A large, long, log bone fire saw along the wall of the room. A tall, wide chimney sat above it. The giant flames roared as they lit the room. White pristine walls were covered by red and orange light. It cast an almost ominous, conniving tone across the room. Merchants, lords, and ladies all marvelled at the flames. Well not the flames, but rather what stood in front of them.

Several women stood in front of the flames, dressed in large fur crows that had a fern base. Covering their bodies, were large blue dresses. Three of the four women chatted happily with young merchants and lords, each mand fascinated by the beauty of these ‘elegant savages.’ Even women came over to marvel at the long, thick, black hair of these tropical women.

One of the women, the only one refusing to talk or socialise with the people at the party, moved over to one of the women.

“Nolkonoe!” the woman muttered angrily to one of the women.

“Yes Etasose?” she said, gritting her teeth slightly as she stared at the annoyed-looking Chiefess.

“Why must we dress like this? And that dammed fire! I have almost set fire to my dress several times!” she continued. Switching to English, Nolkonoe quickly excused herself from the conversation she was having so she could solely focus on the Chiefess.

“I hate it just as much as you. But we have to act like ‘noble, seductive, savages tamed and dressed in civilised clothes’ for these ignorant pigs. It makes them happy, and it keeps them interested in us. It’s an insult to our culture, but it brings more business to our tribe, so grin and bear,” Nolkonoe said in their native tongue before again switching back to English.

“Be nice, you are Chiefess now, you need to make contacts,” she said, before turning and carrying on talking to the merchants, a handful of lords and a group of young ladies. Etasose hissed slightly before turning away.

“I love that dress,” A female merchant said, two other well-dressed young women by her side.

“Thank you very much,” Nolkonoe quickly replied. The woman put her hand out. Nolkonoe bowed and kissed the woman’s hand. She felt dirty doing so. Someone of her status had to act so primitively to match the ideals of these egotistic nobles.

“My name is Mrs Black-Quill. My husband and our son Charlie met your tribe not too long ago,” she said, still smiling her long, smug smile at Nolkonoe.

Grabbing the arm of Etasose and dragging her to her side, Nolkonoe quickly informed her of who the woman was. Her eyes lit up as she heard Charlie’s name.

“As a child, the Chiefess here was a good friend of your sone when he visited us, may I ask where he is?” Nolkonoe said, knowing she had the full captivation of the Chiefess who clung to her arm like an excited child. The women Chuckled slightly.

“Over there, sitting and doing nothing. He is shy, so quite useless, feel free to do what you wish with him,” Mrs Black-Quill said. Before she could speak further, Nolkonoe had already translated what she had said, and the Chiefess had already scuttled off to go and find Charlie.

Not caring for who her overly large dress hit, the Chiefess moved through the crowd. Her eyes darted around until they landed on a small glass table and a singular chair. In the chair sat a fidgety, nervous young man. His hands were folded on his lap, before moving so he could rest his head on his hand, then back to being on his lap.

“My, fellow there!” a young man said, stepping in front of her.

Several men and women swarmed the Chiefess, all chatting in their strange language. Glaring at the men, she tried to move past them, but the men seemed insistent on talking to her. Racking her mind for what to say, she remembered something Phukomeia had said would make any man back away. Grinning, she readied herself to say the ‘forbidden words.’

“Step back pig or I’ll castrate you,” she said. The men all froze and shuffled to the side, muttering and cursing slightly under their breath.

“Sorry about them Mrs,” A tall man in a black suit said, walking to her side. He had short brownish red hair, similar to that of Charlie. The Chiefess wanted to get Charlie, but she did recognise this man.

“Mr Black-Quill,” she said, nodding her head to him out of respect. Looking into the crowd, she spotted Phukomeia gently caressing the chest of a man while her other handpicked a few coins out of his pockets. Raising a hand, the Chiefess got her attention. Swiftly excusing herself from seducing the man, she ran over to her side.

“Translate my words to him,” the Chiefess demanded. Phukomeia nodded, smiled at Mr Black-Quill, then began to translate each other’s words to one another.

“What brings you to hear today? I thought someone of your esteem and lineage would be chatting to the aristocrats,”

“I heard Charlie was here and came to see him,”

“Ah, old friends and all that. But I recommend ignoring him, your majesty. We have brought him here to find a wife to give him to,”

“Well, I guess there must be a large pool of women to choose from?” The Chiefess said as she peeked around Mr Black-Quill to double-check no women were trying to talk to Charlie.

“Yes, but not many here today as…” he looked to his side. The Chiefess looked as well. A woman with long blond hair and a black dress eyed Charlie. Her two equally as well-dressed friends eyed or scared off any women that dared to approach Charlie.

“Lady Florentine, she is an… interesting woman. For a while now she had kept her eyes locked onto him,” Mr Black-Quill said before taking a sip from his glass of wine. Phukomeia translated what he said. For a moment there was silence as the Chiefess eyed Lady Florentine. Smacking her on the arm, Phukomeia snapped the Chiefess out of her most likely murder filled daydream.

“I see, how much money is she offering to buy him for?” the Chiefess said, constantly moving her gaze from Charlie to Florentine and then back.

“Well, it was very surprising, about five hundred crowned golds,” the Chiefess nodded, not really knowing how much money it was, but she assumed it was a lot from the look of shock on Phukomeia’s face.

“How much do we have?” the Chiefess whispered back in her native tongue.

“About sixteen million coppers, which is about sixteen crowned golds,” Phukomeia said back, keeping in their native language.

“Do we have anything besides copper?”

“About thirty gold, which is thirty thousand coppers, and two Dragnoas, which is about two hundred million coppers,”

“Perfect,” the Chiefess said before turning to Mr Black-Quill. Taking a sip of his drink, he turned to her to place his attention onto her once again.

“One Dragona coin and I will allow two maids of my tribe to come and work for you,” as the Chiefess made her counteroffer in English, Mr Black-Quill spat his drink onto the floor.

“Yes absolutely!” he burst out. Having the idea of such a vast amount of money as well as two beautiful southern realm women working for him was an offer too good to pass up. For a second though his excitement dulled as rationality took over.

“But I fear he is too young. Imperial law says he won’t be allowed to leave the Country of Coxy, let alone the Region until he is eighteen,” there was a moment of silence as he raked his mind for ideas.

“He will be seventeen in nine months. If we then wait for a while, I could probably send him out on a merchant caravan for ‘training’ It takes about three months to get to your tribe, so that will probably be when he arrives. So, all in all, it will be fifteen months until he arrives,” Crossing her arms, the Chiefess started to think.

“Delay it a while longer, I want him to arrive, spend time with me, then turn eighteen on the night I make him mine. I want to be very clear; this will be a taster time for me. So, no deal yet, but as a sign of good faith I want two of my warriors to act as your maids until the time has come,” Mr Black-Quill quickly agreed, offering his son up to the savage yet ‘civilised’ woman.