‘Gossip. Gossip. Gossip. It never stops!’ Prince Rasgen thought with annoyance from his throne, the nobles gossipped like old women, or as he turned it around, ‘Perhaps the old women gossip like nobles?’ He understood the reason: information was power, a city-state had only so much, even the great cities only had spheres of influence over the small ones. In the same way, the nobles had their spheres of influence around him, their fingers in various forms of trade from farming to mining.

Everything hinged on everything else, with power rising and falling from one small faction to the other, the sudden arrival, meteoric rise, and sudden lone departure of the new Duchessa sent chaos through their ranks.

Which was why it was no surprise that his little whisperers among their servants carried to him the question, ‘Has the Duchessa a husband coming to her? And if not, to whom might she be inclined?’ The words carried to him were no doubt connected to the invitations that had begun to be delivered by servants of the new house. ‘A ball, of sorts, where all wear masks? What an interesting idea. I’ve never heard of a ‘masquerade’ but… it is such a charming notion…’ That was his first thought, the second was the confidence displayed by the servants that their mistress would return, in and of itself, that set the sensitive nobles of Pas’en on edge. That, and the strange devotion of the iron collared slaves who bowed as they held out the invitations. Rumors were most abound on that, and Prince Rasgen turned an ear to it all.

‘They act more like they are her children than her possessions.’ He mused with his head on his fist and his arm propped up on the armrest of his throne.

But all that was shunted aside as the chaos began with the spreading stories of slaughter at Minister Ulmin’s country estate and the survival of Lodira. They spread like a summer wildfire and as soon as the rest of his ‘surviving’ ministers arrived, Prince Rasgen called a private meeting.

When the door was closed, the wine was poured, and the Prince took his seat, he immediately spoke. “What you hear is true. The Contessa Lodira’s country estate, Minister Ulmin’s country estate… everyone there was murdered last night. The Contessa survived and made her way here this morning. She’s resting in my quarters, and she is physically unharmed. Questions?”

General Leaman was the first to speak up, “Do we… is there any hint of who might have done this?”

Prince Rasgen shook his head, “It is far too early to say. I dispatched riders as soon as she returned, once we know more, we can hopefully find and punish the guilty. For now however…” Rasgen let his sharp green eyes run from one to the next among them, “Do any of you know why he might have been killed? Not just him, but so many others. If the Contessa is right, then someone exterminated his entire household. That is a… severe grudge.”

Blank stares met him in return, “Well?” Rasgen asked the room that might as well have been empty, for all that was being contributed by its occupants.

Finally General Leaman spoke up again, his large body shifted uncomfortably in what should have been a comfortable chair. His finger tapped mindlessly on the surface of the table, “My Prince… there are only two who could have held a grudge against him that I know of.”

Prince Rasgen’s sharp features all tensed at once, “Out with it man! Quickly!” He exclaimed, leaning forward in his chair. ‘By the stars how I hate that tapping.’ He thought and dismissed the annoyance as fast as he could.

“Sire… the only two are the Contessa Lodira… and yourself.” General Leaman looked sullenly away from the purple rage that began to form on the face of his Prince.

“She and I?!” Prince Rasgen slammed his fist down hard on the table. “Explain yourself General Leaman. Baron Ulmin, Minister Ulmin, helped raise me, he was like an uncle. I knew everyone in that house! I can’t imagine doing that to him!”

The old men jumped a tiny bit in their own skin at the uncharacteristic rage.

General Leaman however, showed some of the vigor and boldness of his long vanished youth and he answered his Prince truthfully. “My Prince, all that you say is true. However, none of that stopped you from sleeping with his wife. None of it made you even discreet about it. Every time he sent her to see you, she came home…” General Leaman tapped harder and faster on the table with his index finger, sweat sprang from his brow, “it’s just, he knew, everyone knew. He hated that, he was ashamed of it. And the Contessa? It was part of how she punished him. She didn’t like the Baron, we all knew that, you knew that, everybody knew that. It wasn’t his fault he was old and she was young. But she treated him like a joke because…” He stopped talking, the other ministers were all nodding, and Prince Rasgen sat back in his chair.

“And…” The Minister of Justice added reluctantly, “with your consort gone… with respect, My Prince, it would appear to open a place at your side for which the Contessa is well suited… if she had not been married. Which is now no longer a problem.”

Prince Rasgen clamped down on the sudden pain in his heart and spoke with soft recrimination, “Minister Barsam, you’ve been the Minister of Justice for forty years… you were my teacher, you taught me the value of law. You’ve known me all my life. Can you really tell me that you believe I am the sort of man who would have such a murder committed in the night before sending my consort off as a tribute?”

