I didn't know if it was because of all my close encounters with sharp objects all day or something else but my head was about to burst. I was back home (I'm not calling it Hama-Tula estate anymore) and trying to get ready for the party. I had precious hours of sunlight left but there were so many things to do!

After returning, I sent Nanna with a detachment of four guards, two from home and two from the merchants to the caravanserai to secure my assets there. I knew word of the merchants' demise would spread like wildfire and I feared for the safety of the slaves. My agenda tomorrow would make John Amos proud. It involved another visit to the courthouse and a lot of money down the drain.

I called Hama-Tula's children to the living room.

"Rimush, can you read already?" I asked the eldest one. I didn't brand them with the slave tattoo.

"All of us know most of the characters, mistress. I also know how to add, subtract, multiply and divide. What would you have me do?"

"I want you to check these documents. Tell me what they mean." I handed him a bundle of scrolls.

He opened them and started to read. Despite their father being absolute trash and their mothers some pair of ostentatious wastrels, the kids seemed alright. Nanna told me Rimush spent most of the time I was away explaining things to their siblings. How I was merciful for making sure they all stood together even though they fell into slavery. His eyes widened more and more.

"So? What are these?"

"They are the writs of debt my father signed. Worth at least two hundred gold Shekels. And they are now owned by... you?"

He looked wary. "Rimush. This is less than half what your father's debt. These three merchants that invaded my house earlier owned these. And you are correct, these writs are now mine. Your mothers' debt is now mine. Now, what would happen if you ripped these writs to pieces then burned them?"

He placed them on the table and took a step back, terrified. "You'd murder me and my siblings!" He knelt and his brothers and sisters followed.

"No! Stand up! I won't punish you!" I hurried to fix my blunder. "No! Please don't cry. Listen to me."

"What do you want, mistress?" Rimush asked.

"I'm pardoning that debt. Rimush, take your siblings, go to the fire pit at the outside kitchen and burn the writs. Remember to always live within your means. Take at least that amount of burden off your mother's back."

"Mistress?" He asked in disbelief.

"Go and do as I told you. Didn't you listen to my order? I'll punish you if you disobey."

"As you say, mistress." Rimush took the scrolls and pulled his siblings, "Let's go! Let's go! The mistress pardoned part of the debt!"

"Will mommy come back?" Anaya, the eight-year-old daughter of Rubati asked.

"Mom will come back when she finishes paying the outstanding debt, Anaya. Come. This will help them."

I pointed at one of the eunuchs. "Follow them, make sure no child gets burned."

He bowed and ran after them. "As you command, mistress."

I spun on my heels to go to my room and start doing my makeup and found Belle staring at me.

"I can't believe you'll pardon those two. Two hundred gold shekels? I can't even calculate how much money that means!"

I summoned my phone. "Seven thousand and two hundred silver shekels. or two hundred and fifty-nine thousand and two hundred copper shekels."

Belle blinked. "A laborer earns six copper shekels per day. How long does he have to work to earn that much money?"

I did more calculations. Then I looked at the battery and clicked my tongue. "One hundred and twenty years. Belle, one smile from Anaya is worth that much money. People are worth more than money. Always."

She sighed. "Aren't you the biggest slave merchant in town now?"

I sighed. "I think I'm about to go bankrupt tomorrow. But today, I have a date. I'm going to my room to get ready. You clean up and come help me. Get someone else to cook dinner tonight."

I went upstairs feeling I'd forgotten something important. I couldn't pin it so I pushed the feeling aside.

I entered the guest room. I still hadn't been in the master bedroom. I'd probably burn the place down because however it is decorated, it would remind me of Hama-Tula, Banunu, and Rubati. Of them having a threesome there. Eww.

I summoned my carry-on on the bed and started to go through the clothes I had. Who could know that packing dresses for a forest cleanup mission would be useful in another world? Not Theresa, I think. I'd be mighty pissed at her if she knew what was coming my way. Anyway, I had a light blue spaghetti dress with small white flowers, a Chinese red cheongsam and a long ruffled cream dress with ribbons.

