Thank the bookie

The coolest part about fighting in the slums is depending on the time of day you can actually win a good chunk of gold coins for just one fight. You got pretty lucky with this fight, it being a Saturday night which means sometimes you get royals from the inner city coming to bet and watch the fights.

"Thank you." you tell the bookie as you open up your satchel and throw the handful of gold coins in it. That should be enough for at least two weeks you grin to yourself.

"I suppose, Congratulations are in order." a feminine voice says behind your back.

You looked over your shoulder and caught eyes with the voice. Turning your body toward her.

"Here" she fumbles around with her hands, eventually pulling out a small white piece of cloth. She brings it up to your face, wiping away a streak of blood before giving it to you. "For your hands." she smiles at you.

"Uhhh" you stumble on your words "Tha....Thanks..."

The way she was dressed just screamed royalty. Well, that and the two bodyguards standing tall next to her, each with a hand on the grip of their swords ready to defend her if needed. She was exotic. Olive skin, light brown hair in a single long braid that went to just about her middle back. Plenty of jewels and pins in her hair. She stood somewhat short, 5 foot 3 was your guess. Her outfit of choice, a yellow dress that flowed down her body. A golden chain hugged her hips, pinning her dress tight to her, showing off her perfect hourglass figure. Smaller chest, probably only large A's, maybe small Bs, but her legs were something to die for. The slit that traveled up the side of her dress from her ankle to mid thigh. "Mmmm" your eyes trailed her body. She had plenty of make up on, especially around her eyes. Dark blue swirls playing tricks around the sides of her eyes, trailing down to her cheek. Small diamond-like jewels around the outer edge of her left eye lid and a tight golden choker an inch wide wrapped around her neck.

"You are quite the specimen." the woman starts as she's looking over your still shirtless body. She reaches her hand out, trailing her index finger around your pecs.

You just stood there, dumbfounded. With a layer of dirt and sweat covering your body, with your beard grown out and untrimmed, with that pungent odor coming off you from being in the slums with no great way to clean yourself. She looked at you like a piece of meat. You were surprised this woman had you so mesmerized.

She lowers her hand that was tracing your pectoral muscles, bringing it into your waiting hand. "Karisi." she says softly "You can call me Lady Karisi."