Priceless was sitting at the Duchessa’s desk trying not to notice the eyes of Lady Solution boring into the back of her skull. “Anything interesting, slave?” Solution asked.

“Ah, w-well not really, ex-except for the trend.” Priceless stammered and failed to completely suppress her shudder.

“Trend?” Solution pressed.

Priceless held up the papers in hand, but Solution didn’t take them, after an awkward moment, the slave set them back down on the desk and explained. “Y-Yes, Lady Solution, since the mistress left, a lot of Komestrans have come up for sale. Like, a whole lot. Really cheap too! Like they were diseased or old, even though lots of them are young and strong. Plus we’ve had lots of requests for slaves to be bought from other cities too. Since my mistress left, nobody wants to own a Komestran, even the brothels are selling them back for cheap.”

“And you are doing what, slave?” Solution asked.

Priceless closed her eyes and briefly thanked her lady’s enemies for their night of instruction. “I’ve been taking them, orders are to accept every Komestran and bring them here. Without Onimeus and the others it’s not easy but, I’ve put them to simple household tasks and... and sent them to the empty barracks. Onimeus can see if they can fight or something later, and some have good skills, rare skills even.” She added the last word hastily, and it caught Solution’s ear.

“Rare? Rare how, slave?” Solution’s eyes gleamed with a sense of opportunity.

Priceless answered in a rush, “We have a few enchanters, and some skilled smiths, even men my former master once told me about, we’ve also got master weavers and sculptors and things like that. If the mistress were not already rich, these would make her rich fast.”

“I see, I see. They made quite an impression. Then you’d better start ordering replacement slaves as fast as possible. You can’t let your owner’s business fail on your watch now, can you? All those empty places once held by Komestrans, need to be filled.” Solution remarked in passing.

“Yes, my lady.” Priceless shuddered at the prospect of failure and then held up another paper which Solution also ignored until it was put back on the desk. “I’m already putting in requisitions for more from all the cities my mistress has offices in. I’m also sending out an order to all those locations, that any Komestran sold come with a danger warning because of what happened here and,” Priceless looked over her shoulder and gave a proud smile up at the passive faced Solution, “because of what I know my mistress is doing to Fen’sai.”

“You’re that confident, are you, slave?” Solution asked rhetorically.

“Yes, My Lady. She won’t lose, not there, not to that.” Priceless defiantly shook her head, refusing to even consider it.

“I agree, slave. Have you done anything about potential retaliation from the ones who lost control of Lur’gin?” Solution asked with a faint hit of warning.

Priceless picked upon it immediately. “My Lady, I set a slave to the most important gossip areas of the city, and I had a note left for Kara to report anything at her hotel. If anyone starts even a rumor that my mistress uses magic to lengthen her eyelashes, we’ll know it here fast.”

Solution put a hand on Priceless’s head, “Good, you’re not just going through the motions, are you, slave?”

Priceless denied it immediately, “She’s my goddess of deliverance, I would do anything to protect her.”

“Good. Then keep it up, I’ll be working with the Pain Children again today. You know what to do about any nasty rumors, don’t you, when they pop up, that is?” Solution asked.

“Yes, My Lady, the slaves we’ve got watching those places already know what to do, and I will tell you right away when it happens. I promise.” Priceless replied emphatically.

Solution didn’t need to acknowledge the promise, she had no doubt it would happen, and that the little nothing would prove to be worth something after all.

Tir worked with quiet patience in the library of her new owner. She dusted the shelves that were set into the walls and looked over the collection of books. They were beautiful copies, leather or wrapped fabric bound materials with gold inlaid ink for titles and author names on the spines. Once or twice she’d even taken a copy off a shelf to look inside. Most of the books were practical materials. Guides to war, governance, and the histories of unfamiliar places or unfamiliar people, written in a foreign language. She had to guess their subjects by the pictures within.

But they were beautiful to look at. More importantly, she was doing her best. ‘This isn’t how I thought I’d be doing this but…’ Tir often began that thought, only for it to drift away before she finished it. More often, her thoughts were bitter, ‘Serving in the house of the woman who will probably marry the man I love.’

It rankled her, hard. However, worse was the promise to answer Rasgens proposal after her new mistress returned.

‘She didn’t notice it, I know she didn’t, she was preoccupied. But I did. My dearest love… got hard when she said that. He wants her. I lay right next to him in that bed, I still felt what he left within me… and he got hard for her.’ It was like ashes poured onto the fire of Tir’s soul to put it out.

It had been one thing in her mind to want the new Duchessa when they all shared the same status. ‘It’s another now that I have to follow her orders and the best I can do is create servants for her children who can inherit nothing…’

That did not stop Tir from working, however. In the morning, she dusted, in the afternoon, she visited the building designated for child education to ensure no supplies were needed, or to assist the former Komestran noble heir turned teacher.

That hour was fast approaching, and she smiled happily when she thought of them. They had warm, happy expressions on their faces and often called her pretty. ‘A few months ago I’d have passed them by without a second glance, now they’re one of the highlights of my day.’ She thought and reached into her apron, where a few wooden tokens sat within. A little reward system instituted by the Steward, when tasks were completed, these little things were given as a reward. It let her get little extra things for herself. Things like extra helpings of meat, fruit, or vegetables. Or even time off if another maid was willing to cover it. ‘Another week and I’ll have enough to have some sweets made to surprise the school with. Maybe even enough to have one for myself and one for their teacher.’