The spaghetti was cute but too modern. It showed a lot of skin. The cheongsam was elegant, magnificent, sexy. I'd love to let Brendan see me wearing it. But it had a slit for the cleavage and a long opening to show the thigh when I walked in it. I also didn't have high heels and they were a must with the cheongsam. The ruffled cream then.

The steel mirror had too many distortions. I put my own mirror next to it but it was too small. I cupped my hair and bound it in a bun with a scrunchie. I pulled some strands loose in the front, the sides and one on the back, leaving my neck exposed. I didn't have any accessory for the hair, neither earrings or a necklace.

That was unacceptable.

I took the coin pouch and some gold coins. I held one coin between three pinched fingers held upside down and focused. It took me some time because it was the first time I was doing it but I got the resonance for gold. I went slowly, making a thin wire seep through the thin gap between my fingers. After it got out of Decompose range, the wire solidified but it was too thin. I went through the whole coin, discarding a small lump of copper and other impurities the coin had, creating several meters of sparkly yellow gold wire. I took the wire, twisted and folded it several times, separating it in three bundles of strands. I braided the three strands and fused the tips together around my neck, making a choker.

I checked the choker in the mirror and it looked marvelous. The wire came out as a triangle and the twisted strands caught the light in several points. I took the bag of gems the caravan had and found a pretty clear red gem cut as a teardrop. I took another gold coin and slowly kneaded the metal around the gem to make a setting going around the teardrop. Then I fashioned a hook and attached the pendant to the choker, fusing the back of the hook back on itself. The gem rested between my collarbones, drawing attention like a beacon.

I repeated the twisted braid but with fewer strands, using half of a coin. I had to cannibalize my keychain ring to make the hooks but soon I had two earrings that had the same braided pattern of the choker. The keychain ring would restore itself once I discarded the cutoff pieces and I stored everything back.

I summoned the makeup kit and applied foundation, mascara, blush, lipstick, and the whole nine yards. I pulled the corners of my eyes with eyeliner to reinforce my Asiatic traces. I wanted to look my best, to blow Brendan's sabatons off. I wanted to leave crimson lipstick marks on his sword's hilt. On the gorget too.

I sighed when I noticed I wouldn't have time to do my fingernails. It wouldn't dry. Or would it? I checked what I had. Pink, red, earth brown, moss green, navy blue. Red it was. I dabbed a small bead of polish on the back of my hand and focused on it. It was complex. Very complex. I blew on it and smelled it, trying to find resonance patterns. What was fading and what was happening. I got something. Another bead then. I focused on something that vanished as it dried and forced it out. The polish dried faster on the seventh try.

I Decomposed the polish on the back of my hand and wiped the water with graphite dust that was left behind. Then I applied polish to my fingernails and carefully dried it by Decomposing only the solvent. Acetates, I learned after I checked on my chemistry books a few days later.

I checked myself. It wasn't stunning by Earth standards but I felt pretty. A rare feeling. I missed my glasses. Makeup and thick glasses didn't mix so I had to leave them home and 'navigate by instruments' whenever I had to wear makeup. Go to parties practically blind. I never could wear contacts. Now I had invulnerable eyes that could see the grains of mascara on the brush.

No time to sulk. I put a pushup bra, another stowaway Theresa slipped in my luggage, and 'pulled the breast meat from the sides to the front' as she liked to say. I didn't have matching panties though. Will it get to that? Would Brandon care if my underwear matched? I searched through my underwear for something that matched and found a garter belt.

Dammit, Theresa.

I put on the garter belt and socks. Slid inside the dress and closed the zipper. And then in the best 1990's fashion, put on hiking boots. In my defense, I only had two sets of outdoor shoes with me and the sneakers were still self-repairing. Getting stabbed in the chest burned a lot of magic power and there were less left for reconstruction.

Belle only showed up after I finished tying up my boots. I stood up.

"How do I look?"

Belle covered her mouth. "Mistress." She seemed like some fangirl seeing her favorite celebrity. "It is true! You are a princess!"

I opened my mouth, left it hanging a while, sighed then closed it shut. "I'm not a princess. But how do I look? Do I look good?"

I did a spin to show her. The skirt fluttered.

"You look wonderful. I've never seen anyone that beautiful, mistress!"

