“It’s women like you who are my inspiration,” Atre purred. “Your wit, your charm, the delicacy of your demeanor.” He raised his wine cup to her and announced to their circle of admirers, “I shall include a beautiful courtesan in my next production. When you see her, know she is but my pale effort at homage to the beautiful Myrhichia.”

The others clapped and laughed approvingly. Myrhichia gave him a twinkling smile as she pulled a handsome golden pin set with a citrine from her dark hair and presented it to him. “Such gallantry deserves better reward, but perhaps this will do until I view the completed effort.”

Atre tucked it behind his ear like a flower and kissed her hand again. “You are too kind.”

The evening went on in that vein, flirtatious and witty, but after a time Atre began to get the distinct impression that she was politely putting him off. The more he continued to woo her, the more she spread her favors among the other young bloods. Atre continued to smile, tamping down his resentment. He’d have had any other woman—noble or whore—upstairs by now. It was becoming a matter of pride.

At last the others drifted away with their own conquests of the evening. Myrhichia was hiding yawns behind her fan.

Atre pressed Myrhichia’s hand to his heart and gave her his most ardent look. “You’ve won my heart. Don’t break it so quickly.”

“Break your heart? Why would I do such a thing, Master Atre?”

“The hour grows late and I fear you’ll want me to leave you. Please, my shining star, don’t send me away.”

The woman’s smile faltered at that. “Oh, dear Master Atre …”

“What’s wrong, lovely one?”

She took his hand in both of hers. “I’m so sorry. I thought your friends would have told you.”

A little speck of coldness flared under Atre’s heart, but still he kept up his attentive mask. “Told me what?”

She paused meaningfully, skillful as any actress. “I’m so flattered by your attentions tonight. You’re such a delightful man. But I don’t—entertain actors.”

“Ah.” He gave her a look of fondest regret. “My apologies for discomforting you.”

“I’m so sorry!” She sounded quite sincere.

“Think nothing of it. The pleasure of your company is delight enough.” He took the citrine pin from behind his ear. “Perhaps I should return this to its rightful owner?”

“Oh, please keep it,” she said, folding his fingers around it. “As a token of my regard, and for all the pleasure you’ve given me onstage, and tonight. I hope you’ll visit again.”

“Of course I shall!” He rose and kissed her hand one last time. “Know that you occupy a very special place in my heart, broken though it may be.”

Chapter 12 - Strangers in the Night