The wiry old man twirled the base of his long thin beard and hung his head in shame, “No, my Prince. I don’t believe that. I am only telling you how it appears. But I don’t believe you did this. And whatever I think of Lady Lodira… she isn’t the bloodthirsty sort.”

“No… you’re right, you’re right.” The prince acknowledged. “I won’t pretend you’re not. It was nobody’s fault that things worked out that way, but the Contessa couldn’t have done something like that. You said it yourself, she was already punishing him in her own way… maybe I was too. I didn’t want to hurt the old man but... you saw me grow up with her. I…” Prince Rasgen brought his thumb and forefinger up to wipe his eyes clear and briefly ceased to speak.

“You didn’t see the Contessa, though. I don’t believe for a moment that she is so consummate an actress, maybe she didn’t love him, but she didn’t hate him enough to kill his entire house, and she’s not skilled enough to have done that, and not actress enough to come back here as she did.” Prince Rasgen shook his head violently, “Not. A. Chance.”

The Minister of Justice was like the rest in the hanging of his head, but he differentiated himself by silence when he added, “Then, My Prince, you must prepare for rumors to the contrary. The other nobles will use this as a chance to undermine your standing. Everybody knew that you would have to marry soon, even… even Sobella knew that. This means that you have to act swiftly.”

Prince Rasgen’s jaw clenched with a sense of dark foreboding that settled on his heart. “What are you saying, old man?”

“My Prince…” Barsam said sadly, “You may have wanted to marry the Contessa Lodira, and… it might even have been a good match if things had gone differently. If Ulmin had been taken by time, or died some other way. But he didn’t, if you marry his wife now, rumors will spread for years that you killed your minister’s family to steal his bride. Nobody will ever trust you after that. You can’t… you can’t marry her. And you’ll also have to marry soon. Otherwise the rumors will get worse.”

Minister Barsam’s aged, weary old face hung with pity as he went on, “More than that, you’ll have to make sure that the Contessa is remarried as well, perhaps to someone in another city to cement ties, but whatever you do, my Prince, you have to distance yourself from her. I know how it pains you… but this is how it must be, don’t let your passions rule you, remember Prince Sado.”

“I will… take your words under advisement, for now, we still have a duty to the city, focus on that for now.” The Prince said, closing the matter, and the entire room visibly relaxed as the more routine matters of government went underway.

Freyjin crouched in front of the three girls and lightly tugged on their outfits. They wore frilly black and white dresses with soft black shoes finer than any they’d ever worn. Over their front they wore white aprons with a series of pockets, some held tools, others, to their initial delight, held small treats of wrapped sweet breads.

Freyjin beamed at the young girls, “Now listen, I know this is a great deal to take in, but… but this is the best possible outcome, more than I hoped for… more than most ever receive. Those sweetbreads are there for you to eat if you get hungry when working, but don’t neglect your work to eat. Follow the directions of the other maids, but remember… unless it is the Majordomo, Kaiji, or her assistant, Priceless, you answer only to me until our mistress returns.”

The trio nodded solemnly, Lenah and Straen’s white hair swayed slowly, their eyes still wide at the veritable paradise around them. They spoke in soft voices still, but Freyjin was glad enough that they spoke at all. “We will work hard…” They said, and went out of the room to begin their shifts.

They still didn’t call her ‘mother’ but Freyjin didn’t ask it either, they were compliant, and they trusted her, that was enough. Freyjin watched them go with a heart that still ached for the suffering they endured formerly at the hands of Bracer, and then at the nightmares the dead man left behind in the ruins of their lives.

Veema lingered and touched her naked throat, approaching her mother, she embraced her and kissed the bronze that showed the difference in their legal status. “Why won’t she let you go…” Veema whispered the question, “Why did she change my name to Veema from Veena before setting me free… are we really going to be alright here…?” The little girl’s face was serious in the way only young girls could look, questioning, doubting. Her little lips pursed tight to keep from crying. “I want to go home… I want to go home…” Veema whimpered. The feel of the cloth was the softest she’d ever known, and yet it might as well have been chains.

Freyjin held her close as she could, “Veema… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry I failed you, we all, our whole city, failed you. There is no place to go anymore. This is the only place left for us. And… at least it’s nice here… you’ll have good food, a bed, and… you’re free, when you grow up, if you want to leave, you can. I don’t know why she changed your name, maybe… maybe it’s a tradition where she comes from. Maybe when a person goes from being slave to free, they take on a new name… this is all strange. But… but she isn’t so bad, she gave you back to me, she set you free. And maybe one day I can be too. Everything will be alright.”

