers came to collect her. She was marched through the prison to a private wing and brought to a bathroom. In it was a bronze hip tub brimming with perfumed water. Two female prisoners were waiting beside it. The male guards ordered her to disrobe, and she removed the filthy dress she wore and stepped into the tub. One of the women poured warm water over her greasy red hair, then massaged sweet-smelling soap into it. The other woman began to scrub her skin. The feeling was exquisite, and Sly Red closed her eyes. Tension seeped from her muscles.
When the bath was completed and her hair dried, combed, and braided, she was dressed in a green gown of faded satin.
The larger of the two women leaned in to her. “Don’t get too used to this, dearie,” she whispered. “Not one of his girls lasts more than a week. He is easily bored.”
Sly Red lasted a year, and at eighteen was given a full pardon. Aric at first amused himself with her, then began teaching her the more esoteric secrets of noble behavior. The pardon was hard-earned, for Aric’s carnal desires were wide-ranging and sometimes painful. In return for the pardon Sly Red agreed to become a plaything for men Aric needed to impress, rivals he desired to exploit, and enemies he was determined to destroy. In the years that followed, Lalitia, as Sly Red became known, found men only too eager to surrender their secrets. It seemed that arousal loosened tongues and brains in equal measure. Bright and brilliant men became like children, anxious to please. Secrets long hidden spilled out as they sought to impress her with their cleverness. Stupid men!
In his own way Aric had been good to her, allowing her to keep the gifts her lovers bestowed. Within a few years Lalitia was close to wealthy. Aric even gave his blessing when she married the old merchant Kendar. He died within a year. Lalitia was overjoyed. Now she could have the life she had always desired. Kendar’s wealth should have been enough for two lifetimes, except that Kendar’s wealth had been bogus. He had died massively in debt, and once more Lalitia found herself surviving on her wits and her physical charms.
Her second husband had had the bad grace not to die despite being over seventy when she married him. That had necessitated drastic action. The thought of poisoning him occurred to her, but she dismissed it. He was a pleasant enough man, even kind. Instead Lalitia fed him a diet spiced with powerfully aphrodisiac herbs acquired at great cost. When he finally expired, the surgeon summoned to pronounce him dead could not fail to remark that he had never seen a happier corpse.
Lalitia was now truly rich and set about becoming poor with a speed that beggared belief. She began with a series of investments in merchant enterprises, all of which failed, then bought land she was convinced would multiply in value. It fell sharply. One day her dressmaker sent a message to say that no further clothes would be forthcoming unless all bills were paid. Lalitia was amazed to discover she had no funds to cover the debt.
She contacted Aric, who once more made use of her services.
Now, at thirty-five, she had funds, a fine house in Carlis, and a lover so rich that he could probably buy the whole of Kydor and not notice the difference.
Leaning back on the satin pillow, she gazed at the tall, powerfully built man standing by the window.
“Did I thank you for the diamond pendant, Gray Man?” she asked.
“I believe that you did,” he told her. “Quite eloquently. So tell me, why do you not wish to attend my banquet?”
“I have not been feeling well these last few days. It would be better for me to rest, I think.”
“You
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