Iris woke up slowly at first, her long lashes fluttering in a rapid, batting motion. ‘Whose crotch is this?’ She wondered with the banal bleariness of someone not yet awake. The moment the importance of the question hit her she began to struggle, the arm over her body, the feel of his thighs, and the sight of his morning erection visible through his pants, it all threw her off so much that she panicked for a moment. She flailed until she was seated and holding her hand over her breast to still her racing heartbeat.

It woke Gottfried just as rapidly, and she chuckled a little before giving him an awkward smile. “I’m sorry… I’m not supposed to do that.”

“Do what?” Gottfried asked with a smirk .

“Smack my clients… fall asleep on the job with my head in their laps, keep them uncomfortable all night… or… or… cry all over my patron.” She closed her eyes and drew her hands away to wring them in her lap. “Though there are people who would pay for the first few things, not many would care for the last.”

She tried to put a brave face on it, to make her phony laugh and paste on the professional smile of someone whose livelihood depended on the happiness of their company. All that fell away when Gottfried yawned, then shook his head.

“Iris… we haven’t known each other for long, not really, but even if we aren’t exactly friends, I think we’re better than patron and client. I know that,” he pointed to her face and she reflexively stepped back, “expression, that smile a moment ago, wasn’t real. I don’t treat you like a-”

“Say it.” Iris replied when he hesitated. “Which is it? A slave? Or a whore?” She asked of the most powerful fighter in the world, she stepped closer to him, eating up the ground she gave a moment ago.

“Neither, Iris, neither.” Gottfried replied and held his place.

She looked up at him with defiant eyes, and his eyes met hers in the same way. “It doesn’t matter if you say it, Gottfried, if you mean it even when it isn’t said.”

“That’s better!” Gottfried snapped, they stepped closer to one another, each one had crossed their arms before their chests, the black and white wraps dangled loosely from where they dangled at her arms and sides. “Say what you think, you’ve got no reason to lie to me.”

Iris shook her head. “You’re wrong, Gottfried. I have every reason to lie to you, the same as everyone else. Because you can ruin what’s left of my life. The only difference between me and the rest of the ones who want to use you, is I don’t want anything from you. There’s nothing you can give me that will make me happy.”

He was briefly taken aback by her directness, her eyes refused to blink beneath his steady downward stare. “Nothing?”

“Nothing. There’s no real future between a whore and a Prince. Not in this world as it is. The best I can have, the best I can hope for…” She softened and uncrossed her arms, she pressed them to his hardened chest, her hands soft against the luxuriant fabric, “is a little relief. You’re kind enough to give me that. Th-Thank you for last night. I mean it, Gottfried. I don’t know what came over me. I’ll… I’ll make it up to you.”

“We’re cohorts, comrades in a strange sort of way. And… I won’t lie, I liked it.” Gottfried admitted, he broke his defensive posture and rubbed the back of his head, the tuft of black beard over his cheek hid most, though not all the evidence of a blush. “That was new.”

Iris visibly relaxed, though she had a bit of a blush herself when she pointed to the door. “I have to clean up, so unless you want more…” She arched her black eyebrow up to him and waited. He neither said nor did anything, “Then tell Lady Lyrica you want me at your hotel today.”

“I will.” He said, then hesitated, “You have to clean up?”

She laughed a little bit, “How does m’lord believe this remains clean?”

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He furrowed his brow, “I hadn’t thought about it, it just ‘is’.”

Iris chortled and put a hand on her belly to keep the laughter from getting worse. “You really do mean it when you say you don’t think of my status, of course I clean it. If I didn’t, one of the other slaves would and that would breed resentment. If she gave me the freedom to leave a mess that the others had to take care of, it wouldn’t be long before jealousy set in. Good order and jealousy do not mix.”

“Right… I hadn’t thought about this kind of thing, the extra work you have to do…” Gottfried answered her and looked back at the dishes on the silver platter and the half empty wine bottle.

Iris kept her eyes on him.

She didn’t have to say anything. He felt the question. ‘What did you think our lives would be like?’

He cleared his throat and the hesitant and uncomfortable moment passed away. “Till then, Lord Gottfried.” She said and went to the table as he headed for the door.

When Gottfried put his hand on the knob he looked back over to her, she had her shapely back to him, it was hard not to notice the contours of her body beneath the tight muslin wraps that draped about her limbs, their earlier birdlike flight was now limp, dead, waving like hanged corpses in the breeze as she undertook the drudgery of cleaning up.