The look of pure awe in Belle's face made me look up and split the oxygen from the hydrogen in the tears that threatened to ruin my makeup. Dammit, girl.

"Do you think the guard captain will like it?"

She giggled. Belle seemed drunk. "He'll love it. He'll offer the world to buy you."

And just like that, she delivers a complete turnoff compliment. Women were merchandise. At least I looked like expensive, luxury merchandise. Like those fancy stores where you are even afraid to touch because you'd fall into slav...

I better shut up.

I waved a hand over my things and stored everything. We went downstairs. At least the boots were easy to walk in. I couldn't sit down. I was nervous like it was prom night. Brendan told me he'd pick me up before sunset. When I heard shouting at the gate, I was running there before I could think it wasn't him.

It was.

"Mistress," The eunuch guarding the gate blinked twice when he saw me. "The guard captain is here."

"Well, we don't want to leave him waiting. Open up!"

The gates opened. I was brimming with expectation. They opened too slowly. My heart pounded as if it would burst out of my chest. For the second time today. Then I saw a flash of blonde hair. It could use some moisturizer. The face with deep angles and the rest of the muscular body. He was wearing a brown tunic with golden flax embroidering, trousers, a deep blue tabard with the town's heraldry. His sword hanging from his belt and leather bracers with geometric patterns engraved on them. I could have a good look at those biceps that were as thick as my thighs.

I didn't care about the party if I could take him upstairs. Right then.

"Miss Rinaldi, you..." I missed what he was going to say. Maybe he was stunned by my killer looks.

"How do I look, Brandon. And call me Sandra, please."

"We are a bit late, I'm sorry something held me back. Three major merchants at the caravanserai died today." He glared at me.

I scoffed and huffed. How dare those dead merchants show up and ruin my date? "Oh, is that so? I heard they committed perjury."

"You are well-informed, miss... Sandra. Come, let's go."

I moved to his right side and took his arm. A mischievous side of me wanted to hang on that arm and never let go. I knew he was wearing chainmail underneath the tunic by the clinking. I wanted to count each link.

"Can we start training tomorrow?" He asked.

I shook my head. "You know about the merchants that I took to the courthouse, don't you?"

"The ones that went in and never got out alive? You and dead merchants have a thing. I fear for my friend Abil-Kisu."

"Meanie!" I punched his arm. I hurt my hand. "Yeah, those. I got their business from the magistrate and now I have to sort through a ton of possessions."

"The woes of the wealthy. I understand. The day after tomorrow then. But why do you think you need to train to use a weapon. You have guards now."

"They wanted me. For some foreign prince. I don't want to be used as a political tool, Brandon. And guards can only protect you so far."

"Fair enough. We are here."

We reached the venue. It was not far from my new place.

You know those teen movies where everyone is distracted doing their things but when the female lead enters the place all heads crane to look at her? Well, that was what happened as I entered the party venue, and I felt like digging a hole to hide inside. I knew there was a reputation building around me during the last few days as I did my antics through town but that was too much. Some men were gawking at me, some women were pinching and shoving their still-gawking husbands.

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To the shy and demure Sandra Rinaldi that never gathered such attention on Earth, it was a brand new experience. In hindsight, I blame Lush, Sephora, MAC, and Co. The other world is nothing compared to the power of XXI century cosmetics. I tried my best to stand side-by-side with him.

We were in a grassy field with a colorful and huge tent illuminated by torchlight. Servers were coming and going with these massive jugs of wine, mead and ale and plates with fruits. Fresh figs, apricots, grapes, apples. Or at least something that resembled them. You know how they say, if it walks like a duck... I was starving because I skipped lunch during all that thing with the merchants. I dug in the fruit and the wine, wary of not mixing distilled with fermented drinks. I think they were all fermented but when in doubt, stick to the safe. I didn't bring a gift, couldn't even think of getting one done because of the rush. But I didn't see anyone else bringing in gifts and I did keep an eye on those that arrived after me. We weren't as late as Brandon made me think.

