Two weeks ter…

  "Do you think this design is viable?" Sara asked, sliding a paper across the table. The bcksmith across from her was a woman; Sara had been enjoying the novelty of equal representation in trades and sought women out before men. The smith scanned the paper with an experienced eye.

  "It'll need enchantments," she decred, tapping the hinge mechanism Sara had crudely drawn. "Sturdy ones, if you want it to stand up to the kind of abuse you're likely to be throwing at it."

  "I'm prepared to pay for that as well," Sara said, leaning on the counter to try and glean a glimpse of the back of the woman's shop. "Do you have any artificers in-house?"

  "No," the orc grunted, grinding her teeth. "It'll be damn expensive to have 'em commissioned. Rush order again, I assume?"

  "I'm sorry to say yes," Sara apologized, tugging down the deep v-neck of her shirt colr as if overwhelmed by heat in the cramped building. "We've been on the road for quite some time and will be again soon. How much will the work cost me?"

  The orcish woman huffed as she stared unabashedly down Sara's shirt. "For the Goddess of Passion's champion? I'm tempted to exchange service for service."

  Sara batted her eyelids, smiling demurely.

  "But I got a business to run here, Sara." A massive paw gripped Sara's chin, pulling her up into a straight posture, then lifting further, until her feet were dangling, and she was eye level with the 7-foot-tall orc. "If you're still interested after the work's done, I'll be here. Until then, it'll be five hundred gold for my work, and probably two thousand for the enchanting."

  Sara sighed through pinched cheeks, tapping the orc woman's massive bicep to signal that she could be dropped. She fell to the floor, unconcerned with the rough handling. They'd arrived in the southernmost city of Sporatos two days ago and had already grown well acquainted with Hurlish. Had the renowned bcksmith grabbed Sara like that on their first meeting, Evie likely would have taken her arm off at the elbow. Now familiarized with the orc woman's peculiar physicality, her feline companion stood silently by, fingers drumming against the jeweled rapier that they'd just collected. Hurlish's work was good.

  "How long until it's done?"

  "I'll shove all my usual work to my assistants for today and get the metal done by tomorrow morning. Reinforcement enchantments by themselves usually take a week or more, but that's because they're busy. You throw two thousand gold at them and they'll get on it a helluva lot quicker, though. I'd peg it at another day or two."

  Sara pouted. "Three days is an awfully long time to keep a dy waiting, Hurlish."

  Massive shoulders shrugged indifferently. "Cost of good work."

  Sara wiggled her eyebrows. "I wasn't talking about the sword."

  Hurlish huffed again, shaking her head. "Damned weirdest client I ever had. Three days I said, for the sword and anything else." She pointed a massive finger at Evie. "But make sure you bring her with you when you come back. Fine piece of work, that Feline."

  An idea sparked in Sara's mind. Before she could think better of it, she grabbed Evie's wrist and pulled her forward. She stepped behind Evie, presenting her like a showman giving a sales pitch. "She is, isn't she?" Sara's hand caressed Evie's cheek, running down her chin and ghosting over her colr. "Willing, obedient, and all mine." She hooked a finger in Evie's shirt and pulled it down, exposing the tops of her breasts. "I promise, you haven't lived until you've had her mewling underneath you, Hurlish."

  Hurlish pressed both her massive palms on the counter, leaning forward. "Show me her teeth," she whispered eagerly.

  Sara's hand drifted back up to Evie's face, light as a feather. She would have felt worse about what she was doing if Evie hadn't been shivering like a leaf, subtly grinding her ass up against Sara's crotch. She shoved a finger in Evie's mouth, ignoring the way her tongue eagerly wrapped around it, and lifted her lips to expose her inch-long fangs.

  "Gods damn me," Hurlish breathed, scraping a fingernail along her own tusks that jutted upward from her lower jaw. "And I thought I had a nice pair on me. Them fuckers are divine."

  Sara ughed, stepping away from Evie all at once. "Still three days on both counts, then?"

  Hurlish grunted, shaking her head and staring up at the ceiling. "Three days," she managed, spitting the words through clenched jaws. "Now get out my shop, you fucking succubi. I got shit to do."

  To everyone's surprise, Evie spoke up. "One st thing, Master Bcksmith."

  "Oh?" Hurlish said, looking back down in interest. Evie had been mostly quiet in their prior encounters.

  Instead of saying anything further, Evie grabbed Sara's hand and lifted it to her lips. She kissed the back of Sara's knuckles lovingly, then gently unfolded a thumb and took it in her mouth.

  In full view of the orc woman Evie positioned the digit beneath her canine, slowly but firmly pressing down, just hard enough to send the fang into the pad of Sara's thumb. Sara shivered as a drop of blood welled up, staining Evie's tongue. The catgirl sucked on the thumb as she pulled it back, a slight pop sounding as she dropped Sara's hands. Blood smeared her lips as she smiled at Hurlish.

  Sara's thumb throbbed, but she very much considered it a worthwhile investment to see a seven foot tall woman shuddering with desire, thick nails digging trenches on a wooden countertop.

  "Fuck both of you!" Hurlish shouted, spinning around and stomping into the back of her shop.

  "That's the pn!" Evie cat-called after her, smirking delightedly.

  Sara headed out of the storefront to the tune of Hurlish's frustrated shouting, ordering her staff not to disturb her office for 'at least' the next ten minutes.

  The early morning streets were fairly busy, hundreds of feet pattering between the various buildings of the shopping district. Most buildings here were a couple stories tall, some of the wealthiest towering up to three or four stories. Compared to most sections of the cities Sara had seen in this world, the shopping district of Hagos was sparklingly modern. There were breaks in the stonework for trees to provide shade, and a small median ran down the road for grass and flowers to grow.

  "I didn't expect that from you," Sara said to Evie.

  The catgirl looked about owlishly, affecting an impassive attitude despite her tail's zy caressing of Sara's hips. "Such things will happen when you encourage your sve's independence, Master. I only wished to help you fulfill your goals."

  Sara chuckled darkly. "Oh, is that all? No interest at all on your end for getting railed by the giant muscle woman that could toss you around like a sack of potatoes?"

  "Whatever gave you the impression I was interested in taller women, Master?" Evie blinked up at Sara, a full head shorter than her Master.

  "Call it a strong hunch."

  They kept walking down the scenic street, vaguely heading back to their rooms without much urgency.

  "So, Master," Evie asked, "How exactly are we going to get 2,500 gold in three days? Because the st time I counted our coins, we had a total of seven hundred between us. And that was before you purchased my rapier, which cost most of it."

  "Hell if I know. I'm sure I'll pull something out my ass." Sara stepped to the side to let a colred man pushing a wheelbarrow full of iron ingots pass her. The man nodded to her in appreciation. "You familiar with any of the noble types in this city?" She asked Evie.

  "Here in Hagos? Only a few, and I barely know them. They only made the trip to the capitol for major events, when mother and I had more important guests to tend to."

  "From what you can remember, were any of them particurly dickish?"

