Slave Unbound Ch. 25

The thought made her smirk at herself. She quickly took a sip of the tea, letting its terrible flavor erase the expression. She wasn't sure when she'd begun to develop such a soft spot or how Leita had managed to so easily find it, but she found herself looking forward to the look of gratitude that would likely be on the girl's face.

Perhaps it should be Leita that she made into her new concubine. While she lacked the glamor and polish to serve the real purpose of that role, that of a shiny jewel on her arm, Leita had become someone that Sabrina enjoyed her time with. Gods help her, someone that Sabrina found herself trusting for some reason. She'd never let her guard down with a slave, or anyone, as much as she found herself doing with Leita.

"Such a rare and exotic taste. Don't you agree, dear?" Farrah burbled, face straining to keep a pleased expression, despite her obvious dislike of the foul beverage.

"It's everything I could have expected." Sabrina replied cordially, wondering how she could possibly pour it out without the Baroness seeing. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the footman, coffer full of coins, standing just off from the door leading out onto the terrace. Luckily, he was positioned where Farrah couldn't see him, as he was obviously meaning to be in Sabrina's eye-line that she could signal him when she wanted him to approach.

With utmost poise, Sabrina turned her attention absently out towards the grand gardens spread out below them. "I will never know how they manage to get so many Garsian Orchids to bloom out of season like that. It must take something akin to magic."

Farrah's face scrunched in surprise. "Those are Garsian Orchids?" She asked, turning her full attention out over the railing and straining to better make out the blossoms far below them. The Baroness loved flowers and went on about how gardening was a favorite hobby of hers, despite that she'd never planted anything with her own two hands in her whole life.

With her focus on trying to make out the flowers, Sabrina took the opportunity to signal to the footman that the coffer was no longer needed and to return to the carriage. She also took the chance to pour the contents of her teacup into a nearby potted plant.

"I'm quite certain those are just a breed of lily, dear." Farrah said in an admonishing tone, as though disappointed that Sabrina could make such a mistake.

"Oh, my goodness, how silly of me." Sabrina pretended to be embarrassed as the Baroness turned back to her. "Of course, I was never as good of a gardener as you, my Lady." She gave a sheepish smile and further pretended to take a deep sip of her now empty cup.

As expected, the subtle compliment smoothed over everything, as well as shifted all attention away from the distraction. "Oh, how kind of you, dear. I do take much pride in my green thumb, as you know. In fact, I recently had some great success in blooming some Maltrian Ivyclimbers recently, which is quite the feat in this climate." She beamed proudly, as though it was her that did any of the work and not her professional gardeners.

Sabrina feigned interest in the story that followed, though she heard none of it. Farrah would not likely even notice if she fell asleep, but better to keep up appearances. While the noblewoman nattered on, the HouseMistress's mind began spinning fresh webs, free now to plot without fear of interference.

However, something snagged in her thoughts. Cornelius. He was aware that Leita was still alive and he was part of the Baroness' social circles, even if she pretended not to care for him. Should he say something, either by accident or by intention, to Farrah, there might be some considerable drama. She would need to take some steps to ensure that didn't happen.

Cornelius was too powerful to do anything drastic to, but he was very someone she knew how to manipulate, when she needed to. While very cunning and ruthless, Cornelius's weaknesses were always his pride, arrogance, and libido. Between those three, she could find some way to bind his mouth shut on the subject of Leita.

She would just need the right opportunity. With some luck, that too would simply fall into her lap. Still, she couldn't afford to wait long, as there was no telling when Farrah would next run across him. Not to mention, if he should learn that he had something he could use against Sabrina, he would not hesitate to mine it for more than it was even worth.

Cornelius didn't handle being caught off guard well, but if you gave him time to prepare and plan, he could be exceedingly dangerous and effective. She had to move first or he might well ensure that she had no move to make.

For now, she tore her mind from its thoughts and forced herself to focus back onto the tedium of listing to the Baroness jabber on. She would eventually expect Sabrina to reply to something or comment on whatever inane thing she'd been dribbling over.

"...that's when I told him that I could not possibly wear such a thing. Wool linen is for commoners! And no one is dressed in brown who can afford proper dyes." She paused, shaking her head and heaving a sigh. "The audacity! Can you imagine?"

"It would have been an absolute scandal." Sabrina replied vacantly, not particularly caring what it was she was talking about, but certain it would be a suitable response.

"Indeed!" The Baroness agreed. "The nerve of such a suggestion. And they say he is a professional." She shook her head. "More tea, darling?"

Sabrina quickly lifted her cup, to avoid Farrah from having Barton put more of the nasty tea into it, and pretended to drain off the last of the non-existent contents. "Oh, no. I fear I may ruin my ability to drink any lesser brews if I indulge in such delicacies too much." She gave a little titter, inwardly cringing at her own excuse.

Farrah took a moment to consider the comment, looking at the small pot appraisingly. "A very fair point, darling. Perhaps we should switch to Dasidonian Royal tea. To, uh, preserve our ability to enjoy these more exotic blends."

Sabrina gave an expression that suggested she was in awe of the Baroness's infinite wisdom. "An excellent thought, my Lady."