Any other ideas?

He thought respect meant to be polite? He had some of the strangest ideas in the world. Her mare words seemed to twist under his skin so easily, but he seemed too afraid to let his monster out. Politeness mattered to him. Such a simple concept, one that meant to shit to anyone she knew. Oh, they were going to be a bad mix. She was stuck with him, the monster who needed politeness first and foremost!

She had no words for him, not right now. Why would they teach her honour or dignity? Her job was to lie horizontal while they whored her out to whoever they pleased. To pick up after their drunken messes, and be their punching bag. Seemed Oleander wanted a punching bag too, but he was back to his pretending. It was too late, she had seen.

She got to her paws when he bid her too, she was still frustrated and angry and confused, and heart sick. Her mother had given up her life for this, and Vesper was back where she had started. “Whatever pleases you more, my Lord.” To scar, or not to scar. What did he want his slave's face to look like?


"Speech"