  "By your standards, Sara? All of them."

  "Hm." Sara turned around, finding the shirtless sve still trudging up the street. She jogged back up to the man. "Excuse me, sir?" Despite the fact that she was speaking right behind him, he kept walking. Sara tapped his shoulder. He turned around, surprised. "Sorry to bother you, but I have a few questions for you. You're familiar with the Holy One that appeared in Sporatos?"

  Haltingly, clearly disbelieving that someone of Sara and Evie's clear wealth would speak to him, he nodded.

  "That's me. I don't know who your master is, but they wouldn't piss me off by getting mad I deyed you. Can I ask you a few questions?"

  "Of course, My Lady," the man said. Sara silently thanked the kingdom's eborate system of message runners and town criers, who'd probably spread her description across the nd by now.

  "Who's your master?"

  "Lord and Lady Vesta, head of their house, noblest of the Hagos families," the man answered robotically. It was clearly the only way he was allowed to introduce them.

  "Aight, cool. These Vestas, do they treat you well?"

  "The Vestas are among the finest of the Hagos nobility, and their opulence and treatment of guests is renowned throughout the whole south of the kingdom."

  Sara groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. A practiced and rehearsed non-answer, one that didn't tell her a thing. "God, I forget how many commands you can y on a person when you don't give a shit about them. Alright, how about this one: what's your name?"

  "Thirty-Four, My Lady."

  Sara's blood boiled. "Okay, so they only gave you a number, not a name. That pretty much tells me how you're going to answer this next one, but I'll give it a shot anyway. If you were to have the chance to freely offer a compliment of the Vestas, in regard to how they treat their staff, that you have never given before or been instructed to say, would you?"

  The man's eyes, previously dark and suspicious, sparkled in amused delight. He remained utterly silent, going so far as to hold his breath. Sara guessed it wasn't often that he was able to express his honest sentiment of his master.

  "And if you were given the opportunity to, for example, argue against the statement that the Vestas are amoral monsters that treat their staff and sves as disposable tools, would you?"

  The silence stretched long, Thirty-Four's amusement growing.

  "Alright, thanks." Sara spped a handful of silver coins onto his cart. "Give your minders those to prove you were deyed by someone important. I appreciate it."

  "You are gracious, My Lady," Thirty-Four said, bowing his head and picking up his burden once more.

  Sara blew out a long breath as the ensved man continued on his way.

  "I take it we have our target, Master?"

  "Prolly. Gonna have to see how good their guards are first, make sure we can actually get in. But I broke into a lot of pces in the capital, so it shouldn't be too hard."

  "From what I heard in the month before my rescue, your thefts were not the most subtle of affairs, Master."

  "Okay, sure, but I'm not a thief, so you can't judge me too hard. And I never got caught, did I?"

  "No. But I think that is mainly because corpses make poor witnesses at trial."

  "Exactly," Sara fshed her companion a cocky grin, "My strategy is fwless."

  "We'll see about that."

  --------------------------------------

  "I will admit, Master, that I hadn't expected this."

  "How else were we supposed to get in?" Sara asked, dropping the extravagant bullhead doorknocker that adorned the front door of the Vesta Estate. The echoing boom still rang through the streets. Sara hadn't needed to ask for directions; that strange sense of guidance that she'd come to associate with Amarat's will had taken her through the streets.

  "I had assumed we would do so unseen," Evie said, stepping closer to fiddle with Sara's clothes. She'd put on the same lic dress that she'd met the King in, a tightly ced single-shoulder ballgown that hugged her hips and breasts before fring out to end halfway down her calves. It was, apparently, an absolutely scandalous attire, and the tailor that she'd commissioned it from had outright refused to add the side-slit she'd wanted. Sara loved it, and she loved the looks she got while wearing it even more.

  Evie smoothed some parts and fluffed up others before stepping back, resuming the image of a bodyguard following in their charge's footsteps.

  "That's a hell of a lot harder," Sara argued. "Maybe you could manage sneaking around, but I'm a big old oaf. And neither of us know how to pick locks."

  "I wasn't disagreeing, Master. Just trying to appraise myself of your intentions so I may better pn my own actions."

  "Good luck. I made all this shit up ten minutes ago." She tapped her foot, waiting impatiently. "What do you think's taking them so long?"

  "I imagine it took the staff a moment to recognize you, and when they did it sent them into a panic. Once word is carried to the head of the house and a decision is made they'll-" Evie stopped and cocked an ear forward, listening through the door. "Ah, here we go."

  The doors swung open, a sharply dressed butler stepping forward with natural poise.

  "Lady Sara, Champion of Amarat! Lady Vesta bids you a gracious welcome. Please, please, come in!"

  Sara stepped through the threshold, entering a mansion that took up most of a city block. The entry hall was as fancy as she'd expected, with plush carpets, artful statues, and a winding mahogany staircase that led to the second and third floors. The butler led her to a set of lounge chairs where a servant was setting out a tea tray, another silently sliding the furniture away so Evie had a pce beside her seat to stand guard.

  "Lady Vesta," the butler narrated, "having not prepared for such a distinguished guest, will be ready to receive you in a few scant minutes. In the meantime, please enjoy our finest refreshments."

  Sara sat down as the butler began a long-winded speech about the tea's particur eccentricities, uding its quality like Sara had only heard people talk about wines back on Earth. When his expnation was complete and Sara had taken an appraising sip of the beverage, which tasted fairly mundane, the butler bowed low.

  "And may I, if it is not a bother to your holy person, have the pleasure of carrying word to Lady Vesta regarding the purpose of your visit?"

  Finally. It had seemed like the man would never get around to the actual reason why he was hovering around her.

  "You may tell her that my Quest has taken me progressively further south, and so I seek her counsel on the state of the southern regions and the standing of nobility therein. I was also hoping that she or a member of her staff was familiar with the abandoned regions beyond the border, as I've begun to suspect my investigations will not conclude within Sporatos's realm."

  The butler's professional demeanor was unshakeable, professional apathy all that could be seen, but Sara knew he was probably bursting with excitement. To have gathered such valuable information for his employer in such a brief time was exceptional and would help offset any disadvantage in the coming negotiations that Sara's unexpected arrival had incurred.

  She also didn't give much of a shit, because this entire thing was a farce. Sure, she'd fleece 'Lady' Vesta for whatever information she could, but the real reason for this visit was hanging off Evie's hip. There was their bag of holding, now emptied, begging to be filled with the expensive yet meaningless trinkets nobility scattered about their homes.

  In fact, Sara realized, most everything before her was very finely made. She picked up a crystal decanter that was on the coffee table, holding it to the dangling candebra to inspect its craftsmanship. Candlelight broke into rainbows that glittered across her face, the effect too precise to be anything less than intentional.

  Sara reached over and tossed it in the bag of holding. Evie kept her passive watch beside her, arms folded behind her back in a soldier's rexed stance. Lady Vesta may think it odd that Sara had given her sve a fine sword and rich clothing, but Sara was the otherworldly 'holy one'. She was allowed some eccentricity.