A blur of women came to talk to me, and I did my best to talk to them and disrespect nobody. Brendan had left me and was talking to the men here and there. The two sides didn't mix too much. The women asked about my jewelry, my makeup, my nails, my dress. Then the inevitable question came. One of those social butterflies that want to dip its proboscis on everyone's flowers accosted me.

"Why don't you have a husband? Where are your parents? What's your price?"

I looked around for my date. It isn't dating if all we do is sit girls on one side and boys on the other like some awkward junior high dance. I couldn't find him but I found a merchant that locked gaze with me. The social butterfly withdrew so this guy must be a big shot.

"Ah, so there is where she was hiding! The person that is shaking the town's very foundations! Welcome, welcome to my party, miss Rinaldi."

That guy was the host. I knew I heard his name somewhere. The magistrate said it. I quickly replayed our last conversation and remembered.

"Abil-Kisu! I am honored to be a guest at your party, and I wish all the blessings and fortune to you, your family, your business, and most importantly, your son." I told him with a saikeirei bow. This guy was the big boss of the town's merchants.

"Stand, stand, my dear. Let me delight my eyes with your beauty. I've never seen any of your people, I wonder where you are from. A kind of peerless exotic beauty. Yes! Marvelous. Please, come with me, miss Rinaldi. Would you grant this old man the pleasure of your company for a while more? Yes?"

Abil-Kisu was a bit overweight, had a short beard but his hair reached his shoulders. He had a lot of earrings and necklaces and I wondered if his beard was short exactly to show her necklaces.

"I see you have a good eye for necklaces. Yours is quite exquisite! I wonder what goldsmith could forge such a masterpiece. To pull the gold in a triangular wire like that, it is almost impossible to figure out how it was done." I was about to answer when we stopped next to a group of craftsmen. Abil-Kisu spoke. "Master Lu-Ninurta, what do you think of this lovely lady's jewelry?"

I froze. An old man, old enough to pair up with Nanna looked at my necklace and earrings. His eyes went wide. "That... That gold thread! It is splendid!" He took a monocle and examined my jewelry. "Triangular. And there don't seem to be any seams! And that teardrop ruby, it is like it was born in the gold. I can't see the clasps. Tell me, miss. Is it made by a goldsmith in your home country?"

I bowed to him. I made sure I stopped at keirei. "Master, the production methods of this necklace are not standard. I made this thread with sorcery."

Abil-Kisu broke the awkward silence, "A girl of many talents. Tell me, is there any way we can see it?"

I nodded. "Yes, let me get some gold." I summoned my purse where I keep the large gold mina coins. I opened the clasp and took one of the big ones, closing and storing the purse.

"That's... convenient," Abil-Kisu commented. I noticed he had a coin in his hand.

I plucked a small piece of the coin and then smeared the gold in my hand, molding it like play-dough. I looked around and one of the craftsmen had an ornate dagger.

"Could I hold your dagger for a moment, master?"

He didn't blink twice before taking out the dagger and handing it over hilt-first. The dagger had a vine pattern etched on the blade. I waved my palm with the gold leaf and filled the etchings with a thin layer of gold. The second pass of my finger removed the excess. Decompose forced the oxygen out from the oxidation layer and without anything else between the gold and the iron of the dagger, the two metals joined. The etchings were now golden. I also coated the pommel with a very thin layer of gold. I still had a sizeable nugget in my hand. Turning the dagger around, I presented it to the owner.

He smiled. "I'll treasure this gift." And sheathed the dagger.

I also did the triangular gold thread, trying to make it even thinner than before by pressing my fingers tighter. The more I worked the gold, the easier it became to lock in the particular resonance. I turned the nugget into several meters of fine gold thread. Then I coiled and bundled the thread in three parts, braiding them together and fusing the ends. It was the adequate length for a man's wristband. I finally sighed.

"Master Lu-Ninurta, I can't do the clasp. Could you please help me?"

He smiled. Yes, I was giving him some face. But I couldn't make a decent clasp anyway. I gave him the piece and he examined it. Then he fished in his pocket for two metal loops and a set of jeweler's pliers. He twisted the loops so they would only to through one another in a certain position that was impossible to happen while they rested one against the other. He handed them to me and I welded it to the iron. I presented the piece to Abil-Kisu.

