While Cutter’s mind, sodden with alcohol, wandered through all those thoughts that were anything but self-pitying. Not a woman anywhere…
Lady Challice Vidikas sat at one end of the table, Shardan Lim on her left, Hanut Orr to her right. For this night she wore emerald green silks, the short coat tight-fitting, collarless to expose Iter unadorned, powdered throat and low tut to reveal her scented breasts. Her hair was tied up, speared through with silver pins. Rouge blushed her cheeks. Kohl thickened her lashes. Earrings depended from her ears in tumbling, glittering array, the green of emerald and the blue of sapphire. The coat’s short sleeves revealed her bared arms, the skin soft, smooth, slightly plump, unstained by the sun. Leggings of brushed kid leather covered her lower limbs and on her feet was the latest style of sandals, the one with a high peglike heel.
Amber wine glimmered in crystal goblets. Candlelight painted soft and gold every detail in a pool that faded into gloom beyond the three at the table, so that the servants moved in shadows, appearing only to clear dishes, rearrange settings, and deliver yet more food.
She but picked at her meal, wanting to be somewhat drunk for what would come at the end of this night. The only question she was unable to answer was… which one first?
Oh, there was sexual excitement-she could not deny that. Both men were hale and attractive, though in very different ways. And both equally obnoxious, but she thought she could live with that. For certain, her heart would play no role in what was to come, no giving over, no confusion that might lead to conflicted feelings, or feelings of any sort.
She could keep this simple. Everyone made,use of what they had, didn’t they, especially when what they had proved desirable to others. This was how power accrued, after all. One man here, right or left, would have her this night-had they already decided which one between them? A toss of the knuckles. A wager in flesh. She was not sure-the evening was early yet and thus far she’d seen no overt signs of competition.
Hanut spoke, ‘Shardan and I have been discussing you all afternoon, Lady Challice.’
‘Oh? How flattering.’
‘It was on the night of my uncle’s murder, wasn’t it? At Lady Simtal’s estate-you were there,’
‘I was, yes, Hanut.’
‘That night, young Gorlas Vidikas saved your life.’
‘Yes.’
‘And so won your heart,’ said Shardan Lim, smiling behind his goblet as he sipped.
‘You make it sound an easy thing,’ she said, ‘winning my heart.’