Gottfried left the shop behind, brushed past his bodyguards, returned to the carriage with only a quickly commanded, “Hotel.”

“You overheard, of course.” He said after several minutes of sitting between the silent green mountains in the carriage.

They were watching out the windows again, and didn’t answer directly, not exactly. “Surprised?” Xagin inquired, the subtle variations in orc voices were starting to become clear, and Gottfried got the distinct feeling he was being somewhat mocked.

“I shouldn’t be, should I?” He asked rhetorically.

Their silence was ‘no’ enough.

That left the Prince even more sullen and feeling even more foolish, a feeling that didn’t go away when he made his way up the service entrance and waited at the door for one of his bodyguards to admit him.

Iris heard the knock at the door of her room, and heard the boyish voice of Kemel. “Iris, the Lady summons you.”

“I’ll be right there!” Iris said with haste and sat up in bed, briefly she asked herself, ‘Should I shower… no, I didn’t do anything to need that, not yet… just hurry.’ She told herself and rushed out.

Her bare feet clapped over the stone as she rushed to heed the summons, worry ran over her as she had to ask, ‘Is something wrong?’

She found a Mistress who was all smiles, and barely kept her sigh of relief back. “Have you had your Silphium already?” Lyrica asked, and Iris shook her head.

“Here, drink it.” Lyrica reached for the shelf on which the little red bottles lay, and Iris looked at her with questioning eyes.

“A last moment thing, you have a client who wants some time with you now, today. You can shower again so you’re clean for the Prince, and the dose now should still be good then.” Lyrica broke the wax seal and handed the bottle over to Iris.

“Can I ask who it is?” Iris asked while slowly stretching out her hand for the little container. Her fingers closed around it as Lyrica answered.

“I don’t know, their servant paid up front and they’re upstairs, just make them happy, they paid for ‘one hour of company with our finest dancer’ that leaves plenty of time for you to be ready for tonight still, as long as you don’t dawdle.” her eyes narrowed, “And you will not dawdle.”

It was a sort of relief to quickly down the vial. ‘You knew this would happen.’ Iris cursed as the bitter taste hit her mouth and ran down into her gut. She set it on the table and then hesitantly asked, “What if he wants more?”

Lyrica had an immediate answer. “I already informed the servant of your prior engagement. Go, they’re probably upstairs already, take a bottle of our best and a glass, be back down when you’re done.”

Iris bent her knees in a quick bob and left without another word, she went behind the bar and standing on her tiptoes she reached up and grabbed a deep blue bottle at the base.

She carried it under one arm up the steps, every one a tiny noise like it was leading to her execution. ‘This was inevitable, really.’ She pasted the fake professional smile on her face and entered the room.

Inside she found more or less what she expected. A sophisticated looking Jabarian aristocrat of some sort. Scarlet shirt and bright blue cloak, he wore a leaf green hat and expensive leather shoes with a bright silver buckle over the center of each. He was also clean shaven, save for a small brown mustache framed by sharp wellbred features and a hooked nose.

“My lord?” Iris said as teasingly as she could. His legs were crossed one over the other as he leaned back in the booth, and with an arrogant little smirk he raised one hand with palm upturned and curled his fingers toward him. “A bottle of our finest, to go with our finest.” Iris gave a little phony inviting smile and walked slowly over, allowing him to take her in.

“Is what I’ve heard true?” He asked in an imperious voice.

“I can’t know that unless I know what it is you’ve heard, My Lord.” Iris remarked as she set the glass and bottle down then, pulling the cork free, she started to pour.

“You’re Abacleon, all of you? The staff here?” He asked.

Iris nodded as the glass filled and then set the bottle down.

“Yes, we were all from various noble families before the city fell, the men and women, including me.” Iris kept her voice very neutral.

“You’re the children of traitors.” He said, and she didn’t flinch from the spark of anger in sharp gray eyes.

“I won’t deny it.” Iris confessed. “My father and mother were part of what happened.”

“I wish my brother could be here to see this.” The guest said, tilting his head back, Iris felt his eyes locked onto her silver collar more tightly than it was locked onto her.

“Oh?” Iris asked, for a moment she almost picked up the glass, but her danger instinct was screaming at her, and so she slid the glass over the table.

“Yes, he died in the fighting against your city, he was one of the few casualties. It would have made him happy, to see you reduced to dancers, slaves, and whores.” The ‘guest’ suggested.

