He kept kneeling there in front of it; his eyes followed every move I made. "Then tell me, girl. I was being honest - now it's your turn." I was getting mad about his ignorance. He had no clue at all in what kind of position I was in that moment. If he would know then he surely wouldn't kneel on the floor with his hands cuffed. My mind told me to shoot him - my heart said don't hurt him. I was stuck in an inside conflict. And no one could help me out of this. "Ok" I suddenly said and stopped in front of the couch turning to him. "You really want me to be honest?" I made sure. "Yes." He stood up looking a little confused at me. Let's see how far I can push him. I pulled my gun with no warning, unlocked the safety catch and pointed it on his head. He didn't do a single move. I tried to see fear in his eyes. There was none. He even looked a little amused by now. It was like he exactly knew that I couldn't pull the trigger. He was truly trusting me. And now he wanted me to trust him.I. It also meant that only she would serve him for the rest of the evening. Once he had tied the cords to her arm, he noticed she knelt and stood a bit straighter and that there was more bounce in her step as she carried away the dirty dishes. Sebastian smiled, sure, she would show off the cords to the other yet-to-be-claimed slaves that were still serving wine. He was sure his host had wanted him to claim her, for he knew it would make the other slave girls strive harder to make more money for Robert and information for himself. Lynn returned quickly with another loaf of warm bread, some butter and sweet jellies and another carafe of wine. She sat at his side the entire night and, at times, he reached out to stroke her hair and to give her a piece of bread or a sip of pagan wine. Providing the night’s entertainment were young dancers still striving to get their motions fluid, but as the night wore on, the wine-dulled eyesight of the guests led each to claim a slave for the evening..
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