  "You think she'd just straight up give us a loan?" Sara whispered to Evie, mindful of the servants that hovered at the edge of the room.

  "An interesting time for a change of tactics, Master," Evie noted dryly.

  "It'd be easier, wouldn't it?"

  "It would," Evie agreed, "but you wouldn't find it nearly as satisfying. It seemed to me half your purpose here was to delight in robbing a woman blind while she thought she was getting the better of you."

  "Ah, but imagine how slick it would be if she paid us for the pleasure of being robbed?"

  Evie smirked, just subtle enough that only Sara would note it. "A fair point, Master."

  Evie's ears flicked towards the door, alerting Sara to the arrival of the butler, just before the doors swept open.

  "Lady Vesta suggests her personal library for the meeting, if it pleases you. She has also summoned one of her son's old tutors, a prestigious professor of the Hagos Academy, to answer any of your questions."

  "Sounds good to me," Sara said, standing. She began following the butler through another set of gilded doors and up several flights of stairs, Evie following silently.

  Eventually they found themselves before a humbler door, near the end of a long hallway. The butler rapped on the door twice before pulling on the handle, sweeping it open so Sara could enter first.

  "Lady Sara, Champion of Amarat," the butler called out, speaking in the oratory tones of someone introducing the test guest at a fine ball.

  The room Sara stepped into was anything but. The stuffy air of a library filled her mind with images of old paper and aging wax seals, which was exactly what now surrounded her. Tightly pressed bookshelves reached the ceiling, wooden rolling dders folded into little cubbies to allow access to the highest texts. Her every step creaked on the antique floorboards, particurly loud considering the thick leather travel boots that she preferred. Thankfully, considering her far more delicate task, Evie's footsteps fell silently in Sara's shadow.

  ------------------------------

  Evie

  -------------------------------

  Evie evaluated the room as her Master entered, quickly taking in their surroundings before focusing on the woman that they'd come to pary with.

  A pair of small and decidedly out of pce velvet chairs were in the center of the room, a nearby table having been shoved hastily to the side for the purpose. Sitting in one of the chairs with a delicate posture was a woman nearing middle-age, early signs of wrinkles beginning to form in the frown lines of her face. Her green dress was well made, if common in style, something that led Evie to believe she hadn't changed for the meeting. Her general countenance was atypical for those of the nobility, with vivid red hair that fell past her ears in smooth waves, complimenting her pale and freckled cheekbones. Her breasts were a slight bit smaller than Master's, emphasized and brought to the forefront by a corset. An attractive woman, one that Evie could vaguely remember greeting at important balls. Clearly Lady Vesta didn't recognize her now, seeing only a sve colr, which was fine by Evie. Her dress was covered in lines of complex embroidery that shimmered as she turned to greet Master.

  "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Sara. I'm delighted to see you wearing the dress that you greeted the king with; I'd begun to worry I overdressed for the occasion."

  A genuine statement, or half-hidden jab at Sara's poor wardrobe variety? Most likely the former, considering it was her opening statement to a prospective ally, but poorly chosen, if so. It wouldn't do to accidentally cause offense so early into a meeting.

  But Evie also knew that her Master would neither notice nor care about the comment, be it compliment or insult. She demonstrated just that by the brusque way she clomped over to the chair opposite Lady Vesta.

  "I'm shocked word of my dress reached Hagos before me, but I guess I shouldn't be. Something like this is fairly formal for where I'm from, but it had everyone staring from the second I showed up."

  "Oh, I assure you, it was quite the topic of conversation..."

  Evie tuned out as Lady Vesta began the usual small talk that preceded any noble meeting, that which maintained the facade that their getting together was anything other than a business transaction. As a child Evie had actually envied the merchants for their heated debates and furious bargaining, wishing that she could state her own goals so pinly in the practice debates with her tutors.

  She scanned the library for valuables to pass the time, checking to see if any of them were close enough to swipe off a shelf. None were, not when she was in pin sight of the Lady.

  Neither Lady Vesta nor her manservant had insisted Sara be disarmed, which meant the peculiar longsword was still dangling from her Master's hip. Evie ran an eye over Lady Vesta, taking some small amusement in the fact that the nattering woman had no idea how near to death she was at the moment. Her Master had a nigh inscrutable code of ethics, but she held to it dearly. Hopefully the self-absorbed noble wouldn't stray far enough over the line to earn her Master's bde. There would be no convenient lie to be made should they kill a powerful noble in her own home.

  "But shall we get down to business?" Lady Vesta finally said, causing Evie to tune back into the discussion. "I understand that you have come to me for advice on the kingdom's southernmost regions."

  "I have indeed. Do you mind if we get some privacy first, though?" Sara gestured to Evie and the bodyguard, then flicked a finger to the door.

  "Of course, of course. I imagine the Champion of Amarat has many things she would not speak of amongst untrusted ears."

  Without further prompting Evie and Lady Vesta's bodyguard headed for the door, leaving their respective Masters to their conversation.

  Evie went through the door first, allowing the bulky armored man to shut it behind her. Through his slitted helmet the guard looked discomforted by leaving his charge alone in a room with a stranger, but obviously not enough to risk protesting. They were on the third floor after all, and the Champion of Amarat wouldn't dare harm a member of the nobility.

  In his mind, at least.

  Evie immediately began stalking down the hallway, not even pretending to take a post outside the door. To her surprise, however, the guard called after her, whispering loudly so as not to be heard through the door.

  "Where are you going? We will stand guard, as instructed."

  Evie pced a hand on her hip and turned around, staring the man down with practiced boredom. "Where do you think I'm going?" She tapped the colr that was prominent around her neck. "I'm on a task for my Master. She only brought me for the presentation, not her protection. I have other things to be doing."

  The guard's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "The Champion of Amarat is unguarded, mere weeks after an assassination attempt?"

  Evie rolled her eyes like the man was weak in the mind, though privately she commended his prescient concern. "If you think the Champion of Amarat is ever 'undefended' then I welcome you to challenge her to a duel. I hope for your sake that you take my word before resorting to such drastic measures, however, as even blunted weapons leave bruises." And, she thought, because her skills are far wider than they are deep.

  The man settled down, no longer interested in Evie's whereabouts. It was one of the more common benefits of Evie's entanglement with her Master: any who trusted the Champion of Amarat must by extension trust Evie. A sve couldn't disobey their Master.

  As Evie glided down the staircase, waiting until she was out of sight of the guard before wandering off, she reflected on how little the wider kingdom knew of their so-called Champion. When most rarely traveled beyond their vilge, it was difficult indeed to comprehend the changes an upbringing in another world could cause. Master was like no one Evie had ever known, and all the more compelling for it.

