Chapter Thirty
It was time to leave.
Wiggling from beneath the muscular arm, which was slung possessively around her waist, Sarena slipped out of the narrow bed. She took a deep breath, shuddering slightly as her bare skin made contact with the cool air of the cabin. The fire in the hearth had long since burned itself out, and she had no intentions of rekindling it. Rekindling it would only disturb him, waking him from the depths of sleep, and when he was awake, he made it so much harder for her to leave. When he was awake, he always pleaded and cajoled, his voice soft, whispering words that she longed to hear, if only they didn't fall from his lips.
Finding her clothing in the darkness of the cabin was not a problem. Once it had been, before she grew wiser and more cautious, before she began to take control of their clandestine nocturnal meetings. Now, she always removed the garments herself, placing them on the table or the chair, her shoes neatly close by so that dressing -- and leaving -- was not an obstacle.
Fully dressed, Sarena dropped, quietly, into the chair before the hearth and dusted the dirt and straw from her feet. This was one of those little things that she despised about being here, about this place. The floors were not stone and tile, not covered over with elaborate rugs, but still no more than dirt and straw which made her feet itch and kept her shoes dirty. She would have to spend time before going to her own bed to wash away the grime, to not carry the stain of this place into her quarters.
"Would it kill you to stay just one night?" His voice, soft and accusatory, carried across the hut, startling her.
So, he was awake. He was not the master of subtlety, or pretense and Sarena was a bit piqued that he had, for once, fooled her. That now, she would have to sit and listen to his pathetic pleas.
"Yes, it would, Kelv." Properly shoed, Sarena began to replace the pins in her hair. "You know I have to be there to attend to my lady when she wakes in the --"
"How stupid do you think I am?"
Sarena paused, one pin pinched between her teeth, her hands tangled in her hair, and debated whether or not to answer that question. Stupid? Perhaps not, but it was not stupidity that she was looking for. Had Kelv been stupid, she would never have found her way into the stable boy's bed. He was young, yes, barely sixteen, and naïve, but he was not stupid. The nephew, cousin, or some other some such to Legan, when he was not needed in the stables, he was put to work in the Keep, learning the proper ways to attend to a lord. Still young enough to be unable to appreciate the education that Legan was providing him with, but easily enough swayed by feminine wiles to be her source for keeping tabs on Lord Marmion.
"I don't think you're stupid, Kelv."
"That's not the word of it around," Kelv muttered. "I'm being branded an idiot for keeping company with you."
She pushed the pin in, securing several long winding strands of loose hair. "If you are listening to gossip, then maybe you are stupid."
"Or maybe we both are."
Flinching, she poked herself in the fingers with another pin. She cursed softly in the darkness. What was his problem? Kelv never behaved like this. Yes, he sulked and whined pathetically, but he did not insult her. "What has gotten into you?"
"Nothing." Sarena knew from the shuffling movements that he was getting out of bed, probably hunting around for a candle to light. "I just don't understand why you keep doing this."
"Doing what? Returning to my own bed as is proper?"
"You don't care about proper." The swish-flick of tinder being lit sounded in the room and in a moment, a candle danced in front of Kelv's face. He held it in front of him, striding boldly towards the table where she sat, apparently unaffected by the temperature of the hut. "You just care that *he* might find out what you're doing."
"You're talking nonsense."
"I'm talking nonsense?" Kelv sat the candle on the table, kneeling before her in the dirt and straw. He rested his hands on her knees, holding her facing him although she attempted to turn away. "Sarena, I'm not stupid. I know that you run out of here every night because you hope that Lord Marmion will come looking for you. Well, he's not."
"You don't know --"
"I do know! Everyone knows! It's no secret that he tossed you out of his bed. That he hasn't paid any more attention to you than Selly, the cook, since he came back from the northern provinces with Lady Jadina. He's done with you, Sarena. Let it go. Let it go and be someone who actually cares about you -- "
"Someone like you?" Sarena shoved the boy away from her. She didn't need this. Not from him, not tonight, but most especially not from him. She'd chosen Kelv because of his ability to get close to Marmion, she had chosen him because he was still young enough to keep his mouth closed except when she asked him to speak. And she had chosen him because he was a pretty boy, with piercing blue eyes and silky dark hair that always seemed to be unruly. He could charm her when he wanted to, when she allowed it; but she was not going to allow that now.
