"Andre Norton & Lackey, Mercedes - Elvenbane 3 - Elvenborn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Andre)

the mist.
He felt a tentative touch on his wrist, and belatedly returned his
attention to his current favorite. He looked down at her, and saw
by the furtive color in her cheek, her moist lips, and her shining
eyes that the dance--and the sighs and vague shapes moving
in the mist around them--had produced the effect he had
anticipated on her, as well.
"Lord," the slave breathed, looking up at him coyly from beneath
her long, fluttering lashes, "Do you wish my--further service this
evening?"
Though untouched, she was by no means unaware of the
duties of a concubine, and it was clear from the moist
eagerness in her eyes that she was ready to fulfill those duties.
He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring what he was about
to do. He had ways of controlling the slaves he trained that
went beyond, far beyond, the slave-collar and magic coercion.
He had subtle tortures that were far more sophisticated than
anything Tennith dreamed of.
"I don't believe so," he said, just as casually as if he were
rejecting a not-quite-ripe fruit. Then he looked down at her and
frowned. "My dear child--is something troubling you? You
seem to be a little--puffy tonight. Or perhaps you have just
gained a little weight? Perhaps you should return to your
quarters."
The girl put her hand to her mouth, stifling a sob; her eyes
brightened further with tears. Quickly as a fluttering bird, she
fled into the mist.
He chuckled to himself. He had carefully manipulated her mind
for weeks now, and this carefully chosen moment was the
beginning of a delightful interlude.
He had made a point of praising her slender figure, of leaving
no doubt that he treasured her slimness. Doubting her own
mirror, certain that she had lost her real beauty, and desperate
to gain his regard, she would begin starving herself from this
moment. At first he would taunt her by references to plump
arms and chubby cheeks, by inquiries if she thought she ought
to change her diet. Once she truly began to starve herself, he
would switch to the next phase. She would begin refusing food.
He, of course, would urge all manner of dainties on her, which
she would eat unwillingly, only to purge herself of them at the
earliest opportunity.
His lips curved in a slight smile. Watching her torture herself, all
the while certain that he was still as gentle and considerate as
ever, would be highly amusing. Eventually, she would probably
die, of course, but not before he gained a great deal of pleasure
from watching her ridiculous sufferings. If he was feeling
generous, he might even save her, wiping out her memories of
everything up to this moment so that he could sell her to
someone else. In any case, there would be weeks, possibly
months, of pleasure ahead.