| Recueil | Smut |
|---|---|
| Livre | My (fancy) life as a slave |
| Type | Chapitre |
| État | Brouillon |
Double dare
"That'll be three hundred golds."
Would it kill him to say 'please'? Sure, I'm just a slave, but my mistress is ten feet away.
I glance at her over my shoulder. She seems very worried today. She's looking out the window, as if she was expecting an ambush or something.
It's been weeks since our little public stunt with Ashby, and we've done nothing in in public the meantime to justify this paranoia. I want to ask her but I know better. If she wanted to share it she would have.
"Three. Hundred. Gold."
Right, I almost forgot. I search the purse Madam Kalista entrusted me with, and pay the rude artisan. I lift the heavy machinery we just bought, and turn to exit.
"Madam? We can leave now."
She snaps back to reality.
"Oh shit! Sorry, Nasué. Give me that, it's to heavy for you to carry."
She relieve me of the contraption. I don't really get what's it for, but from what I understand it's a kind of device to observe small thing. Like a magnifying glass, but to see the tiniest things ever.