  The second floor of the mansion seemed to follow the same pattern as the one she'd grown up in. Anywhere requiring stairs to reach was less desirable, and therefore given to the less desirable guests. Opulent bed chambers likely waited down below, but here there were a series of simpler rooms and withdrawing quarters, more suited for the friend-of-a-friend than hosting a political dignitary. Most of the staff would be housed on the uppermost floors, closet-sized quarters lining the dimly lit corridors that were never seen by people of Lady Vesta's stature.

  And so, as Evie walked down the empty hallway, she found herself with free reign of the mansion. Without concern she began pilfering choice items from the hall and attached rooms, careful never to take more than one or two items in an area. Her Master didn't much care if she were bmed for the thefts ter, but getting caught in the act was far from desirable.

  Into the sack of holding fell crystal gsses, light-enchanted gems, silver candle holders, golden filigreed books, and even a few pieces of spare change that she found lying about. The few weeks of travel that Evie had spent alongside her Master had given her a new perspective on the absurd wealth that had surrounded her in her youth, more so than any bawdry church event she'd been obliged to attend in the name of 'charity'. In a strange way, Evie was gd that she'd known poverty before committing her first robbery: it made it all the more gratifying.

  What was even funnier, she reflected, is how much poorer Lord and Lady Vesta were than her mother. In Evie's old life she'd have assumed that the rooms she freely traipsed through were more fit for visitor's high-ranking servants than the visitors themselves, but the ck of any finer accommodations on the floor implied that they were actually meant to be used by guests.

  Evie picked up a bottle of wine that had been left on a nightstand, inspecting its vintage. Barely fifteen years old. Laughable to her, and yet worth a week of wages for a small vilge.

  She dropped the wine in the bag and made to exit the room, pausing when the seed of something warm blossomed in her core.

  It seemed Master had changed tactics.

  -------------------------------------

  Sara

  -------------------------------------

  "Would you prefer tea, or wine?" Lady Vesta asked as their guards left the room.

  "Wine, please."

  Lady Vesta obligingly picked up a bottle from the table and began pouring it herself, seeming unbothered by the ck of servants to perform the task for her. It was a point in her favor, in Sara's book, but not one that came close to tipping the scales.

  Accepting the offered gss, Sara asked, "Hagos is the st of the major cities before the southern border, I'm told. Did this region suffer any of the same storms that pgued the cities further south?"

  Sara took a sip of the wine as Lady Vesta answered. "Quite the opposite, in fact. By the time the typhoons had crawled across the nd to Hagos they'd weakened to lightning and rain storms, doing much to water our crops and fill our reservoirs. I've often said that it is proof of the gods' favor for Sporatos that we benefited so neatly from the same events that devastated others, but I'm reluctant to draw such daring conclusions in the company of one who could so easily correct me."

  "Oh, don't worry about that," Sara assured her, running a finger over the rim of her wine gss. "Amarat and I aren't exactly on speaking terms. The most I receive from her is a tug in one direction or another, perhaps a fring of the emotions at certain times. To be honest, it's hard to distinguish between my own impulses and divine guidance."

  "Such is often said by religious figures, cims I doubted. To hear it from you makes me wonder if the connections they cim to the gods are more concrete than I'd assumed. And now these subtle guidings have led you to Hagos? I find myself both worried and excited to find what has drawn the Goddess' eye here."

  Sara shrugged. "So am I. Besides an excellent bcksmith that I'm commissioning several pieces from, I haven't found much heavenly purpose in the city. I was hoping that you might have any ideas for what might be lurking beneath."

  Lady Vesta took a prolonged sip from her winegss, to give herself time to think of an answer. Sara waited for the response patiently. This was, after all, a sort of test for the woman. Sara knew she had no particur martial talents befitting a "champion of the gods", seeing as her skills y solely in the realm of discussion, but most others assumed otherwise. It would be interesting to see who or what Lady Vesta thought she could steer her against.

  The noblewoman set her gss down with a dainty clink, folding her hands in her p. "I apologize to say that I have as little an idea as you, Lady Sara. While Hagos struggles with the same difficulties of any rge city, be it smugglers, thieves, or discontent, none are so egregious as to warrant divine intervention. I can only assume your goddess will indeed be steering you farther south, unless my informants have been woefully incompetent in keeping me appraised of the city's wellbeing."

  Sara sat back, absorbing that. It certainly hadn't been what she expected. Every noble she'd met in the capital or beyond had seen her like an unattended sword, just waiting to be swung at their foes. From her comfort in being without servants to the straightforward admission that she needed no aid, Lady Vesta was quickly proving herself one of the more tolerable nobles Sara had met.

  Let's stress test that, Sara decided.

  "What do you think of svery?"

  Lady Vesta, who'd been flicking something off her dress, froze. "My Lady...?"

  "Svery. Y'know, the magical colrs that steal people's free will and ruin their life forever? That and all the more mundane borers who are paid next to nothing and will be hunted like dogs if they try and move somewhere else. What kinda vibe does that give you?"

  Lady Vesta, taken aback, sputtered. "I- Well, I don't know. It seems an awful thing to experience, but such is the way of the world. Death, dismemberment, svery. They're all the consequences of either war, poor luck, or poor choices. Why do you ask?"

  Sara hummed to herself, recalling Thirty-Four's words. She was beginning to feel a certain warmth in her chest, encouraging her along the path of inquiry. "Who controls your house's sves? Your husband?"

  "Yes, almost entirely. I must say, Lady Sara, this is a strange topic of conversation-"

  Sara tossed her boots up on the coffee table, a sudden confidence burgeoning as she stared at something above Lady Vesta's head.

  A glowing blue box, one straight out of a video game. It was the first one that she'd seen since she'd first met her patron goddess, and she was gd to see it.

  ~New Ability: Amarat's Intuition~

  Compatible targets may have helpful information revealed to the user.

  "Lady Vesta is a woman who views men with disinterest, her husband most of all. Now with heirs secured and a fortune in her own name, her use for the cruel and bumbling fool dwindles by the day."

  ~New Ability: Gift of Lust~

  Should a target be willing, either consciously or subconsciously, the Champion of Amarat may infme their passions. This lust can only be satiated by the Champion, something that the target is innately, but not consciously, aware of.

  Uncrossing her legs, acutely aware of what her dress was revealing to Lady Vesta, Sara activated Gift of Lust. Though there was no visual cue, the gentle noblewoman took a sudden breath, licking her lips. She took another breath, deeper, and shook her head slightly.

  "I'm sorry. What was I saying?"

  "We were talking about your husband. I hear he's not good for much these days."

  Lady Vesta, cheeks beginning to flush, took a deeper sip of her wine. "You may have heard right, Lady Sara. It's useful to have someone to delegate tasks to, but the man's talent for negotiations was never anything to write home about."

  "Have you considered ending your marriage to him, then?" Sara twisted in her chair to look about the library, taking her time as she did so. Amarat's blessings had never given her a third sense in the heat of battle, but it certainly kept her appraised of Lady Vesta's eyes crawling lecherously over Sara's body.

  "Practically every time I have a moment like this one, these days," Lady Vesta said, then held a hand to her mouth and giggled. "I apologize. I shouldn't be saying such things among new friends."

