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“Thank you,” Perl says. “Please bring it in.” It seems Kerik’s new hip cloth won’t be needed and he feels a small spark of dread in his belly at the thought of what Exeinil might have sent instead.

The page places the box on the table, bows simply and leaves.

Kerik looks at the box and then at Perl. “So, what do you think she wants me to wear?” Kerik says. “Do you think she somehow sensed you might be allowing me a scandalous black hip cloth?”

“I am sorry to say that for a Silver Ball there are some specific ensembles for thralls. All of them quite ridiculous. But we should probably comply with Exeinil's wishes. Do you mind?”

Kerik looks at Perl wide-eyed. “I don’t have a choice, do I? And you shouldn’t be giving me one. What if we are spied upon?”

“We are not being spied upon. My chamber’s wards are still in place and they are very intensive.”

“So tell me about this outfit you are going to force me to wear,” Kerik wiggles in the hip cloth. His tongue flickers over his top lip. “Or are you too lost in your own daydreams about it to speak? Is it very scandalous?”

“That is one way to describe it, I suppose. Let me show you.”

Perl climbs from his bed and goes over to the box on the table.

The contents are not unexpected.

First, he lifts out the collar. A very different collar from the one Kerik wears currently. That collar had looked so strange on Kerik when Perl had first buckled it around his throat. And he is sure, it had seemed strange to Kerik too.

But now, Perl has grown used to seeing it there. It almost suits him, dark like Kerik’s own dark colouring. He wonders if Kerik has also grown used to its weight about his throat.

If he has, that will not be the case with this new one.

The collar Perl holds is made of bright silver. It is far wider than the leather one. So wide that it requires a small indentation at the front to make room for the chin. “This,” Perl says, “will hold your head up. So your gaze is high.”

“So, at least I will be able to look around,” says Kerik, sounding unconcerned about the restrictiveness of the collar. “My eyes will not be forced to the floor.”

“In a way,” says Perl, although the way it is shaped around your chin means it prevents you from moving your head almost at all.”

“Oh,” Kerik says, walking over to inspect the box’s contents himself. Drawn by curiosity. He takes the collar from Perl with a smile. “What a diabolical thing.” He sounds almost gleeful about it.

“There are also cuffs for your wrists and these…” Perl picks up the jewelled clamps and shows them to Kerik. Tiny silver clasps with jagged teeth and diamonds sparkling in curled silver fittings.

Kerik takes them. “Where do these…?” He stops. “Oh.” With a finger tip he touches his own nipple.

“They are quite uncomfortable. At least, at first.”

Kerik pulls his shoulders back. “You think I can’t handle it, faerie?”

“I hope you can handle it.”

Kerik hands the jewelled clamps back to Perl. “Don’t worry. I can manage having clips on my teats for an evening. Is there anything else? What do I actually wear? I have seen no clothing?”

Perl reaches into the chest. “If you are asking what will cover your cock, then the answer is this.” He holds out the small silver cage to Kerik. It sparkles, studded with diamonds like the jewel clamps. It is shaped for what it will contain.

Kerik takes it. “That?” His eyes stretch wide. “This thing on my cock is all I am to wear?”

Perl turns back to the box. “Not quite. There are two more items in here,” he says. Perl lifts out one. It’s a small silver jar. He opens it and shows it to Kerik. It seems to contain a silverish coloured paste. “This is paint.”

“Paint? Paint for what.”

“It's a kind of body decoration.” Perl lifts a small brush from the jar to show Kerik how the paint is applied to his skin.

“What part of my body do you plan to decorate?”

“It is usual for you to have the name of your owner written on your chest.”