Veema kissed the collar that bound her mother again, “Last time you said that… I was sold.”

It was all Freyjin could do not to fall to tears when she kissed her daughter’s forehead, “None of that now, you won’t be sold again. If anyone tries to take you, anyone, I won’t fail again. I learned a lesson I’ll never forget.”

She looked toward the door of their quarters, and whispered in a fierce, determined voice, her hands tensing and arms tightening as she spoke, “I can fight fate… and win. Now go, Veema, get to work. Tomorrow you’ll begin learning, but today, you have tasks to learn along the way. Help the twins as much as you can, and mind the adults.”

Veema gave a doubtful nod to her mother, wiped her face and sniffled once, then went out of the room to get to work.

Freyjin stayed crouched there for just a little while, long enough to know she needed to get moving. When the lingering passed, full of thoughts she knew no slave should have, and yet which she could not keep at bay, she went to the office of her absent mistress to meet with Kaiji.

She passed by Onimeus leading a white clad man who shuffled slowly over the polished smooth floor. ‘A Questioner… that may complicate things…’ Freyjin felt the faint shiver pass over her skin when leaving him behind and entering the office in which Kaiji now worked.

“You’re here for the funds for the day?” Kaiji said peremptorily without looking up from where she was writing.

“Yes, what we talked about this morning will need a fair amount of coin, but what’s going on with the Questioner being here?” Freyjin asked, glancing over her shoulder to the closed door.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Steward.” Kaiji replied perfunctorily and affixed a stamp to an order form before sliding it across the desk.

Freyjin felt her nostrils flare, she approached the desk and put her palms down on it and leaned forward. She hissed with hostility in every syllable. “Voice of the mistress, you may bear the purple, but I am Steward here, perhaps I don’t know what Lady Kaiji once did, but I take the safety of every slave and servant in this manor as seriously as you do. If a Questioner is here, that can’t be good.”

Kaiji set the stamp aside, folded her hands together and looked up at Freyjin, she held the look for a moment, red eyes met blue, ‘She looks a lot like her…’ Kaiji thought whimsically, and carried with it an accompanying favorable view beyond what she already held.

Kaiji bowed her head, “I’m sorry, you’re right. You took saving Priceless seriously, and did much for us both, I shouldn’t speak so dismissively.”

Freyjin visibly relaxed, tension melting out of her shoulders, she stood up and held her hands in a casual manner behind her back. “It’s alright… Kaiji. This is strange for all of us.” She cracked a tiny smile, “I just worry because… because of…”

“Her temple. Not even a shrine, an actual temple.” Kaiji finished the sentence in a reverential voice with wide eyed devotion. “I saw. You’re doing a great work for her, she will be pleased.”

Freyjin lowered her head humbly, “I can only hope she is.”

“You don’t want to be here, do you?” Kaiji asked matter-of-factly.

Freyjin went stiff again at the implied disloyalty that underlay Kaiji’s words, an implication that could have brutal or lethal repercussions. Through her mind ran a fear of being cast down to the kitchens, or to what may be the mistress’s many farms or paddies when she bought them. ‘I can’t go to that life… I can’t…’ She shuddered within.

“Voice of the mistress, I’m-” Freyjin began formally.

“Save it. Don’t speak if you’re going to lie, slave. Tell me the truth.” Kaiji intoned the words like the clap of doom, and Freyjin could only hang her head.

“I don’t. I don’t want to be here, I want to be somewhere else, I don’t want a collar, I don’t want to bow and scrape… I am loyal… really, I’m grateful, more grateful than anyone can be. But I can’t be happy like this.” She reached up and grasped the collar at either side of her neck and pulled for emphasis. “I want my life back… is that so wrong?!” Freyjin spat out the words like they were bitter fruit on her tongue.

Kaiji’s answer was very simple, and she stared hard at Freyjin as she gave it, “Yes, slave, it is. As long as you remain a slave, that is deeply wrong. It’s even more wrong because of your position within her house, she is worthy of your loyalty and your worship. Never forget that.” The fixed stare was dread inducing, and Freyjin felt a chill to her bones.

“I know. But I’m… I traveled with her, fought under her. And I’m scared, and I know if I didn’t have this on me, I would have one less reason to be… I’ve got three children to look after now… two of them are slaves…if I don’t please her… what if she makes me get rid of one… what if one of them makes her angry and… and… she took Veena’s name and made her Veema, she can take anything from me…” Freyjin shuddered in terror at the thought. “I can’t help it if I’m scared of losing it all again… maybe she wouldn’t… but she could, and as much as I revere her, as loyal as I am… that scares me.”

Kaiji could think of nothing to say to that.