Iris tried hard not to flinch, her entire body tense as steel inside, she nonetheless kept her cool.

“I’m sorry for your loss, but yes, I’m sure he would at least be happy now.” Iris put her eyes down and folded her hands in front of herself.

Then it all changed, she felt the anger melt away from him, “You’re not to blame, of course, you just lived there… it was the Prince who destroyed you all, the Prince, his mother, and the Emperor… my brother would be alive if they hadn’t sent him… and they’re also why you’re here, aren’t they?” The guest reached for the glass and took a long drink until it was empty.

“I… yes…” Iris acknowledged. When the glass went back down to the table she was grateful for the chance to move again, she reached for the bottle, took it up, and began to pour again.

“You hate them, don’t you… the ones who did this to you?” The guest asked, his gray eyes boring into her, she tried not to meet them, instead pouring the bottle again.

Finally she answered, having bought a moment’s time. “Would you, if our places were reversed?” Iris asked.

“And if you could make them pay for it, to take some revenge on the ones who stole your life, your city, your people… the ones who took everything and killed it, burned it, knocked it down or sold it… the ones who took from us both… wouldn’t that be… interesting?” He asked, leaving the question hanging.

Iris let him take the glass to his lips and consume it before asking, “How would that even be possible…? There’s no way…”

The stranger smirked and reached into the pocket of his shirt to pull out a small white pouch, he set it on the table. “The Emperor’s sister engineered that war. Your governor was a disloyal piece of trash, that is true, but she knew that. She engineered that conflict herself in order to ensure an easy victory, a fight on her own terms is one she will always win. Everybody you knew, everybody you loved… all danced in the palm of her hand, and now here you are. A traitor whore for the rest of your life… don’t you want to get even?” He asked, Iris stared silently down at the little white pouch.

“Is that poison?” Iris asked, her eyes fixed on the tiny pouch..

“Not exactly, a paralytic agent. A strong enough dose that even Gottfried Jabara should be rendered unable to move for a few hours. Put this into his wine, once consumed he will be rendered helpless.”

“He’s a Godsheir, how can you be sure?” Iris asked, her eyes flitted briefly to his face before going back to the pouch. “The weakest Godsheir in the world is stronger than the common man by far… why do you believe this can work? Or do you actually think it can at all and I’m just throwing my life away to test it?” She frowned a little, ‘I don’t know what I expected… but this wasn’t it.’

“We’ve tested it on other Godsheirs, of course.” He answered, “All you have to do is slip it into his wine, and within a few minutes?” He snapped his fingers and set the pouch down. “Then we can take care of the bodyguards easily enough, and finish him off while he is paralyzed… but do not kill him yourself, no matter how much you want to, at least not right away. I want to watch him die. Do you understand?” The ‘guest’ both explained… and demanded.

“But how-” Iris’ question was cut off by the agent’s next words.

“I know he comes here, we’ve been watching, he always comes for you, that puts you closer than anyone, and you’re often alone with him, and your owner tells me you have a ‘special appointment’ to go to soon. It’s him, isn’t it, at his suite.” The guest pressed, and Iris kept her mouth shut.

The guest didn’t wait, “We’ll be following, do what I say, and I’ll buy you, take you far, far away, and set you free with enough money to live in comfort for the rest of your natural life. Everyone will be avenged, and without a godsheir close to the throne… well it’s only a matter of time unless they can entice one, and even then… there is no other Gottfried Jabara, you can’t just replace that.”

“No… no, that’s true, you can’t.” Iris said, her phony smile restored.

“Just get him alone, get him to drink, and we’ll be along. He likes to drink, doesn’t he?” The seeming noble asked.

“Who doesn’t?” Iris chuckled.

“And… you have no loyalty to him, no feelings of sentiment will get in the way?” He demanded to know.

Her heart pounded in her breast as the conspiracy was laid bare before her eyes, “Would you have any? I’m no friend of his. I’m no servant of his. I’m not a free citizen of his. If what you say is true… then every single thing is the fault of him and his mother, right down to my standing in front of you now, isn’t it, Sir?” She asked her client with a long, steady look into the steel gray eyes.

She reached down and snatched up the white little pouch and folded it into the muslin wraps between the fabric and her breast. “You still have a half an hour, do you want to unwrap me, or what? It’s the least I can do, for someone offering so much.”