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“You expect me to believe that?” Atticul drawls. “And what about since he brought you to his home? Does he have you serve him in his bed?”

Lyr thinks of the orchard. Then thinks of the fact he has not seen Damon for more days than he can count. “No, Your Grace. I am not for his bed. Master Damon does not bed slaves. I work in the kitchens. I do not go above stairs. I never see him.”

“I am aware of what he claims he has done with you. He has to say that, of course. I am sure that Emperor Selim will not allow Damon Darekul to keep a male pleasure slave.” He smiles. “I have made sure he knows what Damon the Bastard brought home from his war.”

“I am not a pleasure slave,” Lyr says, indignant, then checks himself. “Not for my Master. Not in Attar.”

Atticul looks at him. His eyes are narrow. “You lie to me, slave.”

“I do not. Damon, my Master, does not desire me so. You saw yourself how he refused to take me in the hall of Blackstone Castle. He has a beautiful wife.” Lyr finds that saying those words stings. Damon ran from him, back to the arms of his wife. Every time Lyr sees Inez in the kitchens of the Manor, his heart aches. She is truly beautiful, Damon’s beautiful wife. His high-born wife meant to bear his sons.

“He does not desire his wife,” says Atticul in a low voice. “I know that man. I have known him a long time. Even after he was sent away, he came home to visit us sometimes. When he was nineteen he was already a war hero. Emperor Selim hailed him as the saviour of Azuria. My father had him sit on his right hand as his eldest son. A bastard-born thing like him. Everyone was so delighted by him. You’d think he’d suppressed Pluma-Ferris alone with his bare hands. But I saw him. I caught him fucking a stablehand. A hideous sight. That’s why he hates me. I have seen him for what he truly is. A base animal that ruts in dirt. He is sly filth. So tell me how he fucks you.”

“He has not. Even if he is sly and desires men as you say, perhaps he does not desire me.” Lyr feels his throat prickle. “I am a small, damaged thing.”

“Hmm,” Atticul looks Lyr up and down again as if assessing his attractiveness. “Then you must make him desire you. You are a whore. I’m sure you have skills you could use to seduce a man like him. Do what you did to King Ramel.” Atticul sucks on his pipe again. The moonleaf smoke curls from his mouth as he exhales. His tone, when he speaks, is conversational. “It is a sin of the body to even desire such an aberration. A creature like you, built for sin, it might be hard for you to understand, but the idea of someone like him, someone with his foul tendencies, rising to such power. Having the ear of Emperor Selim, being treated as if he is part of the royal line. Such a thing is a threat to Azuria itself.” He holds the pipe out to Lyr.

Lyr takes it. He inhales the moonleaf. It’s as good. Harsh on the back of his throat but soothing to his blood. It makes him feel more confident, less fearful. “As you say, I am not of this world. Why would you even ask my assistance in this? What could I even do, if you want me to state he touched me on The Azuria Ascendant or that he takes me to his bed, then you are asking me to lie.”

“You are a slave. The statement of a creature such as you would not be enough to topple a man like Damon. And whatever took place on my ship could be dismissed as taking place outside Azuria. No, I need something more. I need you to seduce him. And make sure someone sees it. A witness must see him inside you.”

Lyr coughs on the moonleaf smoke. How could he possibly do this? Even if Damon was speaking to him, this would be an impossibility. “Your Grace.” He hands back the pipe. “Damon is my Master. He saved me in Pellex when you would have had me put to the sword. Why would I do this for you?”

“I’m not a fool, whore, I know you require persuasion.”

“I will not take your coin to hurt Master Damon,” Lyr says tightly.

“I have no intention of giving coin to a creature like you.” Atticul pauses, smokes some more moonleaf staring at Lyr with dark eyes. His eyes have silver speckles, like Damon’s. Atticul inhales a plume of smoke in Lyr’s direction. “Those other whores from Ramel’s harem are your friends, aren’t they? Opeth, you like her. I enjoy her but she is my property. I could hurt her. I could have her flogged. I could have my men all use her.”

Lyr swallows. Opeth dressed his wounds after he had been with Jareleezi and sang sweet songs to him. Without her he would never have survived in Pellex, he is sure. He would do anything to protect her.

But he wonders if Opeth would want that. If she knew of this demand. What would she ask of him?

Firmly, he says, “Opeth has endured worse men than you.”

Atticul looks at Lyr, enraged, “You refuse me, slave?”

“Damon Darekul is my Master. He has treated me kindly.”

“You know,” says Atticul in a low nasty tone, “Damon is taking a great risk keeping you in his manor house. Someone should make sure the Rose Court are aware of exactly what you are.”

“It is no crime against Zai to have a kitchen slave, Your Grace.”

“Indeed,” Atticul says, tone light but face hard. “But you are not a kitchen slave, are you? Now get out of my carriage.”

“Very well, Your Grace,” Lyr says as he moves towards the door.

He has a hand on it when Atticul says, “You will regret your defiance, whore. I will insist you are removed from that manor house and executed.”

But Lyr already has the carriage door open. He jumps down into the narrow street and races towards the market.

11

DAMON

Damon knows he is a strong man. He has proved it time and again. The greatest warrior the Azurian Empire has ever seen. Nevertheless, his own private battle to stay away from Lyr is the hardest he has ever fought.

He assumed it would just take a little resolve to obey the Immurite. And that with some time he would forget Lyr. He would be the man he was less than a moon’s turn ago. A man who had never met the beautiful slave from Klish.