We were on the outskirts of a new town.
Small enough not to matter, big enough to promise a scam.
"She gambled you away," he said again, slow and disbelieving.
I nodded, picking at a scab on my elbow. "Uh-huh."
"You didn't escape?"
I snorted. "Gods, no. What do you think I am, a folk hero? I sat in that damn cage cart for two days with straw up my crotch and a goat for a roommate. Slaver had halitosis and called me 'peach.'"
He blinked.
"I didn't even bite him," I added. "Didn't see the point. He already owned me. Took one look at my thighs and said I'd fetch double if I kept my mouth shut. I didn't, obviously."
He waited. I didn't want to say the rest. So of course I did.
"They shipped me to Iolika. Fancy place. Gilded gates, perfumed air, eunuch guards in silk slippers. Classy as fuck. They called it a 'wellness retreat for discerning gentlemen.'"
His brow rose. I nodded.
"Yeah. It was a brothel. But posh. Like, warm baths and fresh fruit posh. I had my own room. Velvet curtains. Sheets that didn't smell like dead sailor." I paused. "Discipline was brutal, though. You messed up, they made you watch the 'education' sessions. Girls screaming through forced contortions while some old madame yelled about posture and moaning in key."
He flinched.
"I saw a girl get whipped for burping. Another for crying. Me?" I got the cane for back-talking a priest. He wanted me to call him Father. I said he could call me Daughter if he tipped double."
I smiled. It didn't reach.
"Funny thing is," I said, "Madam Zoobaya didn't even ask for me back. Didn't try to undo the deal. Probably didn't want the mouth. Slaver kept my sandals, by the way. Said they made his niece look tall."
The Dragon finally spoke, quiet: "How long were you there?"
I shrugged. "Few months? Long enough to learn how to fake a full-body shiver on cue and memorize a dozen wine vintages I'd never taste."
He didn't say anything for a long time. Just watched the fire.
Finally, I stretched out, arms behind my head like this was just another night.
"Anyway. That's how I left Madam Zoobaya's. Not with a bang. With a sale receipt."
Pause.
"Bet she lost those dice on purpose."
Another pause.
"And she knew I'd look fabulous in a cage."
He didn't laugh. So I did. Loud. Fake. Real enough.
Because if I didn't laugh at it, I might actually remember what it felt like. And nobody wants that.