  Sara finished her surveilling of the room, looking Vesta in the eye. "Friends? I'm pleased to hear that, but we've barely spoken."

  Lady Vesta's blush deepened. "You're right, of course. Perhaps I should have chosen a weaker vintage for this occasion. I'm feeling all out of sorts. Would you mind if I opened a window?"

  "Of course not," Sara said. Lady Vesta thanked her with a smile and stood, gathering her dress about her as she strode over to one of the windows between the bookshelves.

  Sara followed behind, quietly as she could. Her boots weren't silent, but Lady Vesta was… distracted, to say the least. As they reached the window and Lady Vesta reached both hands to slide it up, Sara leaned in.

  "An impressive view," she breathed into Lady Vesta's ear. She reached an arm around the noblewoman, as if to support herself against the wall while leaning over her shoulder. "So many people strolling by."

  Lady Vesta shivered, window forgotten. "It's... nothing compared to some views in the manor. I'll have to show you them."

  Sara put her other hand up against the wall, pinning the noblewoman in pce. "And yet I'm only interested in one."

  Lady Vesta bowed her head, panting heavily enough to fog the gss. "I knew I was meeting with Amarat's Champion, and yet I find myself still caught off guard, Lady Sara."

  Sara slid her hands across the window frame, coaxing Vesta's body to arch against the curve of her body. Sara could feel the tension building across the woman like a bowstring drawn too tight.

  "Tell me, my dy. A powerful woman like you, trapped in a loveless marriage. How many beautiful servant women have you led astray?"

  "Countless," she breathed immediately. "So many of them, with fine figures and their simple bodices, by the gods..."

  Sara's hands began wandering upward, whispering against the silk of Lady Vesta's dress. She touched nowhere exciting, not yet, but the way the merchant lord arched against her fingers was intoxicating.

  "How did you do it?" She whispered, quickly switching to Lady Vesta's other ear. "Did you take them to your office, alone, for 'discipline'? Or did you find them while wandering the halls on a dark night, wearing less than you ever should?"

  Lady Vesta tilted her ear towards Sara's voice, straining to drink in the gentle caress of her breath. "I'd let them catch me undressing. Call them in too early, or too te, right as I step out of the bath or shuck off my robe." She reached up to the window curtains, slowly drawing them closed. Sara listened intently as the room darkened. "I'd watch their faces, their gaze, looking for that moment where the eyes lingered too long."

  Sara drew circles with her fingernails on Lady Vesta's stomach, drawing lower at times, then darting back up, or trailing ever closer to her chest, but never quite reaching where she knew Vesta wanted her.

  "I'd pay no mind to it, ugh it off at the time, but ter..." Lady Vesta gasped as Sara's hand drifted lower, then began to squirm as it nded on her thigh instead of somewhere warmer. "Later I'd call them into my office, as you said. A low-cut dress, the lightest dashes of makeup. As far as I could go without revealing more of my intentions by sight alone. I'd have them sit while I stood, walking circles around them..."

  Lady Vesta breathed sharply as Sara pushed down on her shoulders, bringing her to her knees. Still not looking at her, speaking to the wall beneath the window, Lady Vesta continued in a dry whisper.

  "Every time I'd circle behind them, my dress would slip. First the neckline, then a shoulder strap, finally my hair tie..."

  Sara ran a hand through Vesta’s soft hair, finding the tie that kept it in a bun. With a well-practiced twist she snapped it, letting the messy shoulder-length scarlet curls cascade down.

  Stuttering, barely composed, Vesta continued. "A-and finally, when their little eyes were wider than saucers, I'd stand before them, looking down..." Another shudder, and then her head tilted up, stretching until she was looking at Sara from below. "But my Lady. That is not what I wish from this moment. Today I wish to know what you would do to me."

  Sara cupped her chin with one hand, massaging her scalp with the other. "Then kneel for me, Lady Vesta, and I will show you what I want."

  The powerful noblewoman spun about with girlish eagerness, tucking her knees beneath herself and forcing her fidgeting hands into her p with great effort.

  Sara took a step back, admiring the sight. Lady Vesta's chest was heaving, her eyes dark and lustful. Her lips were ever so slightly split, ruby lipstick wetted as she licked it.

  Sara took a step forward to stand split-legged over Vesta's p, knitting her fingers through red locks. She shoved the woman's head inward.

  Lady Vesta gasped in delight as her nose was buried between Sara's legs, both her hands flying up to grip Sara's thighs beneath her dress. Vesta nuzzled her head back and forth, breathing deeply of Sara's scent, like she'd never live without it.

  Sara ground her hips forward, finding a messy friction against Vesta's face through yers of clothes. The noblewoman feverishly fumbled at her dress, diving beneath it with a breathless moan.

  Sara obligingly rolled her hips, letting the woman feel the dampness of her panties. Sara felt shaky hands cw her underwear down and took another step forward, thumping Vesta's back against the wall.

  Lady Vesta didn't resist in the slightest, kneading the flesh of Sara's ass as she finally, finally found what she'd been looking for.

  For the briefest moments warm breath grazed across the slickness coating Sara's thighs. It was the only warning before a tongue followed.

  Sara buckled forward as Lady Vesta reached her core, balling her fists in the woman's red curls. Lady Vesta tasted her like a woman possessed, her whole head moving as she vished attention across every part of Sara she could reach. Lights danced behind Sara's eyes as she pecked a kiss on her clit, then ran slow strokes along her lips that had Sara's knees quivering.

  "Fuck, Vesta," she moaned, thumping her forehead against the drawn curtain. "This is... f-fuck!"

  She felt Lady Vesta smile against her, humming pridefully. Her hands worked their way around from Sara's ass, one moving to the colr of her dress, the other snaking up beneath Sara's shirt.

  Sara had never slept with an older woman before, something that was proving itself to be one of the biggest fucking mistakes of her life. Vesta's tongue moved with a master painter's grace, pulling from Sara's throat sounds that she hadn't even known she could make. She kissed, and nibbled, and bit the insides of her thighs, every momentary diversion serving to drive Sara's need higher.

  "Get yoooour fucking fingers inside-" Sara's demand was cut off by her own high pitched gasp, Vesta obliging her before she'd even finished the sentence. Sara felt Vesta's long fingers slip inside her with shocking ease, her pussy involuntarily cmping around them.

  Lady Vesta had the gall to chuckle at her. Sara would have been mad enough to say something, but she was so wrapped up in pleasure that her body was melting forward, face sliding down the curtain. Before she was even aware of what was happening, Vesta had guided her limp body to the floor, spreading her legs on the softest carpet she'd ever felt in her life.

  Sara tucked her legs around Vesta's shoulders, feeling bare skin against her. Somehow, at some point, the top half Vesta's dress had been removed, dangling around her waist. Sara hooked a foot under what still hung on and kicked, throwing the final remnants of Vesta's clothes across the room.

  "Now, now," Vesta murmured, lifting up just enough to make eye contact with a panting Sara. "That's hardly fair."

