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11

Red

Tonight, I kill two thousand of hureat Yet I ith them now, untouched by decadence and condescension as never before Pliny’s arrogance raises none of my blood Victra’s immodest dress does not disconcert me, not even when she slips her arm in mine after Tactus offers her his She whispers in ar to mask the coldness that’s taken me over

This is static

"I suppose Darrow deserves soh "Have you seen Roque,ill"

"That’s very Roque of him Likely coiled around a book I should fetch him"

"If he wanted to come, he would cos at the other lancers who jockey for position close to our master

"If you need hio fetch him," I say, tactically

He flinches "I need no one on my arm But if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re still bitter about the whole escape-pod affair"

"You mean when you launched it without hiht he was dead! It was simple calculation" He bumps my shoulder with his fist and nods to Victra "You understand Had to watch out for the lady here"

"She is a delicate little flower," I say, pulling her away

"Woe for the lone god of the sea," Tactus hums melodically "His friends, like old pauldron on her shoulder, which winds its way down her ar boy is so vain he could make a thunderstor won’t begin till after the gala" She nods to a landing aircar "Well, I ondering when he’d show"

The Jackal exits the car, skin faintly pink only in patches His Yellows did hi the ht it fitting if the Faala with at least one of your children We ustus eyes his son for so to criticize "I wasn’t aware you enjoyed banquets these days I’hs theatrically "Perhaps that is why my invitation was not delivered! Or was it the furor over the terrorist attacks? No er to attend your side" The Jackal falls in, s his father will never escalate family quarrels in public He offers me a particularly sinister sneer, one others see and shrink away froe "Shall we?"

I mind myself and say little as I folloith Victra at the end of the long procession that snakes its way through labyrinthine marble halls from our villa to the Citadel Gardens son’s tower juts froh sword piercing a grooarden thick with rose trees and strea paths Babbling brooks with colored fish lead to quiet lagoons where carved Pinkwith hs Violets wander through these bright woods, flitting here and there like su in eerie concert It is a picture of Bacchus’s night gardens without the obscene sexuality the Greeks found so hilarious--Pixies would chuckle at that slih the trees See their standards, great flashing things of old lion crest roars in silent challenge A raven on a field of silverof the Fae We eye their lord and his lancers warily As a matter of course, all carry razors, but other tech is forbidden--no datapads, no gravBoots, no armor This is a classical affair