“I eluded my ‘escort’ for once! Hurry, Strick,” she said, and, triumphantly:
“Mothahhh awaits your pleasure in the Golden O!”
Strick smiled. “Good. My guardian Frax will accompany you.” He unbuckled his weapons belt and passed it to the other man. “Hand me one of your daggers, Frax; there’s a good one in that sheath. Frax will escort you. Noble Shafra-laina, and will escort your mother back. This is my place of business.”
“I will do anything for you. Lord Strick!”
“Do not call me lord and do not be silly, Avenestra. Your infatuation with Ahdio is ended and so is your nightly drunk-enness, that’s all. You are right back where you were. An orphan of fifteen who hangs about a low tavern every night and survives by selling her body-for what little poor men can afford to pay!
It’s a rotten life and will only rot you. Besides, there is the trade, or reverse effect. The Price. What effect is your new craving for sweets going to have on the body you peddle?”
Avenestra looked at the floor and began leaking tears. “What-what else can I d do-o?”
“What would you like to do? Think, girl! For once, think!”
“B-b-be you-you-ourss!”
Strick slapped the desk cover, a huge piece of deep blue velvet trailing gold tassels on her side. “My dotter, you mean.”
“Daughter? Uh-“
“Look at me and consider my age and forget the other, Avneh!”
She did look at him, from unkohled eyes all soft and misted with tears that traced glistening tracks down her gaunt cheeks. She bit her lip. She nodded.
“What-what does your daught-your dotter do?”