“This isn’t hot, Gaeros,” she said.

The man apologized profusely and took it away. He returned almost immediately, put a hot cup in front of her. “We’ll need privacy,” the woman said.

“Yes, Mistress.” He left and shut the door after himself.

“So,” the woman said.

“So?” Teia asked.

“I’m your owner, my name is Lady Aglaia Crassos. You may call me Mistress.”

“My owner is Lady Lucretia Verangheti.”

“There is no Lady Verangheti. Or I am Lady Verangheti, depending on how you want to look at it. My family has enemies who would block us from placing slaves in certain households or positions—say, the Blackguard. The fiction of ‘Lady Verangheti’ helps me circumvent such pettiness.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I don’t mean to be rude, but out of loyalty to my mistress…” There had to be some way to say this. “Hrm…”

“You don’t believe me,” Lady Crassos said. She sounded amused, which Teia hoped was good. “It would be an interesting bluff, would it not? Of course, it would only work on slaves who never meet their mistress—meaning my slaves. Sad.” She pulled out a single piece of vellum and handed it over. It was Teia’s title; she recognized it instantly. Attached to it on a separate sheet was a writ of transfer, signed by Lucretia Verangheti and Aglaia Crassos. The handwriting was the same.

It took Teia a few moments to understand. If Aglaia wanted to keep her ownership of Teia secret, she couldn’t own Teia’s title under her real name or anyone who bothered to inquire could find out to whom Teia belonged. But she needed to have the writ of transfer already finished in case something came up that required her to prove ownership quickly—so she kept the writ and simply didn’t file it at the Chromeria.

Teia’s throat tightened. Why would the woman reveal her ownership now?

“How good of a liar are you, girl?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Simple question. If you’re willful, you will be beaten exquisitely.”

Exquisitely? “I’m pretty good, when I try. Mistress.”

Aglaia Crassos’s face lit up. “Good. Good. Exactly what my sources have told me. Continue to answer honestly and your service for me need not be wholly unpleasant.”

Fear stabbed through Teia. Not wholly?

Aglaia looked around, as if searching for something. She rang her little bell, and the serving man instantly came in. “My crop,” she said.

Gaeros knuckled his forehead and disappeared. He was back in moments. He presented her with a riding crop, then turned his back.

She cracked the riding crop low against his back. He jerked, but said nothing.

Aglaia dismissed him with a wave. “My slaves must anticipate my needs. I believe in disciplining you personally when you don’t. When a lady hands off discipline to someone else out of some misplaced sense of daintiness, she can’t know if her discipline is being enforced with too much mercy or too much gusto. And slaves—like children or hounds—are best disciplined immediately. I will not always have an enforcer with me, but I carry my strong right arm wherever I go. So when we conclude our interview today, I will beat you. I think it’s important for you to know how firm of a hand your mistress has. It will also let me know how easily you bruise, in case I have to beat you someday before you’re to be seen in public.”

Teia swallowed. The weight of dread made her knees quiver. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Kip Guile is your partner in the Blackguard training.”

“Yes, Mistress. Your pardon, but he was disowned weeks ago. He’s no longer a Guile.”

“I’m aware of this. But I have reason to believe that Kip may be welcomed back into his family when Gavin Guile returns.”

Teia ducked her head, made her face show contrition. She was a slave, not a fool.

“Adrasteia, my brother was the governor of Garriston. He was trying to save that worthless city when Gavin Guile shamed and murdered him and made him look like a traitor. And now my slave is partnered with his bastard. A bastard about whom he apparently cares. These are facts.”

Teia scowled briefly, not sure what her mistress was implying. She didn’t hold the expression. Some owners didn’t like to see unpleasant expressions on their slaves. She also didn’t smile with the vacuous impression that she was an idiot that so many other slaves had mastered. Aglaia had said she prized intelligence. It might even be true. Best to reinforce her mistress’s feeling of superiority without overplaying it.

Aglaia rolled her eyes, like Teia was hopelessly stupid. “I want you to keep my ownership of you secret, understood? If it’s found that I own you, because of the history between Gavin’s family and mine, you’d likely be expelled from the Blackguard and made worthless to me. I’ll sell you to a brothel at the silver mines in Laurion after I vent my frustrations on you. Understood?”

The silver mines were notorious, the first option for slaves who committed serious but not capital crimes, and the last resort for slave owners exasperated with slaves who rebelled or fled repeatedly. The mines were dangerous, the other slaves more so, and the brothels were worse. They were reserved for the use of the depraved gaolers and their favorite slaves: the best of the worst. Teia had a friend, Euterpe, whose owners had lost everything during a drought. Finding the local brothels already full with slaves and even free women who’d sold themselves into slavery so they could eat, Euterpe’s owners had sworn to her that she would return after only three months. She’d been returned five months later, after her owners finally recovered. She never did. Never smiled. Flinched at the touch of any man, even her father, who’d gone mad and hanged himself.

Laurion was a curse among slaves. A byword. A threat whose mere existence was enough to keep most slaves in line.

Aglaia Crassos didn’t mean it as a threat. Her eyes had as much pity as a rattlesnake’s. “You think I wouldn’t do that when you’re worth a fortune if I let the Blackguard buy you?”

Teia licked her lips, but couldn’t think of any response that mightn’t plunge her further into hell.

“My brother’s death means I’ll inherit twice as much money now as I thought I would a few months ago. Vengeance is sweeter than gold. Do you know the girls in Laurion service up to fifty men every day? Fifty! I didn’t believe it myself, but I’ve known several people who’ve sworn it’s true. They give the girls a measure of olive oil every day. Can you guess why?”

Teia blinked stupidly, ice in her guts.

“Because otherwise they get destroyed inside. Death by cock sounds so romantic, doesn’t it? But I’m sure it’s not. Fifty each day. And a pretty girl like you… you might do even more. Not many pretty young girls there. Do you understand me?”

Teia’s knees felt weak. She nodded. She had to get away.

“So now that we understand each other, tell me, have you seen anything worthwhile?”

Teia gave her report. Kip was fat, had few friends, spent most of his time in the library, apparently spending all his time reading about some game. He’d been summoned several times to speak with the Red, and had seemed distraught afterward. He thought the Red wanted to destroy him. The old man had taken away Kip’s right to go to practicum in order to make Kip seem inept when Gavin got back. Teia had seen Kip draft green and blue. He didn’t sleep well.