"Everyone talks about you, Rena. When you're not around to hear the words. They say that you're blind and you're stupid. That you're simply waiting for the unavoidable to happen, for him to finally get fed up and send you away."
"He won't. He can't. Jadina won't let him."
"Like she would care if she found out what you've been doing? She's moved into his bedroom, she's probably sharing more than his bed --"
"Shut up, Kelv!" Grabbing her cloak, she wrapped it around herself, wondering when the temperature of the room had dropped a few degrees.
She didn't want to hear these words, the taunting little words that repeated themselves in her head every night. Jadina was barely fifteen when she was married to Marmion, really no more than a child. Not as shrewish and manipulative as her sisters, but certainly prettier than them. Two years her senior, Sarena saw opportunity when it presented itself. Lord Marmion was not interested in his child-wife, no matter how pretty she was, or how much she charmed his parents. Marmion had no interest in Jadina, but Sarena was another matter entirely . . . she had first climbed into his bed two days after the marriage was consummated.
And she had never left, until that trip to the northern provinces. The one in which Lady Margot made it clear that Sarena would not be accompanying her lady Jadina, that everything would be provided for the family when they arrived north. Two and half months was all it had taken for Jadina to turn Marmion's head; two and half months was all it had taken for the little bitch to do the unexpected.
Sarena had never expected it. From day one she convinced Jadina that Marmion was not worth her time, her interest, or her effort. She taught the girl of the things to do to catch and keep a man's interest, hoping that someday the seeds of fancy would plant themselves and that foolish Jadina would dare to use those tricks by bringing another man into her bed. She had never thought the girl would use them on her husband.
"I don't need this from you. She is not . . . Jadina is just a simple, spoiled child. She can never, and will never be anything more than a pretty trinket for his arm. No matter what his feeling right now, I know Marmion, and he will grow bored of her."
"Like he grew bored of you?"
The sound of flesh meeting flesh resounded in the room as the flat of her palm made contact with his cheek. "Damn you to Hermion's fire, Kelv!"
She nearly pulled the door from its hinges as she yanked it open. She had enough of him, for tonight, maybe for always. Tightening her cloak around her, she stepped into the night air, yelping in surprise as Kelv grabbed her and yanked her around so hard that she felt the joint crack. "Let go of me!"
"If you won't listen to reason about Marmion, then at least listen to this - be careful of the company you keep."
"Like you?"
Kelv laughed and shook his head. "Zolnar's sword, you are so stubborn, woman! Will you please --"
"Good night, Kelv, I've heard enough." Jerking her arm free, Sarena stepped away from the hut, into the full moonlight, daring him to follow her in his undressed state. Hood of her cloak pulled over head, she began the trek back towards the Keep.
Halfway there, she stopped, peering anxiously into the shadows which cloaked the night. She could have sworn that she heard someone following behind her, but when she looked, all was as it should have been. The night around her was still and devoid of any life save her and the sounds of animals in the distance. Still, Sarena quickened her pace, the prickling feeling of a million eyes on her never leaving.
There was a back entrance to the Keep, it led off of the servants quarters and into the stables, and that was the door that Sarena aimed for. She reached for the lamp that she left beside the door, gasping and stumbling backwards so quickly that she landed on her rear as another hand swooped down and claimed it before she could.
"It's a bit late to be wandering around at night, isn't it?"
Sarena remained on the ground, her heart pounding deep within her breast as the speaker turned to her, lighting the lantern as he did so. The light reflected onto the familiar face of His Royal Highness of Albarasque, Prince Calend'et.
"Yes, it is. Your Highness." The last was added as an afterthought, and left a bitter taste in her mouth. It seemed that the entire kingdom was going out of their minds for this wedding, the union of High Prince Adam to the Damiar Princess of Albarasque, but very few seemed to understand what it really meant, how something such as this was the first step towards allowing Albarasque and all their damned priests and mages to overwhelm the power and pride of Stiborn.
The Damiar Princess, for all the strange foreignness she and her entourage brought to the Keep, was at least quiet and manageable. Although she did not understand what Jadina saw in keeping company with the alien princess, she could only hope that Prince Adam would be able to contain the girl and any attempts she might make to assert the control of the Temple of Damiaren.