"Honorable Abil-Kisu. In my land, it is custom to bring a gift to the host. I hope you accept this with my wishes of wellbeing for your son."

He took the delicate gold chain in his hands. it was pure gold and the strands were very thin. "I'll treasure it, miss Rinaldi. But I took too much of your time. See, the women want to talk to you."

He led me back to the female camp and left me there. I joined some conversations here and there trying to see what kind of subjects the women talked about. Dresses. Children. Jewelry. Children. Children. Who was marrying who? How much the bride sold for. When the subject inevitably reached yours truly, I'd slip and join another group.

"I haven't seen the baby yet," I told to the young woman with a protruding belly I was currently talking about.

"Oh, you won't. The baby won't be seen by anyone but family for the first season of its life," She told me.

From a place where almost any baby has already registered in half a dozen facial recognition systems for life before they even left the hospital to one where it is locked away for three months. If I had to guess, it was to avoid contamination and let the mother nurse the baby and give her milk time to imprint her immune system on him. No vaccines, poor hygiene, abysmal sanitation. I think I got used to the smell of human refuse by now. I only notice it when I think of it.

To endure this constant bombardment of female conversation, I was indulging quite a bit on the wine that was flowing like it would be endless. Another woman comes in the circle and shoots her question out of the blue.

"If you allow me a slight indiscretion, I heard several people saying you are a runaway princess. Is that true?"

I could see the other's ears doubling in size. I signal to another server and get a refill of wine to get some time to think about an answer. Liquid courage.

"I'm not running away. I was invited to live here. Sorry I can't say more."

"Some say you run away from an engagement with an ugly man."

"Who wouldn't?" I quipped. "No, seriously, I wasn't engaged to anyone."

A girl that was also flying from group to group and getting very close to the men sometimes approached. She should be fifteen or sixteen. "I'm not engaged to anyone too. Tell me, big sister, Sandra, are you marrying captain Brandon?"

My heart fluttered then sank in the same heartbeat. No, I wasn't. I looked around and Brandon was talking to some scarred men whose demeanor screamed 'I'm a soldier!' I was completely left behind. I needed more booze.

Nanna's warning returned. Brandon was a traditionalist. "No. Not yet, at least," my tongue slipped my true feelings. Would it come to choosing whom I'd be enslaved to? I didn't think I was ready for fifty shades of Brandon.

"But you are rather old already, big sister," The homewrecker continued. "Wouldn't you worry if you could birth children or not if you wait for too long?"

"Yes, I was wondering exactly that," a pregnant lady picked up the pace. "How old are you, Sandra?"

I was saved from the crowd of repopulation-centric women by the timely arrival of the third old male I've seen so far. This one was wearing robes and had a politician vibe. The crowd of women showed him great deference. His gaze was set on me as he approached.

"Miss Rinaldi. What a fortuitous meeting. Greetings. I am Bero-Mabii, priest of Tarhun. I was looking forward to meeting you, yes." He spoke in his paused way as if he had to think about the next sentence after he spoke the last one. His pauses were just a bit shorter than the required for the other speaker to turn in, however. It was kind of irritating.

The server came with the jug of wine but I pulled my mug away. It would not bode well to make the priest wait while I further suppress my superego with poison. Too bad my blessing makes it go away too fast.

"A pleasure to meet you, priest Bero-Mabii," Out of options on how to address him, I curtsied. At least in my mind, it was better than offering him a handshake.

"Yes, yes. See, I was wondering where were you from. I traveled a lot in the years of my youth and I've never seen people like yours."

Yes, I doubt you'd find someone with the perfect mix of Mediterranean and Nipponic features like me, thank you very much.

"I'm from a place very far away. It took me an unreasonable amount of years to get here. I doubt you've heard of my people."

"And how are your people called, miss?"

I was almost blurting out 'millennials' as a joke. But why keep the charade? I've shown the iPad to the magistrate, that I could shape gold to the craftsmen, I thought 'what the heck, let's go with the truth or I'll be in deep trouble later on.' and spoke the truth.

"Earthlings, priest. I'm from another world, brought here by Tarhun's will. You could say I am only alive because Tarhun wished so."

