Aglaia seemed to push the thought out of her mind and turned back to the task at hand. She smiled, and it actually seemed genuine. “You’ve pleased me greatly, girl. I’ll remember this. I know I’m a hard mistress, but if you perform well, you’ll be rewarded well. Today, two rewards. First, I’ll let you name one.”
It could be a test, a trap. A slave knew there were certain rewards you didn’t ask for. Asking too much made you seem lazy or ungrateful or greedy. But if your mistress were in a good mood, she might change your life on a whim—for the better. “Erase my father’s debt,” Teia said before she thought too much.
“How much does he owe?” Lady Crassos asked.
“Seven hundred danars.” It was two years’ wages for a laborer. Her father spent everything now simply paying the interest on it.
“Seven hundred danars? That is a substantial sum. How did your father run up such a massive sum? He a gambler?”
Teia ignored the patronizing tone. “He bought my sisters back.” He’d been crushed when he came back from a trade journey to find that his wife had taken up with another man, had borrowed vast sums to fund a lavish lifestyle, and lost everything he’d worked for twenty years to accumulate, including their house, furniture, jewels, and brewery. His wife had finally sold their three daughters to pay her debts. And then only part of the debts. All while he’d been gone.
“He bought them back. But not you.”
“I cost too much.” It was Teia’s fault. Her drafting had manifested after she’d been sold. If she hadn’t drafted, everything would be different. Her mother had only been furious that she had sold Teia too cheaply.
After everything, Kallikrates hadn’t even left his wife. Said she’d gone mad. Said it was his own fault that he’d married a woman who couldn’t bear a trader’s long absences.
“Do you know how much this bracelet cost me?” Aglaia asked. She held out a wrist, bangled with some ugly golden glittering thing.
“No, my lady.” Guessing too high would be as bad as guessing too low.
“Guess.” It was an order.
“Six, seven thousand danars?” Teia said. It couldn’t be worth more than five thousand. Her father would have gotten it for four.
Aglaia’s eyebrow rose for a moment. “Well done, little flower. I got it for five thousand six hundred, and I drove a hard bargain. I thought it would complement a necklace I have. It doesn’t.” Her expression made it clear that today was the last time she would ever wear it.
Teia said nothing. She knew better than to hope.
Aglaia said, “No, no, of course not. Seven hundred danars, for collecting snuff boxes and trinkets and a bit of information? That’s far too rich. I will keep it in mind, though. Something else…?”
“Training in paryl,” Teia said quickly. If she got in, the Blackguard would probably go to the expense of finding and hiring a private tutor for her. Otherwise, she’d have to wait until she was a gleam, or a third-year, when more specialized Chromeria training started. That was too long.
“Ah,” Aglaia said. “That might well be more expensive in the long run than erasing your father’s debts. But… it would make you more likely to get into the Blackguard, wouldn’t it? An investment.” She thought about it for a moment, while Teia’s heart pounded. “Yes. Done.” She smiled. “And an excellent request. Shows a good mind. For a slave. I want you to know, I’m quite pleased; if this weren’t our first meeting, I’d skip the beating. But I can’t have you thinking I’m soft. Strip down to your shift, girl. I like to keep one layer of cloth on so I don’t leave marks, but there’s no reason to give you more padding than necessary. Beatings can be so tiring in a stuffy little room.”
Teia stripped, and Aglaia Crassos carefully beat her horrendously from her calves to her shoulders, and then, when Teia thought she was finished, she beat the front of her body from her collarbones to her shins.
Sometimes Teia fantasized about not weeping through a beating, of being as hard and implacable as Commander Ironfist or Watch Captain Karris White Oak, but she wept freely. Proud slaves were stupid slaves. And it hurt too much anyway. Though she claimed dispassion, once Aglaia Crassos got going, sweating as she beat the girl, her face lit up with a glow that wasn’t wholly perspiration. A small, fierce joy lit up her eyes when she snapped the crop across Teia’s breasts one last time at the end.
Aglaia Crassos rang her little bell and Gaeros poked his head in the door immediately. Teia collapsed to the floor, every part of her aching. Gaeros carried in a platter with a goblet of chilled wine in it.