He opened the door, passed through it and reached up to touch Xagen on the shoulder. “Get your brother, we’re leaving.” Gottfried said while the sound of dishes being stacked passed slightly through the door.

The orc grunted and descended the steps ahead of the Prince. Gottfried approached the slender blonde owner of the White Stag and made his instructions crisp. “I want her sent to my suite tonight, is that clear?” He said, speaking with the authoritative voice of royalty.

“Of… Of course, my Prince. Of course if you want to keep it overnight… that isn’t an issue, not for the undefeated Prince. It’s just that it will cost…”

“You’re speaking to the Prince, and you bring up the price?” Gottfried raised an eye at her as if she’d gone completely mad.

“Only so my Lord would not think I was stealing from him, of course.” The blonde Lyrica brushed back her golden hair with a demure but sly little upturned smile.

“Of course.” He said, deadpan, “Just see it done.” He gave the order and left the establishment, falling in between his bodyguards he had to wonder, ‘How much is she even charging? I suppose it doesn’t matter, it’s not like my mother bothers to review my accounts, or that I even ever spend that much. She ‘did’ say to relax… it’s fine.’ He told himself, and returned to relax in his quarters.

Iris descended from the upper room as the door shut, the tray held in her arms, the silver plates clattering a little with every step, the first thing she saw was Lyrica summoning her with a pointed finger straight at Iris’ breast.

Iris’ steps quickened as she scurried over, the dishes rattled louder and threatened to topple off the edge before she could set them down on the dark wooden counter of the bar, sensing Lyrica’s tension, the dark haired servant went immediately to her knees.

“You’re going to be away for a few days.” Lyrica remarked, her eyes were soundly fixed down on the fallen noble.

Iris was briefly stunned to silence, the sylvan woman was somewhat less than pleased and put her hands on her hips. “I planned for you to be on stage, this will cost me, and that means it will cost you.” Her eyes were frosty, stern, but a moment later, Iris’ surprise and confusion were given clarity when Lyrica asked, “Was this some little scheme of yours to get away from here? If it was, it wouldn’t work.”

Iris furiously shook her head, “I only suggested that I might be able to shave him, it was only an offer for an evening I didn’t think…”

Lyrica rolled her eyes and threw up her hands, “No, you wouldn’t have, I suppose.” Her arms dropped to her sides, “You know better in some ways, but are still naive in others, he asked for you for several days, not just one.”

“Oh.” Iris answered, ‘Do I apologize or…?’

“He probably tired you out, so just finish your cleaning, come by my office, and then get some sleep. When you get up, get completely ready and I’ll have you delivered there before dinner.” Lyrica said, the tension vanishing as quickly as it had come.

“I- yes, My Lady.” Iris answered and rose to her feet.

She picked up the dishes, scalded her hands scrubbing and cleaning as fast as she could, and then set everything back away in its proper place before she knocked on the office door of Lyrica Tyren. “Come in.” The soft voice of the proprietress said, then Iris turned the knob and came in through the door.

Lyrica put a hand on a small wooden box. “Open it.” She ordered, and the muslin garbed slave did as she was commanded. It was a crude little box, a small arched chest with no distinguishing marks, just a little cheap brass latch secured to cheap finished pine wood. As Lyrica’s hand came away and the arch opened under Iris’ fingers. Inside were nine small clay red vials. “Silphium, a low dosage so that your performance won’t be inhibited. Drink it hours before any sexual activity to prevent conception. The cost of these will come out of the extra he pays for you.”

Iris kept her face carefully neutral while she closed the lid. “I understand… My Lady. Is there anything more?”

“No, go get some rest. You’ll need it to be at your best. Take a few muslin silk sets with you for… variety when you leave, but for now… just get sleep. When you get back, I’ll have your quarters… improved a little bit.” Lyrica gave Iris a magnanimous smile as if she’d done some enormous favor.

“Th-Thank you, my Lady.” Iris stammered.

But Lyrica didn’t acknowledge it, she looked back down at the order form on her desk. Iris was already forgotten, and so the dark haired woman closed the chest, sealed it, and walked back to her little room, to lie down in silence with the straw poking at her skin, only smiling at all when she noticed… ‘I’m lying down on my back…’ With that one little dream fulfilled without her even noticing, she was able to smile in silence at the dank ceiling for many hours ahead.