Prince Calend'et was another story entirely. For all that he openly professed his dislike of all things Stibornan, he seemed happy enough to accept Stibornan women into his bed. Sometimes, they were there whether they wished it or not. Of course, that sort of thing never reached the deaf ears of Lady Margot and Lord Bial, because who would take the word of a servant girl over a highborn blue blood prince?
He smiled at her, extending his hands. The smile oozed oil and sleaze, and Sarena suppressed a shudder as she accepted the extended hands and the offer up from the ground. The sooner these foreigners left Stiborn, the better off they all would be . . . if it were not too late by then.
"It's a good thing that I happened to be out as well," Calend'et continued, all teeth and smiles, keeping tight hold upon one of her hands, "Wouldn't have wanted any harm to come to you."
Sarena shivered, and not from cold. Recalling the prickles of a million eyes, she stared at him with incredulity. "You were following me, Your Highness?"
"Well, we certainly wouldn't any harm to come to one of your personage, would we?"
As if on cue, the men appeared. They stepped forward, materializing out of the shadows. Clothed entirely in black, even their heads wrapped with black cloth, their faces almost hidden beneath swaths of cloth, Sarena reacted although she meant to suppress any reaction. It was easy to forget the sahkrah, the warrior-priests who guarded the prince. They faded into shadows easily, trained as they were to remain unnoticed as much as possible.
"If I meant any harm to you, Sarena, I would have done it by now," Prince Calend'et tucked her hand into the crook of her arm, leading her away from the Keep. "I only thought you would like to know that we will not be unattended. Besides," he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear, "you still have the stink of that stable boy on you."
Two things occurred to Sarena at that moment: one, that the Prince knew her name, and two, that he did not profess an interest in her as did other men. Yes, he was young, but she had heard the rumors about him, that when he was being kind and gentle, he made up for his youth in exchange for his skill. Knowing her name filled her with a morbid sense of pride, but his lack of interest, and the ease at which he dismissed her, hit her like a slap in the face.
"Your Highness, where are we going?"
"We are walking. I want to talk to you, and you will want to hear what I have to say."
"I should be getting back --"
"Why? Your lady is asleep, she will not need you until morning. And your stable boy ... well, you left him."
"What do you want with me, Your Highness?"
"You may be a well bred wench, but you are too demanding by far." Prince Calend'et patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his arm, a touch that made her want to jerk away and wash for a week. His words and manner were arrogant, speaking as though she were beneath him when he was the filthy outlander.
Wisdom dictated that she held her tongue. Whatever her thoughts on the matter, he was royalty, and any offense given to him would fall soundly upon her shoulders.
"I know that you have certain ... acquaintances ... that disagree with this so-called marriage and union of our kingdoms." His words crawled down her spine like ice water, Kelv's admonishment of being careful of the company she kept ringing in her head. Sarena nearly stumbled, desperately wishing to be any place but walking besides the prince, but knowing that unless he willed it, she would never make it past the sahkrah.
"I don't know what you mean, Your Highness." The lie fell easily off of her lips, her words calm although she felt anything but calm at the moment. All of those late night gatherings, in dimly lit huts or within the forgotten store rooms of the Keep came back to her. Their numbers were few, but those in charge spoke of greater things and of people in power who would soon step up and speak out against the insanity that had taken hold of King Martine. All she had to do was bide her time, and when the fall-out came, she would not be harmed by it. No one would who knew what side to stand on.
He laughed, not a rich, mirth filled sound, but more a dark twisting sound that made the night air feel even cooler. "I've been watching you, and I know that you're not as stupid and simple as you want people to believe. Do you know why I know that? Because I'm not a simpleton, either, yet even my grandmother doesn't see beyond what I want her to see. She doesn't see anything beyond my dear sister."
The last was added as an afterthought, she was certain, muttered as it was under his breath. Though speculation ran high that Prince Calend'et and the Damiar Princess could not stand one another, this was the first true evidence Sarena had ever seen. She filed it away for later consideration . . . if she left here with enough of her dignity and poise in tact to warrant further consideration.
"I'll be honest, your people are not the only ones who . . . dislike the arrangement between your prince and my sister." The prince stopped talking and turned to face her, his eyes shining deviously in the pale moonlight. "Now, I have proposition for you, and I don't think that you'll be so stupid as to turn it down."
