Lion Head Mesa i'll be a regular guy for you, i never said i'd do that

a silence filled the great room. qiao remained expertly still.

he was weighing his options considerably; most kings did. qiao liked to believe she presented every royal she'd met with fair options, but the truth was, the moment she walked into their orbit how much of it was their choice at all? fate wove it all -- from great king of the red sand to lonely pauper girl sold to childlock. every soul paid the cost -- every soul was bound by fate.

she would teach his sesh, train his fellahin. duties which seemed disappointingly sexist. she believed ramesses to have a hungry imagination: such duties were chores any midwife could do. "and what of you? will i only teach the women and whores?" she queried, soft. maybe it was his way of testing her mettle first. she was playing a dangerous game, toying so close to the knife that was his barely whetted appetite for anger.

"my cost is quarters of my own to store items of my trade," she gestured then to the greenbrier, which remained slumped over pelts and thin bones woven into its strands. "and a childservant. its blood does not need to be your own, although that arrangement would prove tremendously useful."