Thank you for the reviews! I'd practically abandoned writing altogether when I checked my e-mail. You guys are still the best (squeals girlishly)! I probably will have to bump up the rating, but I plan on putting out at least this chapter first. So, look for only the most subtle smut and sexual references. Sorry! Updates will be every other day. Let me know how y'all like the new format and semi-different style.

Kel promptly discarded every visible sign of her anger. Or, to be more precise, futively attempted to call upon a childhood of conscious emotional repression to combat her first . . . Well, she didn't know what she would call that 'encounter' with her buyer. It certainly wasn't unpleasant, per se, just different, she thought numbly. And why was he still there! Shouldn't he be doing anything other then lying there with that little smirk on his . . .! Kel found that it was an exceedingly bad idea to muse on Raston's lips, which he was currently using to speak.

"So," he drawled languidly. "Can I have your name now?"

Kel glared more furiously. Did he think she was an idiot?

"No penalties for talking, just so you know." Raston was making placating hand gestures, odd from his position on the floor of her room. "And the silence thing will be a little hard to keep up. You'll be here for a while."

Kel was assuredly not impressed. Raston, despite his attempts to placate her, appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. All Kel was sure was that she wanted him out and out now! She couldn't think about anything other then murdering him at the present. Kel needed a plan. Unfortunately, the only one she could come up with was repulsive, degrading, and contrary to nearly every value her parents, friends, and even training master, had imposed on her. It was also the only plan she had.

Kel steeled her heart, shut off her sensibilities and dredged up the saddest scene of the most heartrenching play Neal had ever forced her to listen to.

"Why are you crying?" Raston looked alarmed. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

Kel sobbed harder. Apparently, she had been a bit rash at scoffing at her sisters' early plans for world domination (a phase they had quickly grown out of). Men really couldn't stand seeing crying females.

"Just go," Kel gasped out through the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please!"

Her speaking appeared to only increase the worried expression on Raston's face. He stood up awkwardly, and held up his hands.

"Look, this is the way the game is played!" His eyes darted from side to side. Kel inwardly grinned. Apparently, the good-looking, rich, and obviously sexually experienced could also be completely inept at comforting women. Raston appeared to be attempting to turn himself invisible through sheer willpower and the most odd hand gestures she had ever seen. Kel briefly considered feigning offence. She was foreign, after all. Raston might believe that his current conciliatory hand gesture, which bore uncanny resemblance to a butterfly floating in the wind, might translate to 'filthy whore' in Tortall. But she might not have to pretend offence. Raston was currently shoving his hands down his pants, in an apparent effort to find something. Kel was not going to speculate on what exactly he had lost. But what Raston was pulling out from his pants was perhaps the most surprising thing that she had seen this trip. It was a bright pink silk handkerchief.

"You could use this to, you know . . ." Raston's words trailed off as he handed Kel the scrap of fabric. She took it dumbly. This certainly was an interesting arrangement, she mused as she dried her eyes. Her 'master' was beginning to reveal himself as being little more then an overly affected teenage boy, not unlike Neal. Hardly a dark mysterious presence. Though this presence, or lack thereof, was now urging her, with more conventional hand gestures, to sit on her bed. Kel sat. So did Raston.

He broke the relative silence abruptly.

"Its alright." Kel saw his jaw tense as she stared at him. It slowly relaxed. "No, I mean that," he began almost gently. "While you're here, no one will ever hurt you. I'll never hurt you." Raston moved one of his hands to Kel's shoulder, massaging it comfortingly. Kel stopped crying in shock. Raston's hand continued to move, mapping out her neck, tracing her spine delicately, and finally moving to the sensitive skin of her lower back. Once again, his touch didn't feel at all unpleasant, just odd. Raston opened he mouth; Kel knew what he was going to ask, knew what he would ask every day, and she was already sick of the question. So Kel struck first.

Kel reached behind her, grabbed and twisted. Raston's question turned into a yelp, as he found himself thumping face foreword onto her sheets. It was several minutes before he began gesturing. Kel sighed, and turned him over., expecting to be the recipient of a long lecture on her 'status,' or the privileges she was enjoying.

Smoldering dark eyes bore into hers. And Raston was, quite obviously, even to a virgin like Kel, aroused. To say Kel was dumbfounded would be a huge understatement. She did not attempt to stop Raston as he got off her bed and walked towards the door. At the threshold he paused.

"Tomorrow then?"

"Yes"

He swept out the door.

A/N Any guesses on where this is going? I have the next two chapters outlined, so

I know . . .