“Of course. Now.” The woman pushes off the bars, then leans forward so her face sticks between them. “If you want to trade favor for favor, I could arrange some things for you.”
And she feels something animal crawling up her throat again, different than with Cloelius, a desire to grip the bars and lean forward, beg for a chance out of this concrete block of a room, away from this dog-shit town, back to the road, back to Siri, away from all of this. She stays where she is, but maybe the woman sees, because something twitches in her face, too ,something that might be a smile, if she let it be what it is.
“What favor are you asking?”
“Life for a life. I let you out, you remove someone for me without getting me or any of my family implicated.”
“Who is it, before I agree.”
The woman beckons Lucinda forward, and Lucinda stands, steps closer.
“Caesar,” the woman says, voice low. “Don’t need him dead immediately, but you make sure that hellspawn dies. Slow, painful, knows what he did to all of us.”
Lucinda leans back so she can look the woman in the eye, then nods.
“Good. You come up with a plan then, I’ll bring your dinner tonight, and we can talk then.”
Lucinda steps back again, settles down behind her food, and nods.
“I'll see you then,” she says. The woman nods.
“Hey, either of you want the extra food here?” she asks, calls down the hall so the spy can hear.
“I’ll take the bread,” the spy requests.
“I’ll take the meat,” Lucinda says, after a moment's hesitation.
The woman nods, portions the food out according to request as her daughter collects the trays. Lucinda crams as much of the meat into her mouth as she can at once, cups the rest close to her chest.
“I’ll be back tonight with news,” the woman says, before she opens the door,and her daughter follows her out.
The door locks shut again.
“They're going to crucify you tomorrow,” Lucinda says, after she swallows a second bite of her corned brahmin.
“Damn well earned it,” the spy replies. “Knew this was the price of the job before I agreed to do it, made my peace with the idea last week, finally.”
Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (101b/109b)
And she feels something animal crawling up her throat again, different than with Cloelius, a desire to grip the bars and lean forward, beg for a chance out of this concrete block of a room, away from this dog-shit town, back to the road, back to Siri, away from all of this. She stays where she is, but maybe the woman sees, because something twitches in her face, too ,something that might be a smile, if she let it be what it is.
“What favor are you asking?”
“Life for a life. I let you out, you remove someone for me without getting me or any of my family implicated.”
“Who is it, before I agree.”
The woman beckons Lucinda forward, and Lucinda stands, steps closer.
“Caesar,” the woman says, voice low. “Don’t need him dead immediately, but you make sure that hellspawn dies. Slow, painful, knows what he did to all of us.”
Lucinda leans back so she can look the woman in the eye, then nods.
“Good. You come up with a plan then, I’ll bring your dinner tonight, and we can talk then.”
Lucinda steps back again, settles down behind her food, and nods.
“I'll see you then,” she says. The woman nods.
“Hey, either of you want the extra food here?” she asks, calls down the hall so the spy can hear.
“I’ll take the bread,” the spy requests.
“I’ll take the meat,” Lucinda says, after a moment's hesitation.
The woman nods, portions the food out according to request as her daughter collects the trays. Lucinda crams as much of the meat into her mouth as she can at once, cups the rest close to her chest.
“I’ll be back tonight with news,” the woman says, before she opens the door,and her daughter follows her out.
The door locks shut again.
“They're going to crucify you tomorrow,” Lucinda says, after she swallows a second bite of her corned brahmin.
“Damn well earned it,” the spy replies. “Knew this was the price of the job before I agreed to do it, made my peace with the idea last week, finally.”
Lucinda snorts.
“If you say so.”