After the death of her abusive teacher, apprentice monster slayer Vero must take her first contract on her own. She's been hired to exorcise a baleful spirit which has possessed the mind of a minor earl and turned him against his feudal lord. Howeve...
They returned to Greenvale Hall in high spirits. Rabbit meat was peasants' fare, but Jean ordered the hares they caught to be skinned and roasted for supper anyway.
"You don't mind such rustic cuisine, I hope." Jean mentioned absent mindedly as he cut portions for each of them.
"Not at all. I was always taught it wasn't right to kill an animal unless you intended to eat it- and I've always had a taste for conies and potatoes." Vero attempted to imitate the lackadaisical Umbrian accent. Not very successfully, but that was a part of the jape.
"I'm glad to hear it."
He loaded their plates and she sat closer to him. He put an arm around her waist. They spoke casually while they ate, the topics were all unimportant as they were principally interested in one another. Occasionally someone would interrupt them on their own business, but Jean dismissed them with all the speed court manners allowed him.
She was tempted by the pitcher of wine, but only drank in moderation. She realized that she was coming near to making a decision, and the responsibility of the act made her wish for the escape of alcohol. She kept her sobriety with difficulty. When they had eaten and the hour began to grow late Vero made her choice at last.
She leaned to close to Jean to whisper in his ear. "Will you make love to me tonight?"
Jean was surprised only for a moment. "If that is what you wish. Are you certain?"
She nodded.
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Vero went to the master bedroom with Antoinette. The private rooms of the Lord of Greenvale were not so grand as those of some halls they had visited before, although they were still much richer than any accommodation Vero had ever slept in before she met Jean.
Antoinette took off Vero's dress and jewels to put them away. Then she began to brush the knots Vero had acquired out of her hair. The ruby tresses now came down almost as far as her shoulders. She hated the way it covered her face, and loved the way Jean ran his fingers through the long strands. So, it went uncut and slowly grew longer.
Antoinette kissed her good-night, as she always did, and left. Vero lay on top of the bed over the blankets. Everything was quiet. The host had dismissed the company and now the revelers had either lain down to sleep, or gone elsewhere to seek still further revels. She used her hands to obscure her sex. Then she closed her eyes.
She opened them again when she heard the door. Jean entered without his squire. His gaze drifted over her slowly and Vero suddenly had a bizarre fantasy that she was being crawled over by ten thousand spiders, and that she dare not move, lest they sting her with their venomous bites.
Jean removed his own clothes.
He was very beautiful, terribly so. His manners were so well disciplined that it was very easy for her to forget that a prince's first duty was as a soldier. His body was a tapestry of scars, lines of musculature, and the ink from the discrete tattoos he wore over his heart and right arm. Slayers were forbidden to pierce their bodies or to mark them with permanent ink, but in the regions near the White Sea where she was born it was common for men to prove their courage that way. It made the practice tremendously attractive to her.
