[b]Piripiri![/b]

The priestess considers the trees on the riverbanks beyond, black shapes moving on a black sky, as if marching under the beating rain. An experience she’s had recently.

“I don’t think she understood— it’s different here,” she says. “You weren’t tied up or anything, right? That’s… it’s like you’re tied up in here.” She taps the side of her head. “But we can’t see that, so we, I mean, she’d just assume that you were angry about needing to give your blood. Because if you’re not tied up, you could just tell her no. Or slap her! It’s only when someone’s helpless that you need to take care of them and not threaten to cut their hands to steal their blood for demon worship!”

She shivers. Not unexpectedly; of course the daughter of a high-ranking goddess would be scared of demons. If she’d fallen into the General’s clutches, he would have condemned her to a terrible and prolonged fate imprisoned beneath the Wrack-waste.

“…I think even if she knew how you felt about it, everyone would have been in more trouble if she didn’t do that, right? Without you, her options were to lead us all deeper into that horrible city, or sit there and let us all get captured by that awful thing, or—“ She starts. A thought has suddenly struck her at high speed. “Or she could have just asked the [i]dragon[/i] who was carrying me.” She buries her face in her hands for a moment and groans, then steadies herself.

“…but I really don’t think she understood just how bad that was. I mean, she probably thought it was bad, but because you’d think she was the kind of witch who makes people her puppets with their blood and sacrifices more than oxen to the gods, and much worse things. I hope she’s not. She didn’t seem like it, but you can’t tell, can you? [i]Can[/i] you? I haven’t met very many witches at all, you see, and some of my tutors said they were just terrible, [i]wicked[/i] people who’d do anything for power, but others said they were just trying to mimic what [i]we[/i] could do all on our— that is, um—“

Her cheeks flush as she tries to find some way out of the conversational corner she’s backed herself into, and decides to dive out of the way by making a fool of herself. “But it’s all about the fact you weren’t tied up. Or chained up, I suppose, but I think the N’yari do it better with their ropes and their big thick cloths. Did you know that’s how we met? Not you and me, but me and Han. She saved me from a N’yari attack on our barge. Well, not [i]our[/i] barge, just the one we were traveling on. They grabbed me and tied ropes all [i]around[/i] me and stuffed my mouth full of, of—“ Her flush gets more prominent, until she can barely squeak out the word. But she does, and it’s pretty clear what she thought of the experience (and how much it thrilled her).

Which makes a lot of sense. It’s not hard to get a read on her. A sheltered scion, trapped in a gilded cage, who’s never had anyone dare to flirt with her, who craves submission and humiliation for how forbidden they are. If your orders weren’t to make sure she’s seen leaving, very publicly, you could take her by the wrist and offer to show her more, and she’d follow eagerly into the jaws of your trap, biting her lower lip and prancing after you.

“And then Han wrestled their leader,” she breathes, “and tossed her off the boat, and when they tossed [i]me[/i] off the boat she dived in after me to [i]save[/i] me. And then everyone was so [i]beastly[/i] to her and she ran off and I had to go ask her if she’d take me to the Two Hundred Gates temple, and she said [i]yes,[/i] and…!”

…and she’s head over heels for the highlander. If they somehow, impossibly, manage to have a future together, you’re fairly sure that it will involve the demigod bossing the flustered highlander around and telling her exactly how she wants to be kidnapped and safely, in private, embarrassed.

Consider also that she’d surrender immediately if you threatened the highlander.

***

[b]Giriel![/b]

“What a difficult position you put me in, you wicked little thing!” The Red Wolf reaches around, tugs, pinches. The chuckle in her throat is dizzying. “How am I supposed to punish you and thank you for your service? How could I possibly uphold my duty to the Immaculate Faith [i]and[/i] treat you as you deserve?”

The leather is snug where she pulls it around your neck. You heard it coming from the jingle of bells. She must have planned this from the moment she entered. The click of a padlock behind your head, a key twisting in the lock. You can feel the blood rushing through your body, hot and fast.

“I will have mercy on you, Lady Giriel,” she purrs. “I sentence you to the service of the Dominion until I judge you penitent, enlightened of your error and cognizant of your place in the world.” One finger taps a bell, sets it to chiming. “[i]My[/i] service.”

“Now,” she continues, fingers digging, probing, her hair spilling over your front as she leans in and lets her hot breath wash over your neck, your collarbone, the breath of a dragon who has added a queenly prize to her hoard, “for the matter of your [i]reward.[/i] You know, I’d meant to have an attendant here for us. Someone for us to share. But then you had to go and cut her hand open. And now she’s [i]busy.[/i] So who [i]ever[/i] will be able to thank you for your service? Name her, and she’s yours.”

There’s an obvious answer. An answer that makes a mess of who is owned and who serves. Maybe that’s part of the fun. But is it too obvious? Would she discipline you for being impudent? Is she trying to trap you in her games, just like she’s trapped you in her service? Is her weight on you, pushing you down towards your thighs, leaving your rear defenseless, all part of her teasing? Or is she craving to show you the chivalry of the Dominion, a lordly knight stooping to hold vigil between your thighs, her breath so [i]hot,[/i] feigning innocence as she makes your collar sing?

You had best make your choice, even if you can barely think through it, o lowly slave-girl.

***

[b]The Baths![/b]

“That does sound nice, though,” Emli sighs blissfully. And she actually means it. Her eyes are, for the first time tonight, shy. “Imagine not having to think at all. That’s one of the best things about the drills, you know. There’s a place you can slip into where there’s no [i]you[/i] doing any thinking at all, just the motions you’ve memorized. And you don’t have to do that with just plates and forks, either.” She turns her eyes up back to Han, and they [i]smoulder.[/i]

“There’s other ways I’ve been taught to find that place,” she adds, with a sly boldness, her hands drifting down to Han’s side. “Very fun ones.”

“But it doesn’t last,” she adds, and she pouts, breaking the spell of that moment. “I guess it’s because I’m not meant to be a scribe. I’d love it to, though. I could spend all day and all night in that place. No thoughts, just obedience. Everything is right or wrong, and doing what you’re told is right.” Her hand drifts back up to her elegant collar, which she touches with surprising reverence. “Thank you for the rebuke, honored one.”

***

[b]Kalaya![/b]

The Red Wolf sighs so sadly and shakes her head. “I am trying, your highness,” she says, and if she’s mocking you, she’s hiding it well. “But it’s quite possible I’ll just have to keep you here until such time as we’re able to confirm that the fairy has been completely defeated. [i]Operational security[/i] demands that any threat to my men be kept under lock and key, be kept from concealing contraband, so on, so forth. And I have to follow the rules, just like you do. Unless you can give me something I can depend on, some plan, some oath, some way to ensure that you won’t accidentally undermine the security not just of my household but the entire Flower Kingdoms, I’ll have to send you back to wait out the exorcists. And that might be some time.”

There it is, laid out simply: convince the Red Wolf you can be a good girl, or return to your cell. Submit, show you want to help, and get Dominion clothing, a cabin, bodyguards; be stubborn, and get a cramped cell in the brig, waiting naked in the dark. And if you get locked up again, well. It might take the Red Wolf a very long time to find the fairy.

What if she goes to ground? Hides and bides her time? What if you remain A Danger to the Dominion’s Operations for the rest of your life? The last Dominion representative used to threaten to send prisoners to Lamentation— what if the Red Wolf does that to you? Her reputation suggests she wouldn’t, but the threat of it is beneath the surface of your thoughts like a sandbar, ready to tear hulls open.

“Anything coming to mind, your highness?”