Lady Relia has questions

The two of you take the time to eat from the platters of food left out for you. You don't know about someone of Lady Relia's status, but this is by far the best food you've eaten since the siege began. Three plates of food and several goblets wine of with barely any added water later you smile at the woman who may have just saved your life.

As you eat, you glance again at the dress brought for Relia to wear. Despite the opportunity to cover herself, Relia leaves the dress where it hangs, seemingly content for now with the under-tunic whose slashes reveal much of her inner legs when she moves. Perhaps, like you, she is aware that theses robes have undoubtably been torn from the struggling body of some other fine lady of Athenapolis. Perhaps even a friend or acquaintance of hers.

You wonder if she is ever going to pull on the robes brought for her. Is she nervous about changing with you in the tent or is she deliberately teasing you with her the flashes of skin, like her slaves told you she'd tease her suitors? Suddenly conscious of your attention Lady Relia wipes a trickle of dipping sauce from her chin and tugs modestly at her tunic, the effect is mixed at best. Although the gaps in the lower part close slightly the top of her tunic is pulled even lower revealing the soft curve of her breasts.

An awkward silence fills the tent, and you can hear the normal hubbub of an army camp just outside. Mixed in among the banging of the armorers, calling of waterboys and marching of hard-soled feet are the less common slap of flesh on flesh and the high-pitched cries for mercy from what could only be one of the recent captives brought back from the front lines. Relia is clearly aware of the sounds and their significance for her; she moves a little closer so she can lower her voice into a conspiratorial whisper.

"What if the Lord Marshal doesn't believe us?" Perhaps it's the undiluted wine, or maybe the relief you feel at being alive, but you answer Lady Relia too loudly with a coarse laugh.

"Then we're fucked, Lady Relia." You tell her as you flop down on the one-armed couch at the back of the tent. The mahogany piece is beautifully upholstered in a dark green velvet embroidered with golden thread and you can't help but speculate if this heavy piece of furniture was shopped down the river to Athenapolis on one of the many barges that supply the besieging army or if it was looted from one of the riverside mansions that had been abandoned by the wealthy owners as the United Army tightened its noose around the city. "I'll be fucked figuratively. With no drake, no gear and no money I'll be no better than one of those Galatian mercenaries." You take another big swallow of wine, "but you, my pretty little thing, you are going to fucked for real." Relia gasps softly but refuses to accept your opinion.

"But wouldn't I be worth more if I'm sold untouched by a man?" She counters, clearly living in some fantasy world. "And at the great **** auction one of my suitors will redeem me." If it were not for her attempt to betray her city, this noblewoman might be indeed bought by one of her suitors, although there is a good chance that after the way she teased them that she'd be fucked just like any other ****. But that's not why Lady Relia will be in trouble if the Lord Marshal can't confirm her accusation, men like Raxius are not motivated by money the way a common man might be.

"Don't put too much faith in your precious chastity, my Lady. When Athenapolis falls the market is going to be glutted with virgins." You tell her the hard facts, "Even if that wasn't true, do you think men like the Lord Marshal or Prince Anochises give a damn about money?" Relia shudders and takes another half step towards you. "If they believe that this is just an attempt to sow discord between the allies of the army with no basis in fact, I expect that you'll be double-teamed by the two men most injured by your lies." Seeing her reaction to your drunken brutality, you try to offer her some consolation.

"You worry too much, Lady Kiriakolis." Taking her soft hands in yours you squeeze them firmly. "Your intel is good, and the Lord Marshal is a smart man. You might not be able to go back to your estate in Athenapolis, but there must be somewhere that you could go to start your life over again. Do you have any resources in other city-states?"

"My family owns a small holding in Apollopol -" she pauses in mid sentence "- Oh goddess, I still have to pay you." You have been wondering if there was a diplomatic way to bring that up, but to your delight Relia pulls out the small pouch from between her breasts and hands it to you without a moment of hesitation. The soft leather bag is still warm and smells of jasmine.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you try a bit of banter. "If you pay this well, I'll fly you there myself." Too late you remember Relia's responsiveness as she sat on the **** saddle during that short ride. Hermes, you'd fly her anywhere she wanted to go for free for a chance to have her like that again. Lady Relia blushes and pulls her hands free from yours confirming that you just made the moment even more awkward.

"No offence Rider, but that must be the least comfortable saddle ever invented." She turns away slightly so you only see a hint of the bright color on her cheeks.

"To be fair, Lady Relia, the saddle is designed more for the comfort of the Rider than the woman seated on it." You see her nod slowly as if you've just confirmed something important. After a few heartbeats of silence she returns to the topic.

"That young Rider who threatened you called it a **** saddle?" You nod silently lifting your shoulders in what you hope is a disarming shrug. "But you knew I was a free-woman - a noblewoman - and yet you still tied me to your drake like I was a toy to be used."

"I was the only other saddle I had," you defend yourself "and you were pretty insistent on getting out of Athenapolis."

"Have you done that to other free-women?" In spite of your best attempts to hide the effects, this conversation is getting you excited and Relia knows it. She approaches gracefully, moving surprisingly quickly until her knees are between yours; once in position her hand lowers slowly until it cups the bulge in your loincloth. "You have, haven't you!" The once modest lady of Athenapolis seems almost gleeful at catching you in this condition. "Tell me, Rider Korban, were they still free women when they landed at their destination, or were they just another Rider captive, broken-in and chained to be sold for some drinking money?" Your gaze never leaves her eyes as you nod slowly confirming her suspicions.

"And were any of them virgins like me?" Her breathing is short and deep and you feel her fingers squeezing your manhood.