In Which Isidro Resorts to Desperate Measures

February 16, 1175

"Wait, is this...?"

Riona's forced voice wavered before letting the phrase hang. Isidro took to massaging his wrist in an effort to look occupied. It had been cruel to bring her here, but she'd left him little choice. He'd already spent long hours banging on bathhouse doors while lamenting loudly how long she took to wash herself. He'd made observations about hand gestures and the way she walked, only to watch her grow more conscious of such mannerisms. He'd even swiped the rags from her room and watched in agony as she floundered for an excuse as to why she needed them back.

It was so obvious. It was frankly a miracle that none of his idiot cousins had figured out who she was, much less his father--and the longer Riona stayed with them, the more likely it was that one of them would. That was a risk they could not take; as little as he liked Riona, he did not want to know what his father might do if he found out that the 'spirited young boy' tagging along after them wasn't a boy at all.

He didn't want to tell Riona that he knew. He'd have to if he couldn't force a confession out of her, but that would no doubt involve tears and sobs and perhaps his father storming upstairs and knocking on the door, demanding to know what was going on. No, it had to look like a misunderstanding. He had to make her uncomfortable without seeming like that was his intent. He wanted her to reach her breaking point, to pull him aside privately and tell him to stop, to confess when she couldn't give any better reason for asking. If she did that, he could just send her on her way and tell the others that 'Searle' had left on 'his' own accord; no hard feelings, no explosive reaction on the part of Domingo, nothing.

But she had failed to work with him so far and he was running out of patience. This was a desperate measure. "Seems a shame to be on the road for so long without even getting laid, doesn't it?"

"Looks like the night's just getting started too," added Bernardo as he pried his eyes off a blond fondling her client's cock under cover of his tunic. "The clothes haven't even come off yet."

Nodding, Riona grimaced--a good sign. People didn't grimace when they were enjoying themselves. "Err... I noticed."

She scuffed her boot against the floorboards. Maybe this was the part where she dashed out the door and he chased after her, demanded to know what the problem was, heard it told straight. She'd been playing with fire long enough.

But she didn't move. Some foreign emotion tugging his heart downward, Isidro looked her over. She was tall and gangly for a girl her age and flat-chested even without the binding, but he didn't see how that alone had managed to fool everyone. They must have never gotten a good look at her face. She was too pretty to be a boy.

"Are you a virgin, Searle?"

Her thick lashes reared back and the blue of her eyes swelled past their sockets. "...eh?"

"I take that as a 'yes'."

Mortified, Riona's mouth fell agape. She was slipping. She had no idea how to get out of this and they both knew it. The only way out was to run--she must have realized that.

But if so, why were her feet so firmly planted? Was she too afraid to move? Or was she just too damn stubborn for her own good? "Uh..."

"So... are you boys just planning on standing here all night or what?"

The speaker was a girl who must have approached from one of the benches. She was dark and petite, with startling eyes and soft features. She was attractive enough to make a man look like a fool for rejecting her. She'd do.

Grinning, Bernardo sized the girl up, then sent a wink Riona's way. "I bet she's good."

The girl laughed. "So I've been told."

Yes--she'd do. Isidro pulled a small sack of coins from his belt and tossed it back to Riona. She was already spending more than she could afford on private rooms; no reason she should have to fund her own humiliation.

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