loinguard. “We will see how you like it, in receipt of what you’re used to
giving out.” He could not stop her, or refrain from responding to her. Cime had
interrupted Jihan’s scheduled tryst with Askelon, perhaps aborted it. The body
which faced him had been chosen for a woman’s retribution. Later she said to
him, rubbing the imprint of her scale-armor from his loins with a high-veined
hand: “Have you never heard of letting the lady win?”
“No,” he replied, genuinely puzzled. “Jihan, are you saying I was unfair?”
“Only arcane, weighting the scales to your side. Love without feeling, mind
caress, spell-excitation. … I am new to flesh. I hope you are well chastized
and repentant,” she giggled, just briefly, before his words found her ears: “I
warn you, straight-out: those who love me die of it, and those I favor are fated
to spurn me.”
“You are an arrogant man. You think I care? I should have struck you more
viciously.” Her flat hand slapped, more than playfully, down upon his belly.
“He-” she meant Askelon “-cannot spare me any of his substance. I do this for
him, that he not look upon me hungry for a man and know shame. You saw his
wrist, where she skewered him….”
“I don’t fancy a gift from him, convenient or no.” He was going to pull her up
beside him, where he might casually get his hands around her fine, muscular
throat. But she sat back and retorted, “You think he would suggest this? Or even
know of it? I take what I choose from men, and we do not discuss it. It is all I
can do for him. And you owe me whatever price I care to name-your own sister