  "You're lucky you're right," Sara huffed, hands flying up to the faux-corset she'd worn for her meeting with Hurlish. It didn't actually press her body into shape, but it had all the pretty ces that made it look like it did.

  Sara snapped threads until she could throw it over her head, smming both palms back down on the back of Vesta's head. "You get to watch, but that doesn't mean you get to stop," she panted.

  Vesta dove back in, the return of her tongue curling Sara's toes and sparking stars behind her eyelids.

  "H-h-how the fuck are you so good?" Sara demanded, thumping her head against the floor.

  Vesta curled her fingers, tongue running circles around Sara's clit. Sara looked down at the woman between her legs as she lifted away again, face wet with Sara's slick.

  "Practice, Lady Sara. Many dedicated, delicious hours of practice."

  Sara shoved her back down, rolling her body against that blessed fucking mouth. Some part of her noted the door clicking open, then closing again, but she couldn't care less, the building heat between her legs the only thing that mattered.

  A mouth pressed against her's, hair falling around her. Sara suddenly felt Evie's hands begin wandering over her body, scraping little red lines from her throat to her breasts. Sara quaked under the hands of two women, reveling in sensation. She tasted Evie's cherry tongue rolling across her own, heard the sound of her own muffled gasps and the pump of Vesta's fingers in her.

  Sara's hands dug deeper into Vesta's hair, pulling her forward, pulling her closer. Her gasps turned to pitiful whines, interspersed with profanities and cries for more. Vesta tried to pull away, for a breath or something else Sara didn't know, because she didn't let her, keeping her right where she wanted her, where she needed her...

  Sara's body spasmed. Her spine lifted off the ground as she cried into Evie's mouth, every muscle in her body quivering. She twisted and writhed, nonsensical words failing to fall out of her as she came, jerking her hips up against Vesta's mouth. The fingers in her kept curling, pressing deeper, not letting it end, coaxing her along as she kept whining, kept cumming.

  Finally, Sara colpsed all at once, exhausted. Evie gently pulled away from her mouth, licking at the corners of Sara's lips. A distant part of Sara's mind, the part not awash in golden light, heard the noblewoman gasping.

  "By all the gods," Vesta swore between breaths, "I've never tasted anyone that good. Never tasted anything that good."

  "Just wait," Evie said, tracing knowing lines over the half-conscious Sara's skin. "If you want it to, it gets better."

  "How?" Vesta asked breathlessly. "What could be better than that?"

  "Master?" Evie prompted. "I think she's ready for it."

  Sara roused, the hidden blessing of Amarat fring to life. All of her exhaustion and all of her tiredness slowly floated away, forgotten. Between her legs, right before Lady Vesta's eyes, something began to swell.

  Sara sat up, looking down at Lady Vesta, taking in her ruined hair and the pale expanse of her naked body. Her ass was perfectly shaped, bigger than Evie's, and her tits were rge enough to bury a face in.

  Vesta's eyes were glued to Sara's waist. She breathed hard and heavy as she watched Sara's cock magically appear, licking her lips.

  "If you don't want to," Sara offered, gesturing to her cock. "You don't have to. It's just... it reacts to my desires. My partner's desires. And with Evie here, well... there's a lot of desire for it."

  Vesta's eyes sparkled as she watched Sara's cock rise, every beat of Sara's heart making it jump.

  "I don't think either of your desires were required for this," Vesta breathed, crawling closer. "Mine alone were more than enough. So big..." Her hand wrapped around the middle of the shaft, causing Sara to hiss in pleasure. "And so warm. Toys have always done me fine, but this..." Vesta bent forward, kissing the tip. Sara groaned at the touch of her lips. "Finally."

  Suddenly Lady Vesta blinked, her trance broken even as she slowly pumped her hand along Sara's length. "What do I do now?"

  Sara ughed. "How about I get up in a chair, to start with?"

  "Okay," Vesta breathed, excitedly moving forward. She didn't even let go of Sara as she was backed into a chair that Evie drew forward. In fact, she hardly broke eye contact with Sara's cock, dropping to her knees as soon as Sara had sat down.

  "I want it in me," she whispered, almost to herself. "I want to taste it."

  Evie kneeled just behind the older woman, guiding her other hand up. "It's all yours."

  Sara watched as a proud noblewoman, one of the most powerful figures in the city, was entranced by her cock. With worshipful eyes Vesta reached up, setting a hand on the tip.

  "Just... be careful with the teeth, alright?"

  "I understand."

  Lady Vesta licked her lips and opened her mouth. Slowly, deliberately, she licked a long line from base to head. Sara watched and shuddered in her chair, nails digging into the upholstery.

  "Wonderful," Lady Vesta sighed, diving back down. Sara's eyes fluttered as she licked again, slower, vishing her attention on Sara's cock. Evie reached around to massage the back of Vesta's neck, bringing her head up.

  "You know what you want to do," the feline whispered into Vesta's ear. "Look at her. You know what she wants, don't you?"

  Vesta swallowed hard, opening her mouth. Evie pressed her forward, whispering instructions in her ear.

  "Put your tongue out, just a little bit... Yes, like that. Bring your lips in, and take a deep breath..."

  It took all Sara had to keep herself still, letting Evie guide that wondrous, unimaginable heat to surround her. Sara knew she should look away, to keep herself under control, but she couldn't tear herself away from the sight. Her cock took after her partner's desires, which meant for this occasion that Lady Vesta's ruby lips were sealing around Sara's 7 inch length, thick enough to make it challenging, but not impossible, to take into her throat. Sara shuddered again, looking away.

  "Look at her, Lady Vesta. She can't bear it. She wants you to move. Will you be a good girl for her?"

  Sara whined as Vesta's mouth began to descend, sliding along the saliva her licks had already pced. Sara was so fucking sensitive that she could feel Vesta's lipstick tugging at her skin, felt the flexing of her tongue as she got used to having a cock in her mouth.

  Sara felt her head bump into the back of Lady Vesta's throat. The noblewoman paused, beginning to pull back, but Evie's hand kept her in pce.

  "Come now, Lady Vesta," the catgirl purred. "I know you can do it. I know you want to feel her in you, hear her whine and groan like you did earlier." Evie's hand wandered down between Vesta's legs, rubbing at her lips, avoiding her clit. Evie pushed just a bit harder on Vesta's head, nipping at her ear. "Good girls get rewarded, Lady Vesta. And I know you want to be a good girl, don't you?"

  Sara was too lost in pleasure to object, to say that Vesta should only do what she was comfortable with. To be honest, Sara didn't know if she'd even have the willpower to say it, not with the way even sitting motionlessly in Vesta's mouth was driving her crazy.

  With a determined breath through her nose, Vesta began pushing forward. Sara groaned as her hips tried to meet the advance, but Evie had known her too well, pcing a palm on her pelvis to keep her still. Sara whined, legs shaking, just wanting more.

  Encouraged by Evie's steady hand against her head, Lady Vesta gave it to her.

