Qeteb smirked in satisfaction. The tone of DragonStar's voice was enough, in itself, to make the probable loss of Raspu bearable.
"No-one," he said. "I had grown bored and merely invented a question to while away the time."
DragonStar closed his eyes and cleared his mind, hoping that SpikeFeather and Azhure were safe enough in the waterways.
As far as he knew the Demons had never ventured down there ... but was that assumption correct enough to assure of Katie's continued safety?
One lunchtime Raspu entered the kitchen to find one of the footmen leaning against a maid with his hand nestled inside her open blouse.
As the footman saw Raspu, he leaned away from the girl, slowly pulling out his hand.
The girl's round, firm breast was exposed to Raspu's gaze before she pulled the material of her blouse closed.
Raspu, tired by a morning of chasing after a small and almost empty jar of boot black — only to find it on the shelf where it was supposed to be anyway — merely ignored both servants and sat down at the table.
The cook almost dropped his plate of tripe before him, and milk sauce splattered over the table.
Raspu opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.
He was too tired, and far too hungry, to be bothered. Later, perhaps.
And then, later, the girl who'd let the footman grope her in the kitchen accosted Raspu in a dimly lit corridor as the Demon was walking slowly, tiredly, towards his room for bed.
"I should explain meself," the girl mumbled, standing before the Demon.
Raspu sighed. "This can wait until morning," he said, and tried to push past her.
But she clung to his arm, and he stumbled to a halt.
He noticed her mouth, and remembered the maid who'd pouted so seductively at him. Was this the same girl?
He felt a stirring of interest.
One should never be intimate with those to whom you must issue orders and directions. That was the forty-eighth rule (in a total of seventy-two) of the "Butler's Code of Conduct" which sat neat and trim and orderly in a workmanlike frame above his pillow.
Raspu had read it assiduously when he'd first embarked upon this ridiculous challenge. But now, as the girl pressed her warm and curiously pliable flesh against him, and pouted her mouth just so, Raspu wondered if perhaps he'd passed the test a long time ago.
Surely he'd done enough? Proved himself beyond doubt?
"He's not important to me," the girl murmured, and Raspu gave a start of shock — and desire — as he realised that one of her hands had crept down between his legs.
"Who?" he managed.
"The footman. Pete."
"Oh." The girl's hand was very bold, and Raspu supposed he should say or do something about it, but...
"It's only you I care about," the girl whispered, and now somehow her blouse had fallen open, and Raspu found that one of his hands was kneading at her breast.
"You're so strong," she whispered, "and so powerful. You've given everyone such a scare."
She thrust her breast more firmly against his hand and Raspu groaned.
"I do like a man with authority," she said, and shivered enticingly as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes.
That was enough for Raspu. Tearing away his butler's stiff black coat and grey-striped trousers, he threw her to the floor and took her there and then.
If she wanted authority, then who was he to deny it to her?
Deep in her watchful seclusion, Gwendylyr grinned. He was almost lost. There remained only one more small test.
"Y'see," the footman said, "there's no reason why we shouldn't do it, is there?"
His voice was very persuasive, and Raspu looked about at the rest of the staff gathered together in the kitchen.
The maid he'd enjoyed — several times — the previous night, ran a tip of pink tongue over her lower lip, and one of her hands crept caressingly over her belly.
"It's only a packet or two here and there," the footman continued. "The mistress'll never miss it."
"And it's not like we don't deserve it," another footman said.
"What with the wages we get, and all," said the cook.
"I know you don't get paid much —" a small, red-haired maid to one side began, and Raspu stared at her. He'd never thought about how much he got paid. Was it not good enough for him?
"— and yet we all know how hard you work," she continued.
Raspu nodded. Yes, he did work hard, didn't he?
