Kehrsyn could not decide whether that last feature was grotesque or compelling.

For several long minutes, the only sound to be heard was the slight clink of Kehrsyn's chains as she shifted her weight. Despite the weight of scrutiny, she refused to drop her gaze.

The man spoke at last, with a rich, smooth baritone voice. "Here we find, amongst our number at last, the thief," he proclaimed in High Untheric. Kehrsyn raised her eyebrows. The last time she'd heard High Untheric, it had been booming from the sanctuary of the Gilgeamite temple as she'd been sneaking through the back rooms looking for donations to steal. But then, she'd never dealt with merchant princes before. "By which name art thou called, miscreant?" he asked.

"Kehrsyn," she said with far more confidence than she felt.

He inhaled through his nose, his linear lips pressed together.

"Hast thou an idea how I shall dispose of thee?" he asked, his voice and face devoid of emotion.

She narrowed her eyes and tried to cross her arms, but the chain prevented her from doing so. She settled with resting her hands on her hips.

"I suppose you'll be having your way with me," she said, bobbing her head as if trying to duck an invisible hand.

The corner of his mouth twitched, just once, a motion so slight that if she'd blinked she'd have missed it She didn't know if it was a twitch of lust, a smirk of amusement, or a simple sneer. He blinked and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. He looked carefully down Kehrsyn's body, from her neck to her feet, then back up to her eyes.

"I see before me the vigor of youth, an untamed colt, a bud eager to blossom into full womanhood yet entrapped by hunger and privation. Witness the energy constrained as in a seine, eager to break free anon and swim the seas of life. A year of hunger, and thy petals shall wither, their potential forever lost; a year of plenty, and the flush that even now graces thy body shall turn thy slender form into one of great loveliness. Thou hast height in excess of thy weight, and yet thou hast tamed thy awkward limbs. Thou shalt have a grace that makes even the great cats to weep with envy. The appearance of noble blood graceth thy face and carriage. Verily art thou now at the peak of thy desirability, where the delicate balance of beauty and anticipation, growth and ripening, is at its most precious: tilting, but not yet tilted."

He let his hands slowly drop to the table.

"Yet I see in thy eyes the difference between 'beaten' and 'broken,' and there is a world of difference betwixt. I myself have once explored that terrible wasteland. Were I of the sort to dishonor a woman in thy unfavorable position, I do believe that I would be in risk of my longevity."

He smiled slightly but sincerely. Kehrsyn shifted uncertainly and looked askance at the man.

She asked, "Then what do you want from me?"

"I should think that is self-evident. Thou hast perpetrated a crime upon this house."

"I know," said Kehrsyn bravely. "I figured you'd just either ruin me or kill me. Or both."

He winced ever so slightly.

"Please," he said, holding up one hand, "think thou more broadly. Execution I shall save as a distinct eventuality, but I shall hope to obviate its occurrence."

"What do you mean?" asked Kehrsyn.

"Clearly, thou wert not alone in this misdeed, for this was a masterful, knowledgeable work. Confess thou thy crime, and make thou thy repentance by naming thy fellows. This shall see thee free."

"I-I don't know their names," admitted Kehrsyn, "and I've only ever met one of them, anyway."

Her interrogator blinked several times in surprise.

"It's true," said Kehrsyn, desperation spilling her words out in rapid succession. "They were watching me in the courtyard, and they followed me, and they trapped me in this alley, and they framed me for killing this Zhent that I didn't kill but he thought I'd stolen something only I hadn't because this kid gave it to me, and the woman, she knew I hadn't stolen it, but she made it look like I did, and she gave me this-" Kehrsyn started to point to her slave brand but stopped herself short-"That is, they gave me this map to this building, and told me to steal this staff thing from you or else they'd tell the constables on me and I didn't even kill the guy, so I took it because I had to and maybe if I did it they'd let me join, and I could have a place to stay. See? And-"

She was just about to accuse Demok of allegiance to the thieves' guild, when her interrogator held up one hand for her to stop. He squeezed his eyes shut tight beneath a furrowed brow, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with the other hand. Kehrsyn's hands flipped over and over in her eagerness to spill her story, but she dared not continue until he seemed less annoyed.

"Sir," said Demok, "I can help."

Kehrsyn glanced at him suspiciously.

"Meanest thou that thou canst sort and interpret that singular volley, nay, that tempest of words?" the merchant asked.

"I can start," he replied. "I watched her… perform two days ago. Great skill. She left the Jackal's Courtyard. I followed."

Kehrsyn crinkled her nose in confusion. The guild's scout was obviously trying some sort of gambit to cover himself.

"Wherefore?" asked the merchant.

Demok blinked, looked at Kehrsyn, looked back at his employer, and said, "I thought her a good resource. Contractor or employee."

"I see," responded the man, drumming his fingers together.

"Within moments," Demok continued, "the watch raised an alarm. They said a woman had seen this one kill a Zhent."

"That's not true! She killed him and you know it!" blurted Kehrsyn, but she held her tongue when Demok nodded and gestured at her to be silent.

"The accusation was made," he said. "I don't believe it. Don't think she has it in her. Also saw a sorceress shadow her, not to capture, despite the reward."

"That was her," she said, half to Demok and half to the merchant prince. "The sorceress, I mean. She was the woman who got me into that trouble. She killed the Zhent but told the guards I did it, then she followed me to see how well I could get away from them. She said it was a test to see how good I was, but she was also trying to scare me into doing what she wanted. Luckily they didn't check out my hiding spot. Otherwise, I'd probably be a goner by now." Kehrsyn fidgeted with her shackled hands. "After that, she gave me the map and told me what to steal and where they wanted me to bring it, and, if I didn't, they'd either turn me in or just kill me."

"They?" asked the merchant.

"The thieves' guild," answered Kehrsyn.

"There's no thieves' guild in Messemprar," countered one of the guards.

Kehrsyn just shrugged.

"So thou wouldst have me believe that thou wert blackmailed into performing this theft, under threat of being turned over for this murder of which thou art innocent?"

"Murder of a deputized guard," clarified Demok.

Kehrsyn nodded meekly.

"It seemeth a fanciful alibi," grumbled Ahegi. "She shall be tortured for names and discarded."

"Fits what I saw," said Demok. "Zhent was killed. Caught her outside the Thayans'."

The merchant laced his fingers and tapped his thumbs together. He studied Kehrsyn, glanced at Demok, and studied Kehrsyn some more.

"Unchain ye her," he said in a soft voice, "and bring ye her a chair and some mulled wine."

The room burst into motion, and Kehrsyn found herself seated comfortably with a hot mug.

As he held the chair for her, Demok whispered, "Be grateful."

"Let us start of new," said the merchant.

Kehrsyn noticed that his baritone voice had softened. Her heart skipped a beat to hear someone with such power treating her with kindness and speaking so softly. Her experiences with those in power had heretofore always involved raised voices, commands, and threats. She nodded and tried to relax, but she ended up sitting forward in her chair, clutching the warm mug between her hands.