  Sara felt herself slip farther down Vesta's throat, her wonderful lips taking her inch by inch. Sara squirmed, panting, burning under the intensity of Vesta's eyes. The noblewoman watched Sara struggle to control herself, luxuriating in the sounds she pulled from Sara's mouth, delight dancing in her eyes. She kept going down, down, down, and Sara felt herself sinking further into bliss, thoughts melting away.

  Lady Vesta's nose pressed against Sara's stomach. Sara bucked hard at the touch, and this time Evie didn't hold her back. Vesta's head rocked back as Sara pumped, but there was nowhere to go.

  "That's a good girl," Evie purred into Vesta's ear, finally reaching for where Vesta wanted. The catgirl's fingers pressed against her clit, forcing a muffled moan out from around Sara's cock. She felt the sound hum against her, a buzz that drove her crazy.

  Sara's hands flew to Lady Vesta's scalp, grabbing at her hair and pulling her away. Vesta's hips ground against Evie's hand, Evie gasped in anticipation, and then Sara smmed Vesta's head back down.

  Three moans filled the air. Sara felt herself buried in primal heat, shoving until Vesta was pressed against her. Evie began rubbing tight circles on Vesta's clit, whispering encouragement all the while.

  "Keep going, keep going," she cooed, "take it all for Master. It's going to come soon, and then you'll want nothing else ever again, I promise."

  Vesta kept bobbing her head, meeting Sara's thrusts. Sara was so worked up that she felt her orgasm building already, drops of precum rising to her tip. Vesta swallowed them eagerly, and as she did, her eyes widened.

  "There it is," Evie purred, slipping a finger into Vesta's wet folds. "You tasted it, didn't you? What do you think?"

  Vesta didn't answer. With a full body spasm she threw herself forward, burying Sara to the hilt. Her hands flew to the base of Sara's cock, pumping, squeezing, trying to find just another drop to drink. Sara moaned into the open air, grip too weak on Vesta's head to even guide her.

  It didn't matter, because Vesta moved like a woman possessed. Her tongue pped at Sara's length, drool falling from her lips as she pumped and ground, desperate for what she knew was coming. A high pitched whine escaped her as Evie slipped another finger into her pussy, thumb still working at her clit.

  "Take it, take it all, be hers," Evie whispered madly, her own voice growing ragged. "It's all you want, isn't it? It's all you need."

  Vesta nodded frantically, pumping harder, lipstick smeared up and down Sara's shaft as she worked herself into a frenzy.

  Sara was gone. Her only thought was of Vesta's lips, her throat, that tight sweetness that was taking her to the edge. Sara whined, and groaned, and pumped her hips, a heat building that she couldn't stop, until finally, finally-

  The world went white. Sara's body curved, throwing Vesta back. With rhythmic pumps she began to cum, her orgasm obliterating her, leaving nothing but the instinct to keep moving, push deeper.

  Vesta came, not because of Evie's fingers, but from the taste of Sara's cum, and even the shaking of her body could not keep her from shoving Sara further down her throat. Vesta didn't scream, or cry, but just whimpered, taken by a mind-filling fog that only left in her the thought to drink it, drink it all. It tasted like golden honey running down her throat, lighting her afire with a pleasure she'd never known. She threw herself at it, not wanting it to end, even as she grew sensitive, Evie's fingers burning against her. Vesta kept letting Sara fuck her throat through it all, never wanting it to end.

  Eventually, inevitably, sadly, it had to finish. With a final cry and jerk of her hips Sara colpsed, falling back into the chair. Vesta followed her down, bobbing her head to try and get just get a little bit more, but the well had truly run dry. With a final pop Vesta pulled herself off of Sara, slumping onto the floor.

  Evie, coming down from the high of her own orgasm, pulled Sara down with them. She snuggled into her Master's arms, tugging Vesta up alongside her, and fell asleep.

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  Sometime ter, lying on the floor, three voices panting into the silent library, Sara tried to process exactly what the hell had just happened.

  She'd been chatting with Lady Vesta first, pnning to see if she was someone worth robbing or simply cutting down, and then the pop-up had appeared. As soon as she'd known that Lady Vesta was, well, 'avaible', Sara's intentions had forked down a very different road. One that ended with Evie ying on her left breast, Vesta on her right, all involved naked, sweaty, and satisfied. Surprisingly, doing so had revealed even more about the middle-aged noblewoman, endearing her further to Sara. One thing still tickled at her sensibilities, though.

  "Hey, Vesta?" Sara panted.

  "Mmm?" The woman murmured sleepily from Sara's chest.

  "What did you do with those maids when you were done with them? I can't imagine you kept them all around, right?"

  It took the tired Vesta a few moments to even recall what Sara was referring to. "Oh, you mean the women I spoke of earlier. I sent them away, of course. Usually after a few months, when the temptation to grow compcent grew too great. The intricacies and plots of courtly life are brutal even for nobility, and any potential avenue for an assault on my character would be exploited."

  "Just tossed them off? Threw them away?"

  "Heavens, no," Vesta breathed defensively, then quietly chuckled. "I sent them to the estates of family members, those that I knew would treat them well. Thinking on it now, I realize that I went through enough women that I may have inadvertently turned several rural mansions into paces of debauchery. It's irritating at the best of times to find a woman interested in women, so I wonder if my cousins have realized why their staff are so friendly with each other."

  Even Evie chuckled at the mental image. Still softly purring, the catgirl said, "Can you imagine what those manors are like when the lord and dy are away on business? Master, we must put Lady Vesta's cultivated lesbian vils on our travel itinerary."

  Lady Vesta ughed. "I'll be sure to give you a list. If I didn't have that damnable husband of mine, I'd likely have made several trips myself. Meet with family in the day, see who knocks on my door at night, and keep a handy supply of potions to keep me awake. It sounds delightful."

  Sara looked down at the beautiful woman, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "Is your husband really all that bad?"

  Lady Vesta took a long breath, considering her words carefully before speaking. "Gerald is a competent enough negotiator, but little else. I was seventeen when my parents had him wedded to me, hoping his business acumen would maintain their fortune. After he gave me my children, though, it became obvious that 'maintaining' was all he was capable of. I was the one who brought House Vesta to our current height, and it's me that the other nobles look to. These days he's little more than an irritating pdog clinging to my success, nipping at other's heels when he thinks I'm not looking. If you were concerned about svery, Lady Sara, look no further for the archetype of a man too tiny to succeed, taking it out on those beneath him."

  "So... you'd be okay with him being removed?" Sara ventured.

  Lady Vesta looked up at her. "I'd like nothing more. At the very least, it would give me more opportunity to pursue dalliances like this one."

  Sara shared a look with Evie, trying to communicate through expression and bond her seeking of the catgirl's opinion on Lady Vesta. In answer the catgirl possessively nipped at the noblewoman's earlobe, Vesta giggling girlishly at the ticklish feeling.