*** End of Chapter Thirty
It was time to leave.
Wiggling from beneath the muscular arm, which was slung possessively around her waist, Sarena slipped out of the narrow bed. She took a deep breath, shuddering slightly as her bare skin made contact with the cool air of the cabin. The fire in the hearth had long since burned itself out, and she had no intentions of rekindling it. Rekindling it would only disturb him, waking him from the depths of sleep, and when he was awake, he made it so much harder for her to leave. When he was awake, he always pleaded and cajoled, his voice soft, whispering words that she longed to hear, if only they didn't fall from his lips.
Finding her clothing in the darkness of the cabin was not a problem. Once it had been, before she grew wiser and more cautious, before she began to take control of their clandestine nocturnal meetings. Now, she always removed the garments herself, placing them on the table or the chair, her shoes neatly close by so that dressing -- and leaving -- was not an obstacle.
Fully dressed, Sarena dropped, quietly, into the chair before the hearth and dusted the dirt and straw from her feet. This was one of those little things that she despised about being here, about this place. The floors were not stone and tile, not covered over with elaborate rugs, but still no more than dirt and straw which made her feet itch and kept her shoes dirty. She would have to spend time before going to her own bed to wash away the grime, to not carry the stain of this place into her quarters.
"Would it kill you to stay just one night?" His voice, soft and accusatory, carried across the hut, startling her.
So, he was awake. He was not the master of subtlety, or pretense and Sarena was a bit piqued that he had, for once, fooled her. That now, she would have to sit and listen to his pathetic pleas.
"Yes, it would, Kelv." Properly shoed, Sarena began to replace the pins in her hair. "You know I have to be there to attend to my lady when she wakes in the --"
"How stupid do you think I am?"
Sarena paused, one pin pinched between her teeth, her hands tangled in her hair, and debated whether or not to answer that question. Stupid? Perhaps not, but it was not stupidity that she was looking for. Had Kelv been stupid, she would never have found her way into the stable boy's bed. He was young, yes, barely sixteen, and naïve, but he was not stupid. The nephew, cousin, or some other some such to Legan, when he was not needed in the stables, he was put to work in the Keep, learning the proper ways to attend to a lord. Still young enough to be unable to appreciate the education that Legan was providing him with, but easily enough swayed by feminine wiles to be her source for keeping tabs on Lord Marmion.
"I don't think you're stupid, Kelv."
"That's not the word of it around," Kelv muttered. "I'm being branded an idiot for keeping company with you."
She pushed the pin in, securing several long winding strands of loose hair. "If you are listening to gossip, then maybe you are stupid."
"Or maybe we both are."
Flinching, she poked herself in the fingers with another pin. She cursed softly in the darkness. What was his problem? Kelv never behaved like this. Yes, he sulked and whined pathetically, but he did not insult her. "What has gotten into you?"
"Nothing." Sarena knew from the shuffling movements that he was getting out of bed, probably hunting around for a candle to light. "I just don't understand why you keep doing this."
"Doing what? Returning to my own bed as is proper?"
"You don't care about proper." The swish-flick of tinder being lit sounded in the room and in a moment, a candle danced in front of Kelv's face. He held it in front of him, striding boldly towards the table where she sat, apparently unaffected by the temperature of the hut. "You just care that *he* might find out what you're doing."
"You're talking nonsense."
"I'm talking nonsense?" Kelv sat the candle on the table, kneeling before her in the dirt and straw. He rested his hands on her knees, holding her facing him although she attempted to turn away. "Sarena, I'm not stupid. I know that you run out of here every night because you hope that Lord Marmion will come looking for you. Well, he's not."
"You don't know --"
"I do know! Everyone knows! It's no secret that he tossed you out of his bed. That he hasn't paid any more attention to you than Selly, the cook, since he came back from the northern provinces with Lady Jadina. He's done with you, Sarena. Let it go. Let it go and be someone who actually cares about you -- "
"Someone like you?" Sarena shoved the boy away from her. She didn't need this. Not from him, not tonight, but most especially not from him. She'd chosen Kelv because of his ability to get close to Marmion, she had chosen him because he was still young enough to keep his mouth closed except when she asked him to speak. And she had chosen him because he was a pretty boy, with piercing blue eyes and silky dark hair that always seemed to be unruly. He could charm her when he wanted to, when she allowed it; but she was not going to allow that now.
