“I think perhaps I’ll summon your Sir Croy instead. That jumped-up man-at-arms needs to be taught a lesson one of these days. I think I’ll bring him here right now. And then you’ll tell him. You’ll list all the things you dream of doing with the thief. Sir Croy will have to stand here and listen while you describe all your filthy longings. How does that sound? Do you think he loves you enough to listen to that and forget everything he’s heard? Do you think he’d still love you as much after he heard those secrets?”

“If it would amuse you, master—”

He clucked his tongue in distaste. That was the worst part of the game. Even if she did maintain her composure, even if she swallowed her bile and kept her thoughts to herself, it simply angered him.

Sometimes that was worse.

“I could bring them both here, if you liked. I could bring them both to this room, right now, and make them fight over you. I could make them tear each other apart with their bare hands. Would you like that? Would it excite you, child, to see them struggle for your affections? Well? Would it?”

Cythera couldn’t help herself. A small sound started deep in her throat, a tiny whimper. When it came out of her mouth it was so soft she thought it must be lost in the noise of Hazoth’s chewing.

She was wrong.

“I’ve got you,” he said, and dropped the haunch back on the platter. He wiped his fingers on his robe and came to stand behind her, his meaty breath hot on her ear. “I got through, at last,” he whispered. “Both of them, no less! You care for them both!” He nearly giggled in his excitement. “Oh, Cythera, my dear, you’ll stretch your heart too thin! I’ll summon them both and make them both lust for you, shall I? Make them compete over who gets to deflower you first. Oh, I can see in your eyes how much you don’t want that.”

“I want nothing but—but—” she stammered.

He waved a greasy hand in dismissal. “Never you mind, Cythera. In point of fact, there’s no need to do any of that. In a few days it will be Ladymas. In the confusion of that day, Bikker will hunt them both down and butcher them while the watch is preoccupied.”

“Of course, master,” she managed. She had regained her composure once she knew he wouldn’t follow up on his threats. “May I go now?”

“I suppose,” Hazoth said. “I should really return to my studies.”

“Thank you, Magus,” Cythera said. She waited for him to transport her back to the preparatory.

He began to make the necessary passes in the air with his hands—but then stopped without warning.

It seemed he had one more thing to say.