He smiled with his eyes and clapped his hands. He seemed genuinely pleased with my answer.

"Yes, Tarhun is mighty. We are only alive because he allows us to. You are very wise, miss Rinaldi," He exulted. I guess there was an implied 'for a foreigner' hidden after 'wise' but who was I to point that out.

And then the realization hit me.

The frigging god WAS A REALLY GOOD SHOT WITH HIS LIGHTNING, WASN'T HIM? I'm sorry for the caps but even now as I write this I feel the indignation rise up my throat in a wave of bile.

The hypothesis that he killed me "accidentally" became awfully remote to me. That coupled with the mental suppression to make me accept the deal meant God Tarhun had a purpose for me. Not in the omnipotent Abrahamic deity back on earth sense when the priest would say every Sunday "God has a plan for you" but in a way more fungible way. Yes, fungible. Tarhun expected profit from my presence. He already was, by instilling the rightful deific fear in the hearts of men as he smote left and right around me.

I needed a drink. Something stronger than the lady wine. I sighed and clapped the priest's shoulder. "Father Bero-Mabii, I was stabbed in the heart today. Tarhun's blessing saved me. I was thrown in the river by the magistrate, Tarhun's blessing saved me. But getting stabbed in the heart hurts too much. I want some of the strong liquor the men are drinking but I am scared of going there. Would you please go with me, father?"

That awkward moment you realize you were drunk and embarrassed but then you need to get even drunker because your date dumped you to talk to some military folk and the women are harassing you because you are not churning babies in your tumbling baby-maker.

I went with the priest and he brought me to the place where master Samus and the magistrate were. A server came and I got a refill from their drink. A dark ale. Down it goes.

"Oh. Miss Rinaldi. You are almost as beautiful as Ishtar. How pleasant to have you join us," Master blacksmith Samus greeted me. "I heard of your gold-shaping stunt. Can you do that with other metals as well?"

I smiled and stared at him for a few moments. "Thank you. It is good that someone noticed!" I slurred. "And for your information, master blacksmith Samus, I can do it with any metal, even some you never heard of. I bet it would take millennia before your people even know the presence of these metals."

"I'd like to see it. I wonder why we didn't find them."

I was on the second mug of the dark, strong ale. "They are everywhere. Even in the gravel of this yard, I bet. The problem is that getting them to separate from the ore is very difficult and you don't know how." I told him with my nose pointing up. I was being very smug.

"And you know how to obtain them?"

"Yes. I can use my power. There are other ways too but we need tools that just don't exist. Can I have a pebble?"

Some lower-ranked participant of the conversation gave me a pebble. I removed the silicon, making it flow into a lump on my other hand. I was left with a powdery mix of oxides. I focused for a while and removed a metallic pellet.

"I believe this is tin. There's more here," I touched the dust with my finger and pulled a yellow flake. "Here, a flake of gold that was in the pebble. The rest is probably aluminum."

Truly enough I removed a pellet of aluminum a bit larger than the tin. The rest of the dust, I discarded.

"Your sorcery is very versatile. Mine is only good to control the heat of the forge, I'm afraid."

I gave him a thumbs up.

"That's awesome! If you can control the temperature, you can get all kinds of hardening and tempering going on! I bet that's why your alloys are so well-made! I was amazed when I had to Decompose them!"

"You know a lot about metals for a lady," Another man nearby quipped.

I glared at him and glanced around. The priest escaped. I glared back at the man.

"For a lady," I snorted. "You better beware of offending this lady here, the magistrate doesn't want more trouble from me," The magistrate cleared his throat. "And your contempt is insulting if I must say. I have thousands of talents even before I was brought here. Against my will. Oops. Forget that last part, please."

They laughed. I went for another mug of ale but someone held my wrist. Brandon.

"Oh, hello there, handsome! Glad you joined us."

"You've drunk enough," He told me.

I saluted. "Yessir. Roger Wilco." He made a puzzled face because I said it in English. I reverted to Akkadian. "Where have you been? I missed you, you know?"

"Talking. Why aren't you with the women?"

