Iris retched into a little bucket beside her bed. The Silphium Tea did what it was supposed to, but there was a nasty price even at the low dosage she consumed. The acrid taste of her stomach acid burned all the way to the bucket. She spat, the little ‘ptew’ noises were as disgusting to hear as the vomit was to taste. She reached for a wooden cup of water, took the liquid into her mouth, swished it, then spat into the bucket to try to cleanse the foul taste. ‘I’ve never been in bed for this long in the morning… I suppose I should be grateful that Mistress Lyrica let me do that instead of making me work but…’ The memory of the woman’s perfunctory command that Iris drink the abortive, and counted it a favor not to charge Iris for it, stuck like a knife in the slave’s gut.

So Iris mostly stayed in bed, lying on her side while the straw poked through to prick her delicate skin like a taunt. Minutes passed by, her bleary eyes became clearer and clearer, the more she vomited, the better she felt, even if the taste never got better.

‘At least it was a low dosage, a few hours of sickness. Not days like for the ones who are weeks along.’ Iris shuddered, those women were sick for days when that sort of thing happened.

Finally she got up, the dim light of a single glowstone cast shadows over everything, the air underground was cool on her skin, and she had a faint chill still from having her cold shower that night. “This will be a long day, won’t it?” Iris asked herself. “Yes. Yes it will be.” She answered her own question, the stone was cold under her feet as she dressed and made her way to the ground floor of the White Stag, one of the boys was waiting for her at the top of the stairs.

Clad in his leg exposing shorts and a black shirt that was almost a mockery of a formal butler’s uniform, she recognized him immediately. ‘Keme.’ The name sprang to mind. The youngest son of another fallen lord. He had short brown hair and brown eyes to match, with sharp, noble features, as men went, he was exceedingly good looking. He was also the last of his line. “Mistress Lyrica wants to see you immediately.” It was all he said, and then he went back to the open area to help the others get ready.

Iris didn’t get the chance to ask him if he’d been on his way to get her, or if he’d been set to waiting for her to come up or if Lyrica was angry, he seldom said much of anything to her, so she doubted he’d answer.

So Iris let him go and went straight to the office where she found her owner writing behind a desk. “You’ve been reserved again for the… special client. So here, drink this.” She said and slid another small red bottle across the desk.

Iris looked at it, her stomach was already roiling. “It’s a ‘very’ low dosage of Silphium Tea. You won’t get sick the same way, you might be a bit queasy for a few hours today, but that’s all. You’ll be fine before he arrives. Now drink it.” Lyrica commanded, and Iris took the bottle in hand, broke the wax seal and drank it down.

Bitterness hit her tongue, but nowhere near as badly as before, she swallowed the liquid as fast as she could anyway, and then set the bottle down.

“Now,” Lyrica said immediately, then pointed to the wall. “you’ll be wearing ‘that’ as your uniform from now on. I’m procuring a few for you in different shades, but you’re my leading act from now on. I’m having a small stage put into place as we speak, it was expensive. You understand, Iris?” Lyrica demanded.

Iris had followed the pointing gesture to the wall as soon as it had been made, there, hanging from a hook on the wall were, to Iris’ surprise, what she could only describe as scarves of sheer fabric. The colors were bright blue with strands of golden thread woven throughout, but it was completely see through. ‘I might as well be naked…’ She first thought, and then she noticed how much of it there was. ‘Oh… I see…’ The volume of material meant it could be wrapped in a variety of ways to create concealment, but still offer a teasing promise to entice the hunger of the patrons. She approached it while her Mistress spoke and closed thumb and forefinger over the fabric.

When she was asked if she understood, Iris answered immediately. “I do… yes, my Lady.” She did, the unspoken words were louder than the spoken ones. ‘Be worth it.’

The sound of heavy stone falling into place reached her ears.

“Soapstone.” Lyrica said, suddenly all smiles, “Abacleon grade, the best, looks like marble, feels like it, but costs less, I got it cheap too, at cost compared to what I should have paid.”

