safely in bed, Corische found her by the fire. Lately, he had begun to dress like Rashed and now wore well-tailored breeches and a dark orange tunic, his chain mail abandoned.
"Do not forget your place, my lady" he said sarcastically. "I was displeased at supper."
"Truly?" She raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows and watched him take in the sight of her low-necked, black gown and plaited chocolate hair. "That is because you are not noble and could not share in our discussion. You are not even ancient." Her tone remained even and polite. "I know Rashed believes you to be old, but his good heart is easily fooled. What were you in life, my lord! A mercenary? A caravan guard? However did you escape your own master?"
Her goading struck a chord, and he stepped back, voice ragged. "You will not speak to me this way."
"Yes, my lord."
She could not disobey, but she would now openly despise him.
It took a little more time for Corische to fully grasp what she had become, and in turn, he began losing his contentment. More often than not, his frustration caused him to behave like a mannerless thug. Teesha, so much the noble in all things that mattered now, made him look coarse and low when they were seen together. No matter how he tried, he couldn't catch up on the few years she'd spent training herself while he played at his rank like an uneducated soldier. He reacted with anger, threatening her into submission, which she readily gave because she knew it wormed into him even sharper. If she altered herself and began looking and behaving like Teesha the serving girl again, how would his noble acquaintances respond? She was the only true hold he had upon his place in rank and society.
He changed tactics and began anew. First came the compliments whispered in her ear at feasts for guests—and all watching saw the eagerness in his eyes and the revulsion in hers, mixed with a touch of well-played fear. Then came the gifts, such as a pearl necklace shaped like petals he presented her at a holiday dance given by a neighboring lord. She flinched with a shudder as he put it around her neck, her eyes like a doe's running from the hunter. And last, and only once, in private he tried to confess how fond he'd grown of her—how deeply fond—and was answered by her flat and cold expression.
Corische began going on long hunts, sometimes staying out all night, only to arrive home in time to beat the dawn.
If Teesha felt even the slightest sorrow regarding her existence, it only involved Edwan, who watched somewhere unseen. But she hid it away carefully, especially when she began to play seriously with Rashed.
By now, it was no secret to any in the household that he adored her in a white knight manner. For all his passionless ways, Teesha had made it so. She sewed him fine clothes, comforted him with kind words, and took over mundane tasks like arranging for his laundry. She made a point of seeing to his needs first. Stepping up the process, she began to sometimes approach him as he worked on "accounts, placing a tiny hand on his shoulder while speaking with him. As always, she pushed aside thoughts about the solid feel of his collarbone and reminded herself that he was her tool. When she was alone again, Edwan appeared in her room, on the verge of despair.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Seducing that desert man."
"We need him, Edwan." She spoke flatly and calmly, without anger or sorrow. "Can I drive a stake through Corische's heart? Can you? Can you lift the bar from the doors?"
Her husband moaned and vanished in a flash. She regretted his pain, but the situation couldn't be helped. They needed Rashed.
The next night, her master rose and left at full sundown. She sat by the fire pit, sewing. When Rashed walked in, she smiled at him. He nodded, turned to leave, and then stopped.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Sewing a table runner."
Rashed shook his head as he stepped up to stand in front of her, knowing she was well aware of what he meant.
"I know you despise Corische. But there are aspects of him you don't know. He is glorious in battle. That is where his power lies."
"Is that why you followed him?"
Rashed looked hard at her, perhaps finally suspicious. "Do you honestly want to hear this? I thought you cared little for