*she stretches, silent for a moment, and when she once more speaks her expression gives the idea that perhaps the words that are coming forth aren�t ones she intended to ever let out... but out they flow regardless, tangling as they leave her lips, spilling into the air with an almost desperate rush*

I hurt Alei rathe badly the night after I purchased the artist. It is perhaps the only part of the whole affair that I regret... the only thing that still haunts me, other than his eyes and the way his hands felt against my throat... the way he felt when he moved above me, thunder given form, lightning granted flesh. But this sticks, the memory of hearing Alei�s bone snap, that dull crunch that I have learned to regard as a sign that my control is slipping.

She had asked to be given a turn with the new one. That was all.

And for that, I broke her arm.

Perhaps it was the sound that set me back on track. Perhaps it was what I needed, hearing her whimper as she huddled in the farthest corner of the room, cringing away from me when I moved toward her. She'd been learning from me how to enjoy the sight of another's pain, and I'd never bothered to teach her to enjoy her own - I wanted her easy to discipline. The pain of bone grating on bone was enough to drain the blood from her face, and when I yanked her up by her undamaged arm she screamed.

"Get that fixed," I ordered, pushing her out of the room and slamming the door behind her, uncaring, still angry... and still shocked that I wanted him so badly, that I needed to posess him so completely. Even the thought of sharing sent me into a rage... he was unlike my other toys. Unlike anyone I'd been asked to break.

I fell asleep with his name on my lips and when I woke to a gentle tongue lapping at my hand where it emerged from the covers, I reached out, expecting to catch him. When Kaine yipped softly it was a rather rude awakening.

I fed him, petted him, fussed over him... all the while knowing that it was someone else I wanted at my feet. I'd left my toy out in the hall though, chained to the sturdy support beam near the stairs. I figured that the less comfort he got, the better... the servants knew better than to feed him.

We took to the coach quickly, Alei and Michael in a second wagon I'd purchased before we left, a boy from that inn hired to drive it. I know she watched him hungrily, that it amused her to realize I was leaving her alone with this new piece of art as almost an apology... but what else could I do? Kaine hadn't done anything to make sending him away worthwhile, after all, I needed one trained slaveboy with me... and I was not letting my toy out of my sight.

We arrived at the City late the next night, jolting in over rough cobblestones, finally coming to a stop in front of one of the grandest Houses in the place. From the pandemonium our arrival caused, you would have thought we were unexpected - servants and slaves alike turning out in a mad dash to be the first to greet the coach and wagon, stable hands running back and forth, Domino standing in the doorway with his best uniform on but the sash tied crooked, his hair all dandilion-fluff as if perhaps he'd been running his fingers through it, worrying... it was into this madcap cluster of people that I descended, all three of my boys heeling nicely, Alei back in her place of honor beside me.

It didn't take me long to realize that the bustle and chaos was indeed because we had not been expected. I found this odd - I'd sent two messengers ahead with the news, intending to have a few changes prepared by the time I arrived. A hot bath should have been waiting for me in the large pool, and cages prepared for all three slaves. Instead, the bath was undrawn, and the only cage prepared was for Kaine. With a growl I drew Domino aside, ignoring his sputterings until he finally quieted.

Calmly, as calmly as I can do anything, I asked him what happened to the messengers. Something about his eyes when he'd told me no one had arrived... rang false.

"I swear, m'Lady, we had nothing to do with it, no one in your House would do such a thing!"

This outburst being less than helpful, I offered to strip him back down to kitchen slave and give him a few months turning spits and scrubbing floors while he tried to come up with a better answer. It didn't take long at all for the story to spill out. Apparently, one of the messengers had made it... or rather, his head had.

It appeared in a stewpot that was being brought out to serve the high staff... no one could explain it, the boy carrying the pot had been locked away to await my arrival, but he was 'not all there', as the cook put it, and could barely remember his own name, let alone explain how the grisly trophy had ended up in the soup.

Worried, I stalked off to the pool to wait for the heated water to be brought in, calling for Kaine to join me.