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As soon as the bell chimes, the iron cuff vanishes from Perl’s wrist and he races to the platform to release Kerik. For the last few moments he has been forced to watch as Seridil and then Vane spoke with him.

Perl is still preoccupied with the thought of what might have been said, when Kerik, being his usual brutish self, spits in Vane’s face. All Perl can do is get him out of there as fast as possible.

He half-hears Vane saying, “Then I will have to ask Exeinil to declare this test voided and have your creature sent to the pit.”

As soon as they are in the wide corridor outside the hall, Perl snaps, “I cannot even imagine why you did that. Never ever do something like that again.” He says it like he’s reprimanding a wayward youngling.

Kerik makes a short, scoffing sound, “Faerie deserved it," he says.

Perl rounds on Kerik, rolling his eyes. “Of course he deserved it. But he is a Prince of Oria. You are a mortal thrall. ‘Deserved’ doesn’t mean anything. Did you forget what he knows about you? What he could now reveal?”

“He would not. He wants me to complete these tests. It was his demand and he is enjoying seeing it.”

Perl feels himself pressing his teeth tight together. He touches his jaw. “Even if you are right about that, now all your work will count for nothing. It will matter not at all that you completed the test. Exeinil will likely declare it void and, if we are lucky, make you complete another. And if not, she will send you directly to the pit. All the court will remember is that I didn't whip you for insolence when you spat in a high fae’s face.”

Kerik raises a cocky eyebrow at Perl. He leans back, lolling against the white wall of the corridor. The ice light makes his eyes sparkle. “Very well, but how is that down to me?” He draws back his shoulders. “You’re the one who refused to whip me.”

Perl looks at the red marks at the corners of Kerik’s mouth from where it was stretched around the jewelled silver ball. He feels unpleasant desire roll through his gut. Kerik is leaning back, half naked and as recklessly brave as ever. Perl swallows against the flip of lust in his belly. He would slide to his knees if Kerik asked it of him. He would beg on the floor before him. But he says, “Why wouldn’t I refuse?”

Kerik pushes off the wall and takes a step towards Perl, crowding him. Perl feels his heart beat harder. He knows Kerik was fond of seducing men in Attar. Is this how he did it? “I am playing my part,” Kerik says in a low, rough whisper. “Your obedient thrall. You must play yours. My Master.” Kerik leans close. His voice drops even lower. “Drag me back in there and whip me, faerie.”

Perl feels frozen before Kerik. “What?” he manages.

“You think I can’t take it? Whip me.”

“You’re not serious.”

Kerik’s smile is slow and genuine. Almost as if he relishes what will happen next. “Oh, I am. I spat in that kush’s face. I’ll take a whipping for it. It was worth it.”

Perl swallows. His throat is thick and sour. “Very well. I suppose it will help my claim to you.”

He feels sick at the thought but Kerik is right, they need to do this or the whole thing is likely over. Exeinil will declare the first test voided and that will be that. Kerik will be sent to the pit then offered up as a thrall to any high fae who is interested.

It will not be pleasant. For either of them.

Perl marches back into the parlour dragging Kerik on his leash. There are not many fae in the hall. But Vane is still present. As are Exeinil and her thrall. And several of the dark-clad night fae who do not typically take their beds until long after the midnight bell.

Exeinil looks quite concerned as Perl walks back in, rising and saying, “Perlash-zeren-ai, your thrall’s behaviour towards Prince Vane means I will be forced to declare the first test void unless you punish it.”

Perl nods. In response he doesn’t address Exeinil, but the entire parlour. “My grand majesty, high fae of Vylenor,” Perl announces. “My thrall committed a transgression against our fair Prince of Oria, Vanel-areti-ai. For this, he will be whipped before all.”

Vane looks at Perl. He’s back on the dais, posing idly on his throne. As Perl gets closer he says, “So you have finally found the will to Master that thing.”

Perl gives Vane a polite nod of his head. “Yes, my prince. I agree. He should be whipped for his behaviour towards you, his better. He is a mortal thrall and needs to learn respect. He will now beg your forgiveness.”

Perl turns to Kerik and gives him a sharp look. Kerik’s face is blank, although Perl can only imagine the amused, drawling comment he would make if he wasn’t concentrating on playing his part.

Kerik steps forward, moving in front of Perl. Perl sees Exeinil, craning forward to watch, her face full of delight.

Kerik drops to his knees, all graceful strength. His voice is soft, clear but quite submissive. “Prince of Oria,” he says. “I beg your assent to this punishment for the great crime I committed to your person.” He leans forward and presses his forehead to the floor.

Vane stands and steps down from the dais, coming close to Kerik. “Really, you ought to be sent to the pit to have that sort of thing forced out of you. You need breaking.” He kicks at Kerik’s flank with a booted foot, hard enough to make Kerik gasp and Perl want to kill.

“Yes, Sire,” Kerik says, sitting up again and leaning back on his heels. Perl watches Kerik with fascination. He’s so reckless and impulsive. Most of the time he doesn’t seem to have a thought in his head about what he’s about to do or what the consequences of his actions might be, but somehow, that makes his play acting very convincing. He’s so simple and straightforward, it’s almost as if one forgets he could be telling untruths.

Exeinil leans forward, beaming. “You would wield the whip yourself, or would you prefer a guard?”

“I will wield it.” Perl lifts his chin.