"Everyone talks about you, Rena. When you're not around to hear the words. They say that you're blind and you're stupid. That you're simply waiting for the unavoidable to happen, for him to finally get fed up and send you away."
"He won't. He can't. Jadina won't let him."
"Like she would care if she found out what you've been doing? She's moved into his bedroom, she's probably sharing more than his bed --"
"Shut up, Kelv!" Grabbing her cloak, she wrapped it around herself, wondering when the temperature of the room had dropped a few degrees.
She didn't want to hear these words, the taunting little words that repeated themselves in her head every night. Jadina was barely fifteen when she was married to Marmion, really no more than a child. Not as shrewish and manipulative as her sisters, but certainly prettier than them. Two years her senior, Sarena saw opportunity when it presented itself. Lord Marmion was not interested in his child-wife, no matter how pretty she was, or how much she charmed his parents. Marmion had no interest in Jadina, but Sarena was another matter entirely . . . she had first climbed into his bed two days after the marriage was consummated.
And she had never left, until that trip to the northern provinces. The one in which Lady Margot made it clear that Sarena would not be accompanying her lady Jadina, that everything would be provided for the family when they arrived north. Two and half months was all it had taken for Jadina to turn Marmion's head; two and half months was all it had taken for the little bitch to do the unexpected.
Sarena had never expected it. From day one she convinced Jadina that Marmion was not worth her time, her interest, or her effort. She taught the girl of the things to do to catch and keep a man's interest, hoping that someday the seeds of fancy would plant themselves and that foolish Jadina would dare to use those tricks by bringing another man into her bed. She had never thought the girl would use them on her husband.
"I don't need this from you. She is not . . . Jadina is just a simple, spoiled child. She can never, and will never be anything more than a pretty trinket for his arm. No matter what his feeling right now, I know Marmion, and he will grow bored of her."
"Like he grew bored of you?"
The sound of flesh meeting flesh resounded in the room as the flat of her palm made contact with his cheek. "Damn you to Hermion's fire, Kelv!"
She nearly pulled the door from its hinges as she yanked it open. She had enough of him, for tonight, maybe for always. Tightening her cloak around her, she stepped into the night air, yelping in surprise as Kelv grabbed her and yanked her around so hard that she felt the joint crack. "Let go of me!"
"If you won't listen to reason about Marmion, then at least listen to this - be careful of the company you keep."
"Like you?"
Kelv laughed and shook his head. "Zolnar's sword, you are so stubborn, woman! Will you please --"
"Good night, Kelv, I've heard enough." Jerking her arm free, Sarena stepped away from the hut, into the full moonlight, daring him to follow her in his undressed state. Hood of her cloak pulled over head, she began the trek back towards the Keep.
Halfway there, she stopped, peering anxiously into the shadows which cloaked the night. She could have sworn that she heard someone following behind her, but when she looked, all was as it should have been. The night around her was still and devoid of any life save her and the sounds of animals in the distance. Still, Sarena quickened her pace, the prickling feeling of a million eyes on her never leaving.
There was a back entrance to the Keep, it led off of the servants quarters and into the stables, and that was the door that Sarena aimed for. She reached for the lamp that she left beside the door, gasping and stumbling backwards so quickly that she landed on her rear as another hand swooped down and claimed it before she could.
"It's a bit late to be wandering around at night, isn't it?"
Sarena remained on the ground, her heart pounding deep within her breast as the speaker turned to her, lighting the lantern as he did so. The light reflected onto the familiar face of His Royal Highness of Albarasque, Prince Calend'et.
"Yes, it is. Your Highness." The last was added as an afterthought, and left a bitter taste in her mouth. It seemed that the entire kingdom was going out of their minds for this wedding, the union of High Prince Adam to the Damiar Princess of Albarasque, but very few seemed to understand what it really meant, how something such as this was the first step towards allowing Albarasque and all their damned priests and mages to overwhelm the power and pride of Stiborn.
The Damiar Princess, for all the strange foreignness she and her entourage brought to the Keep, was at least quiet and manageable. Although she did not understand what Jadina saw in keeping company with the alien princess, she could only hope that Prince Adam would be able to contain the girl and any attempts she might make to assert the control of the Temple of Damiaren.
