Be warned: this story is light and fluffy E/OW Persia-fic. The heroine is a bit of a Mary-Sue, although I like to think that she's at least original, and possibly entertaining. Serious literature this is not. It isn't really even serious fluff, because it isn't packed to the brim with sexiness. Sorry. I hope you like it anyway. If I'm lucky, it'll be a bit like wzlwmn's amazing "Rosy Hours" in tone.

June 1850

"Can I help you, mademoiselle?"

She simply stared at me, eyes wide in a pale face framed by even paler hair. I rather commended her courage; most of the people I heard loitering outside my tent left rather than entering. It cut a rather imposing figure. I suppose that I did as well; I was still in my "magician's" black robes, and loomed almost a foot over this short girl.

"The show is over for today. Do you need something?"

"Yes!" she finally squeaked. "I, um, I, my name is Vasilida." The name was Russian for "princess"; rather an affectation for this girl, whose clothing appeared to have once belonged to someone fairly well-off, although now it was muddied and torn almost to the point of indecency. I ignored her outstretched hand, as I always did. It put the other off-balance, and placed me into a position of power. Besides, her hand looked quite dirty.

"Right, well," she continued nervously, "I just…it's very odd, I know…but do you think…could you maybe…"

"If you could make your request before the fair ends, perhaps?" I asked icily. No, I wasn't being fair to the terrified girl; I never have much feeling for my fellow-man after performing.

"I need you to take me with you when you leave Nijni-Novgorod!" she let out in a rush.

I blinked. What? I was a magician, not a caravan leader!

"I know it's a very odd request to make of a stranger, but I have to get out of here, and I have no money for transportation, and all the other magicians seem to have assistants, so I thought maybe you needed one. If you don't, though, I can clean for you, or...do anything else, any...services...of any kind." She bit her rather full lower lip.

What odd phrasing. By services, did she mean...surely not.

She must have seen my show to know that I had no assistant, meaning that she'd seen my face. Offering sexual favors for transportation wasn't all that uncommon—prostitution isn't called the "world's oldest trade" for nothing—but no one would offer such to me. An assistant, though...hmm.

"An assistant, you say? Do you have any performing skills or experience?" I asked.

"None that you want in your show, I think," she said, with a small smile that was almost a grimace. What did that mean?

"So, I would have to train you if I wanted you as an assistant. Do you expect to be some sort of apprentice?" A magician's apprentice...what a strange notion. The idea of a female apprentice was even stranger. In fact, it was just insane enough to be an interesting idea…I wasn't too fond of day-to-day, menial chores, which often are the duty of an apprentice. Having this girl around to look at would be an added bonus; she was quite easy on the eyes. Did I mention that I was only about twenty at the time?

"That would be wonderful, but if you don't need one, I could pay my way in other ways..." She trailed off, smoothing her skirt with her hands.

Obviously, it was only my pathetic level of desperation that made me interpret this sexually.

"All right...consider yourself a probationary apprentice. I will take you at least as far as the next town that I come to. I'll expect you to keep my things in order and help me pack when it's time to go, and if you aren't entirely incompetent I'll let you help in my show. Is that agreeable?"

"Oh, yes! Thank you so much, sir!" She darted outside the tent, grabbed a small bag, and came back in, smiling, all terror apparently forgotten. "You won't regret this, I promise!"

What had I gotten myself into?


A woman was sleeping in the next room.

I paced around my closed-off portion of the tent for quite a while that night. While a hotel room was easily within my means, I preferred to sleep here, away from people. It had worked agreeably so far.

But now, there was a person in the next room. A female person, and a rather attractive one at that. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes were bright and blue, and her curves were rather impressive...enough to distract any young male, let alone one as deprived as I was. I had planned to get some sleep this night; she wasn't helping.

Perhaps it would help to think of her in...safer terms. What did I know about Vasilida?

Well, she was insane. Why else would she want to travel with me? Of course, I was insane too; what did I think I was doing? A woman was sleeping in the next room! Not thinking about that...

She was strangely childlike, and almost mercurial. Her initial intense terror of me had faded within minutes; rather than the pale, wide-eyed girl who entered the tent, she was all smiles and laughs, bubbly and over-eager to help. Although I would have expected it to grate on my nerves, at least it was a change from terror.

I also knew that someone had hurt her very badly. Her neck was ringed with bruises. I saw them as soon as she relaxed a bit and forgot to hold her head and her hair in the exact right way to hide them. Someone with rather large hands had fastened them quite tightly around her neck. Her dress, too, was torn nearly to tatters.

No wonder she was so desperate to leave Nijni.

She also had a tendency to stand closer to me than I find entirely comfortable. Somehow, she didn't seem to be afraid of me. Perhaps, since someone had physically abused her and I hadn't offered any form of violence, she found me the lesser of two evils. Or maybe she was simply difficult to scare. Although I usually aim to inspire terror, her complete lack of fear was refreshing…and slightly intoxicating.

What would she have done if I asked for a more…carnal form of payment? I allowed myself to fantasize for a brief moment, then violently shook my head. She would have said no, of course. Some other hapless—or happy—performer would be carting her away from the fair. To escape from whoever bruised her, perhaps she would offer herself to an ordinary man, but never to me. Other options were still available to her.

I had to go to sleep. Sleep, sleep separated from an attractive woman by only a thin tent wall...

It would be a simple thing to rape her. Despite my skeletal thinness, I am quite strong. I could easily have walked through the tent flap, held her down, and had my way with her.

I could even tie her up, leave her in my bedroom, and have her every night.

Of course, that would put me on a level with whoever had put those bruises around her neck, but what of it? I was already a murderer. Most people would consider murder far more serious than rape. In this rather backwards area of the world, rape was hardly even taboo.

Perhaps that's why I decided not to. I did not want to be simply another of the vulgar hordes of humanity. I always take a perverse pleasure in being unpredictable; a monster, but not always monstrous; a killer and a thief, but never a rapist.

On this night, at least, she was safe from me. Whether I would get any sleep remained to be seen.