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.
All that was fine. It was information Lady Crassos could learn through other avenues. But that wasn’t good enough, and Teia knew it.
Feeling sick to her stomach, Teia also told her mistress that Commander Ironfist had told her that there were two trainees he couldn’t let fail out of the Blackguard: Cruxer and Kip. She omitted herself.
That was obviously news to Aglaia. “That’s good,” she said. “That’s very good. Is there… anything else?”
“I train with Kip, after midnight, in a special room low in the Prism’s Tower.” Adrasteia shrugged. “The commander wants him to be good enough to make it into the Blackguard by himself.”
Hold back what you can about Kip, too. Don’t tell her about the dagger he has hidden. Keep what you can of your soul.
“Good enough,” Aglaia said. “Anything else?”
Give everything else. A slave, not a hero. “I saw someone else using paryl when I was out on one of my special jobs.”
Aglaia’s eyebrows shot up, and she made Teia tell her everything about it.
“An assassination,” she said. “Never liked her anyway, but that someone would… hmm. I’ll have to see if she died. Worrying, though, either way.” She didn’t explain who she was talking about. Teia knew better than to ask.