That evening however, would lead to what should be her favorite part of the day, but which was in fact, her least favorite. Her meeting with the purple tag, Priceless.

The hours passed and task after task was completed, and she found herself as the sun was setting, knocking on the door of the mistress’s main office.

“Come in.” Priceless said from within.

Tir sat down across from the table, and the brown haired woman sat primly opposite herself, and slid a piece of paper across the desk. “Today, slave, write down everything you can tell me about the ousted advisors.”

It was a very cool, even cold instruction, the opposite of the warmth and care the brown haired Priceless had given her on their first meeting. Tir reached for the quill and ink that were set waiting for her before she came through the door. She dabbed the quill into the ink a few times, lifted it up, then set it down.

“Is something wrong?” Priceless asked, looking down at the blank paper as if willing words to be there.

“Did I do something to offend you, Voice of the Duchessa?” Tir asked in a rush of words.

“Yes.” Priceless replied and went quiet.

“Can I ask what?” Tir’s voice went up a little. ‘You’re being hasty again, you’re being impulsive again! She’s a purple tag, this is the same as talking to the Duchessa herself right now!’ Tir warned herself, but could not make herself stop. “I’m sorry, whatever it was.” She added.

“No you’re not.” Priceless answered and raised her head, “You’re not here for my mistress. You’re here for you.”

“I-” Tir began, her mouth falling open.

“Don’t deny it. You are here because she can do something for you, not because you can do something for her. It’s just that those happen to be the same thing this time. If not for that, you’d have accepted her offer and gone on without ever looking back.” Priceless accused her, and Tir felt palpable danger at the belief.

“I’m… I’m loyal. I asked to stay… even if it meant like this.” She touched the silver collar around her throat.

“Yes, for you. If my mistress tried to set me free, I’d beg to stay. Once you get what you want, you plan on leaving. Your loyalty will pass. Mine won’t.” Priceless pointed out the difference, and Tir didn’t bother to deny it.

“What are you saying?” Tir dared to ask, trying very hard not to cry, she sniffled hard and dug the nails of her free hand into her palm, the pain keeping tears back. “Is it so wrong to want to get even with the ones who threw me away like trash because of something I didn’t do?”

“No… and I’m sorry… I’m sure you didn’t deserve that.” Priceless said, and meant it. “But here she comes first. Not you. She’s under no obligation to let you go after she’s given you what you want. She. Comes. First. Not your romance with the Prince after she becomes his bride and helps to rule this city. Remember, if she does say yes to him, he will be ‘hers’. I understand about Ulmin… I really do. But…”

“No.” Tir replied before Priceless could finish. “I won’t do it again. I promise.” Tir hung her head. “Now it all makes sense… no. If she marries Rasgen… Prince Rasgen. His time and mine, it will be over. Whether she sets me free or not. Just the fact that she both believed me and cared that I was innocent, are enough for me. Why else would I wear this?” Tir touched the silver collar and lips began trembling like leaves in a high wind.

“Even my Rasgen… he abandoned me too. I love him… I can’t help that. When he comes here, I’ll express that love even knowing it means less to him than the throne. I don’t know my mistress well, not yet. But she went with Sobella and took great risks for her. I won’t humiliate her by cavorting around publicly or privately with him. Not that I could publicly do anything anyway for a long time, if ever.” Tir answered with a sorrowful laugh.

“You rescued me… and she rescued me, so let me tell you something I’ve been thinking about, and you tell me your thoughts. If you don’t mind of course?” Tir asked, and Priceless, now more curious than anything, leaned forward.

“Go on.” Priceless ordered.

“I’ve gotten to spend some time with Diana, she’s told me about her little ‘Starlings’ project. I want to help her. I think I’ll do excellent work there.” A confident smile spread over her face in spite of her bitterness. “Nobody knows more about seduction and pleasure than I do. Not even Diana, I promise you. Let me work with her, let me help her get it organized, find the right men and women to do this. I promise you, I can be an asset.”

She gulped and went on with hopeful longing in her eyes, “If you’ll grant permission, make that part of my regular duties. I won’t say you’re not right about me. I’ve always been selfish. My whole life. I treated the only man to love me like a daughter as little better than a pet, until he was all I had. Then he died while helping me, and it was all my fault. I treated my husband with contempt for… just being my husband, and being too old to be a good one to me. And…” Tir took a deep breath and admitted, “I admit, I’m bitter. Bitter about my fall, bitter that the love of my life chose his chair over me even though I knew he would, and bitter that the woman who now owns my very life, gets him for herself and doesn’t even know if she wants him.”

“You’re not making me trust you, Tir.” Priceless said pointedly.

Tir leaned forward urgently, “But I’m not ungrateful! I kept her secret! I will always keep it! She believes me, I’m grateful to her beyond words… and I want to show that. You said that in this house, she comes first, yes? So let me prove I can do that. Just give me a chance…” Tir hung her head, “Like she did. Please. I’ll beg you, if that’s what you want.”

“That… no. Alright…” Priceless’s more frequent gentle look revealed itself, “The goddess of deliverance gave me a chance. I should do the same when you ask for it. Just remind yourself with every decision, your service belongs to the House of Aiwenor.”

“I will, and thank you. I mean that.” Tir replied, and taking up the quill again, she let it hover over the paper. “My service belongs to the House of Aiwenor.” She whispered before she began to write down everything she could, selling out the men who helped to raise her beloved Prince. Finding while she did so, that almost as if it were some talisman or magic spell, reminding herself of her service made it all very, very easy.