  "Alright, my Lady," Sara said. "I guess I'll be honest with you. I met with you today to see if you were worth just robbing, or if I should kill you and your husband outright. But recent events..." Sara slid a hand over Vesta's bare shoulder, "...have convinced me otherwise. What say you we both go in on getting rid of your husband, make our partnership a bit more official?"

  Sara watched in amusement as Lady Vesta's demeanor changed, despite being naked and covered with a sheen of sweat. Her shoulders squared and her eyebrows pinched together, jaw set more firmly as she considered.

  "I'm agreeable to such a pn on the face of it, but I've lived too cautiously to agree outright. Besides further dalliances like these, which I will admit is a powerful draw, what do you have to offer me?"

  Sara had half-hoped for a fairytale agreement right then and there, but of course the woman who had turned a middling power into one that dominated an entire city wouldn't be so easily convinced.

  "Should we get dressed and talk it over properly?"

  Vesta sighed, feigning disappointment. "If you insist."

  Sara reluctantly disentangled herself from the two women, trying to figure out where she'd tossed her clothes.

  ----------------------------------

  "Alright," Lady Vesta finally said, tossing the wine gss over her shoulder. It shattered on the corner of a sun-lit table, scattered shards tossing rainbows across the walls. It had been over an hour of careful back-and-forth that led to this point, but Sara hadn't minded it. It seemed that Lady Vesta was fully invested from the start, but was unwilling to commit without precise knowledge of their arrangement's terms. "Let's see where this leads, Lady Sara."

  The door to the room flung open, a steel-cd guard barging into the room with his sword half-freed from its scabbard.

  "It's quite alright, Tarlin," Lady Vesta said with an airy wave. The guard froze in his tracks. "Just some dramatic fre to finish our negotiations. I trust you heard everything?"

  The pte-cd man nodded sharply, stern expression just visible to Sara behind the slits in his helmet. Considering what 'heard everything' entailed, Sara could only commend the man's professionalism.

  "Good. Then I also trust you'll make the proper changes to mine and my husband's guard over the coming days?"

  He nodded again, then sheathed his sword and pivoted on a heel to face Sara. "When will you move?" He asked, kicking the door closed behind him.

  "Uh... probably in three days or so? Waiting on a commission to get done first, but I'm not going to be very patient after that. Got lots of important god stuff to do and what not."

  Tarlin nodded once more, then addressed Lady Vesta. "I will have Semlin repce me for the day. Loyalties must be reaffirmed before the coup, so do not speak freely before anyone but myself."

  With that he departed, easing the door closed with a gentle click.

  Lady Vesta crossed her legs, fully returning to her controlled posture of before. "Now, what was this about Evie robbing me blind?"

  Evie looked at Sara, who had a sheepish expression on her face.

  After Evie had subsequently dumped out the shockingly rge pile of baubles that she'd managed to acquire, Lady Vesta had Semlin bring up from the celr a purse-sized case of ptinum coins. The denomination was unfamiliar to Sara, and she didn't think the term 'coin' quite fit. A single ptinum was worth seventy-seven gold, a hideously aggravating divisor to use, and they were square shaped instead of circur. A quarter inch thick and three inches wide, the etchings of King Sporatos on his throne were far more detailed than any on coins of gold, silver, or copper. Also, considering the weight of the box, she knew it couldn't be real ptinum, though she was equally unsure of what metal the square coin really was. When she'd asked Evie about their shape, the catgirl blinked in confusion.

  "Who would want to pay business contracts with thousands of gold? What, would you just loosely throw them into a chest and have them announce their presence with a cng every time your wagon struck a rock? Square coins are much more practical."

  Sara looked down at the neat spread of metal in the briefcase, surprised by her own flight of mencholy. "I mean, kinda? When I imagined finding a fortune I always had the image of opening a big chest of gold, shining so bright they glow in daylight, then shoving my fists in and throwing chunks of money up into the air in celebration."

  Evie, who was sitting in Sara's p with both arms thrown around her shoulders, peered at the case of sixty-five ptinum. "I think there are enough there that if you dumped them into a sack you could manage something close to that, Master."

  "Aw, that's cheating. It has to be right after you get it or it doesn't count."

  Lady Vesta, witnessing this asinine dispy from across the coffee table, turned to her bodyguard.

  "Semlin, have someone bring up another few bottles of wine. The cheap sort."

  He nodded sharply, stepping from the room to rey the order.

  Evie nuzzled into the crook of Sara's neck while the specifics of the coming days were hashed out, offering her opinion on occasion, or more often when directly prompted. Lady Vesta continued to drink at a steady pace, left weaving on her feet and hiccupping by nightfall. Once again, however, Sara suspected that her behavior was a mere exaggeration of her real drunkenness. As helpful as having an ally in the nobility would be, Sara wondered if she should have chosen someone less competent.

  Well, if a goddess led me to her, she can't be that bad of a choice... Sara considered. Divine intervention, convenient though it was, really threw a wrench in her notion of self-determination.

  The promised esteemed professor did eventually present himself, though he was far too te to be of any relevance to the... negotiations. Sara did still pick his mind for information on the abandoned southern wastes, learning more than she had in a few scant minutes of conversation than she had in weeks of travel.

  Once known as Tulian, the kingdom had been founded four centuries before by 'tribal savages' emerging from the jungle. At first the professor had described them as mindless barbarians, barely human, which immediately set Sara's bullshit detector off. After some pressing, and encouragement from Lady Vesta that the truth would not offend her no matter how far it strayed from official government edicts, the old man admitted that the 'savages' were anything but. They settled the coastal regions with shocking speed, colony after colony emerging from southern forest walls that most Sporatons had been too intimidated to explore.

  The colonists had actually been sent by a poorly understood empire further within the jungle, explicitly tasked with gaining a foothold in the more open pins. Their military, while initially hindered by their unfamiliarity with fighting in open terrain, quickly adapted to and repulsed Sporaton raids.

  Then, at some point in the following hundred and fifty years, the mysterious empire had grown weak. So weak, in fact, that the colonists saw fit to throw off their shackles and decre independence. Schors had eagerly awaited the shadowy empire's reprisal, salivating at thoughts of foreign magic and fanciful armies to document, but none had come. The newly-decred Kingdom of Tulian had slowly grown ever since, culturally assimiting into the wider continent until some went so far as to cssify them as an unofficial Sporaton vassal state. Though it wasn't true, the theory was born from valid observations.

  Then, beginning gradually 15 years ago, the storms had come. Year after year, typhoon after typhoon, the nation buckled. Coastal cities, the bulk of the Tulian economy, were outright shredded by wind and lightning, while innd settlements suffered from flooding rivers and kes. The nobility coordinated their escape during the scant few dry months between each storm season, taking with them the entire government as they left. Now there were vilges and half-shattered cities slowly being overgrown by moss, most of the peasantry surviving among fishing vilges and small farming communities.

  In short, it was a popuce without a kingdom, living in dwindling and isoted communities without a central government to connect them. That meant it was perfect for what Sara had in mind.