Prince Calend'et was another story entirely. For all that he openly professed his dislike of all things Stibornan, he seemed happy enough to accept Stibornan women into his bed. Sometimes, they were there whether they wished it or not. Of course, that sort of thing never reached the deaf ears of Lady Margot and Lord Bial, because who would take the word of a servant girl over a highborn blue blood prince?
He smiled at her, extending his hands. The smile oozed oil and sleaze, and Sarena suppressed a shudder as she accepted the extended hands and the offer up from the ground. The sooner these foreigners left Stiborn, the better off they all would be . . . if it were not too late by then.
"It's a good thing that I happened to be out as well," Calend'et continued, all teeth and smiles, keeping tight hold upon one of her hands, "Wouldn't have wanted any harm to come to you."
Sarena shivered, and not from cold. Recalling the prickles of a million eyes, she stared at him with incredulity. "You were following me, Your Highness?"
"Well, we certainly wouldn't any harm to come to one of your personage, would we?"
As if on cue, the men appeared. They stepped forward, materializing out of the shadows. Clothed entirely in black, even their heads wrapped with black cloth, their faces almost hidden beneath swaths of cloth, Sarena reacted although she meant to suppress any reaction. It was easy to forget the sahkrah, the warrior-priests who guarded the prince. They faded into shadows easily, trained as they were to remain unnoticed as much as possible.
"If I meant any harm to you, Sarena, I would have done it by now," Prince Calend'et tucked her hand into the crook of her arm, leading her away from the Keep. "I only thought you would like to know that we will not be unattended. Besides," he leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear, "you still have the stink of that stable boy on you."
Two things occurred to Sarena at that moment: one, that the Prince knew her name, and two, that he did not profess an interest in her as did other men. Yes, he was young, but she had heard the rumors about him, that when he was being kind and gentle, he made up for his youth in exchange for his skill. Knowing her name filled her with a morbid sense of pride, but his lack of interest, and the ease at which he dismissed her, hit her like a slap in the face.
"Your Highness, where are we going?"
"We are walking. I want to talk to you, and you will want to hear what I have to say."
"I should be getting back --"
"Why? Your lady is asleep, she will not need you until morning. And your stable boy ... well, you left him."
"What do you want with me, Your Highness?"
"You may be a well bred wench, but you are too demanding by far." Prince Calend'et patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his arm, a touch that made her want to jerk away and wash for a week. His words and manner were arrogant, speaking as though she were beneath him when he was the filthy outlander.
Wisdom dictated that she held her tongue. Whatever her thoughts on the matter, he was royalty, and any offense given to him would fall soundly upon her shoulders.
"I know that you have certain ... acquaintances ... that disagree with this so-called marriage and union of our kingdoms." His words crawled down her spine like ice water, Kelv's admonishment of being careful of the company she kept ringing in her head. Sarena nearly stumbled, desperately wishing to be any place but walking besides the prince, but knowing that unless he willed it, she would never make it past the sahkrah.
"I don't know what you mean, Your Highness." The lie fell easily off of her lips, her words calm although she felt anything but calm at the moment. All of those late night gatherings, in dimly lit huts or within the forgotten store rooms of the Keep came back to her. Their numbers were few, but those in charge spoke of greater things and of people in power who would soon step up and speak out against the insanity that had taken hold of King Martine. All she had to do was bide her time, and when the fall-out came, she would not be harmed by it. No one would who knew what side to stand on.
He laughed, not a rich, mirth filled sound, but more a dark twisting sound that made the night air feel even cooler. "I've been watching you, and I know that you're not as stupid and simple as you want people to believe. Do you know why I know that? Because I'm not a simpleton, either, yet even my grandmother doesn't see beyond what I want her to see. She doesn't see anything beyond my dear sister."
The last was added as an afterthought, she was certain, muttered as it was under his breath. Though speculation ran high that Prince Calend'et and the Damiar Princess could not stand one another, this was the first true evidence Sarena had ever seen. She filed it away for later consideration . . . if she left here with enough of her dignity and poise in tact to warrant further consideration.
"I'll be honest, your people are not the only ones who . . . dislike the arrangement between your prince and my sister." The prince stopped talking and turned to face her, his eyes shining deviously in the pale moonlight. "Now, I have proposition for you, and I don't think that you'll be so stupid as to turn it down."
*** End of Chapter Thirty