Iris didn’t have to ask where from, her city had a mine for that, and many fine homes were built from it, only to be demolished by the new nobles that took the places of the old. ‘I could be dancing on the stone of my very own home. The sick irony of this world never runs out.’ Iris kept her thoughts to herself and wore her professional smile instead. “A good decision, Mistress, I’m sure.” She replied, and this seemed to please the slender blonde proprietress as she stood up.

“Go on, put it on, and give me the dress you’re wearing, I’ll sell it to one of your regulars… those perverts would buy the bathwater of my staff if I were allowed to sell it.”

Both Iris and Lyrica shared a shudder at that, then Iris disrobed, handing over the black and white outfit to the outstretched slender hand, then going to the sheer muslin fabric and taking it down.

Iris unrolled what was clearly several yards of material, some of which she’d mistaken for individual scarves, and then began to wrap herself in it. After the first wrap, everything of her body was still visible, but the more she did, the more it faded away.

She found that doing so just at the tops of her thighs provided an anchor point which she could further secure by wrapping in the space of her inner thighs as well. Then with smaller cloths she could hide her breasts while still exposing taunting cleavage, while the ends would dangle from her arms.

“You’ve worn this before?” Lyrica asked when she saw the expert way it was wrapped.

“No, my Lady. My father was a man of… high culture, and some of his women wore this, I’d seen them dress sometimes, and I remembered how they did it.” Iris explained, then reached her hands behind her neck and pulled her long hair out of the fabric so that it tumbled like a waterfall of ink down her back.

“You’re beautiful.” Lyrica acknowledged. “Now come out to the bar with me, I’ll teach you how to make some of these drinks. But remember this…” She said as she left the office with Iris in tow, “Never be up against the bar, slide drinks over.”

As soon as they were behind the dark wooden surface, Lyrica began to explain in detail. Making various drinks and identifying more types of liquor than Iris knew existed beyond names.

After she was done, Lyrica went to the front and sat down as if she was a customer. “Now, serve me as if I were one of our male patrons.” She said and her smile became warm, inviting, she leaned over the bar and rested her cheek in one hand.

“So, what would you recommend?” Lyrica asked.

Iris cleared her throat, straightened up as she got ‘into character’ and began making a few recommendations. Lyrica ordered something mixed, and Iris did her best to prepare it, sliding a stone cup across the bar.

It happened so fast that Iris couldn’t react. Lyrica grabbed Iris by the wrist and yanked her forward. Iris froze, her blue eyes widened in sudden fear. “That. Is why you don’t get too close, Iris.” Lyrica said, “Stand back from the bar, slide the drink over, collect money the same way. Security may protect you, but it’s still a disruption and I won’t have that.”

Iris gave a little nod, and only then did her owner let go of her wrist. “Now,” Lyrica said, “Try it again, we’ll have hours and hours before your client arrives, and this will take weeks to get any good at. When he gets here, you will go on stage immediately, dance, and when he’s inflamed, then go up. He leaves happy, every- single- time.”

Iris gave a submissive nod and carried out her tasks, though it was hard not to notice the way the men were putting the heavy soapstone blocks into place. A half circle extended out from the wall, and additional glowstones were put into place on small rods drilled into holes at the outer rim of the semicircle. She understood immediately. ‘I’ll have a shadow dancing with me, I’ll say this for Lyrica, she knows how to create atmosphere.’

The stone was a mix of golden strands over the surface with individual blocks cut to fit, ‘I wonder if she used real gold for that…?’ Iris was curious, but not enough to ask, she saw them affixing sealant to either side of the gold strips and holding each block against it while it settled. ‘More expensive than just putting them together but… no chance they’ll come apart and it looks just a hair nicer.’

Iris thought but focused on her tasks as her Mistress stood by her for hour after hour until the customers began to arrive. But her queasy stomach remained as unsettled as before.