I narrowed my eyes and stared at him. I was about to get in a lot of trouble by saying something rode about the female mentality of their civilization and other things too liberal for their stage of development when the host came to defuse the situation.

"Hello again, miss Rinaldi. We need some entertainment now, would you like to join?" I misheard him. He actually said 'we will have some entertainment...'

"Okay, I can sing a song from my world if you want." I was lucky they had a context-based language. The word for 'world' was the same for 'people'.

"Oh, wonderful! Wonderful," Abil-Kisu clapped his hands loudly, gathering the attention of everyone. "Attention, please! Lady Rinaldi is going to sing for us. Please, this way."

I went to the center of the area prepared for the entertainment. I saw some jugglers and acrobats waiting in a side tent away from the spectators. I gave them thumbs up and they replied most probably because they were just mimicking me.

I summoned my Bluetooth speakers on the ground behind me and synched them with the iPod. I selected the song in the Karaoke app and pressed play, holding the mic near my mouth. The piano riff of the intro played out of the speakers and the song created by Freddie Perren and Dino Fekaris made its debut in another world.

"First I was afraid, I was petrified..."

I sang without taking my eyes off of Brandon. A song of independence and self-reliance illustrated exactly my state-of-mind at that moment. Left to fend for myself against a pride of baby-making lionesses and underestimated by the men. I didn't have Gloria Gaynor's velvety depth but I didn't crumble. I didn't lay down and die. The song ended and the app played the clapping track because I scored ninety-six. The crowd recognized the sound and I got a standing ovation. Just because they were already standing.

For someone piss-drunk, ninety-six was great.

I curtsied and stored my devices. I'd just started another trend because I remember seeing some of the ladies trying to imitate me. I later learned they thought it was a love song. They weren't wrong but it was a song of self-love, not love for Brandon.

The big blonde captain was blushing. I swear he was. At least I didn't go for 'It's raining men'. Or Thriller. I'd totally do the zombie dance and die of embarrassment later. No, really. I can't dance.

I withdrew to a vacant spot next to Brandon and saw the spunky recently-molted teen girl biting her thumb. I grabbed his arm. Mine! Gollum.

The jugglers and acrobats entered and did their number. I clapped like a child in the circus for the first time. The entertainment ended and we entered the main tent, removing our shoes before stepping on the Persian rugs. I stored my boots instead. If only I could summon them already in place...

There were several circles of pillows around low tables on the rugs. The central and biggest circle was for Abil-Kisu and his wife, and the guests were finding their circles based on levels of influence. Brendan and I were going for the second row when the host called us out.

"Captain, lady Rinaldi. Please sit here with us."

Fortunately, we didn't have to displace anyone. Once all the guests were seated, he clapped his hands three times and the slaves entered carrying trays of food. I was ravenous and assaulted the food like someone that almost died. That reminded me that I needed a fence. And who better than the biggest and kindest merchant baron in the land?

"Brandon," I whispered to my date. "Is it rude to talk about business in the middle of the feast?"

"What kind of business?" He asked, wary.

Wary of what, I didn't know. Everything was so perfectly smooth so far!

"I have some items to sell, I was wondering if Abil-Kisu would buy them."

"You should wait until tomorrow. You are in no condition to negotiate."

He had a point.

"And whose fault is that?" I asked just to give him a chance to come clean and repent.

Brandon stopped eating and looked at me. "Woman, I know your game. And the only winning move is to not play."

Spoilsport.

I got a refill of dark ale and downed it in one go. If Brandon wasn't going to play my game, I'd play the 'drink when he's stupid' game. And I was a hundred rounds behind.

After saying my goodbyes to the hosts, I left the party with Brendan.

"Now I understand what you said about wanting to avoid being used as a political tool," He told me after walking a couple blocks in silence.

I didn't remember putting on my boots. Everything after that was a kind of a blur. I felt tired.

"Why do I feel there's a but in there?"

"But," he continued, "I think it is impossible. People will try to garner your support for their political cause. A neighbor kingdom might attack to secure you and your blessings for them."

"It seems no matter which world we are at, humanity is petty."

"Also," He stopped.

"Just say it. It can't get worse."

"Okay. The paint on your face is running."

Maybe it could.