"Let me be frank with you, Vesrik, since you're clearly too enamored with yourself to read between the lines." Once again the hairbrush was set down, and she turned to him with a flutter of her eyelashes as she crossed the room towards him. "You have my letters. If it weren't so cowardly to hide behind a woman's secrets, I would almost respect your nerve." Almost. "So, here's the deal. You'll do as you're told. It could be a good deal for you -- knowing the when's and the where's, and you won't even have to work for it. If I don't get what I want, you'll do more than simply lose those letters..." She had stepped by him and paused just over his shoulder. "You have a certain reputation among the Court, Vesrik." Her hand settled on his shoulder, fingers lightly tracing down his arm as she murmured into his ear, "So when the head inquisitor demands to know the names of all those I've betrayed my husband for, I'll make sure your name is on that list. And I'll be sure I have the witnesses to prove it."
Continuing towards the desk, she lifted a single item from the desktop. This time, twirling the letter opener around her hand looked much more impressive -- and more deadly. "You can, of course, refuse my generous offer, Vesrik. You wouldn't be the first man who has tried to fuck me to die. Just the first who is physically inadequate for the job." The dark glitter that had touched her face earlier had all-but blossomed across her features now as she approached him again. There was a seductive swagger in her hips and the warm, almost orgasmic enthusiasm in her tone that had been missing previously. "Do you want to hear my favorite part? It isn't the rush of warm blood running over my hands or way that little spark of light fades from their eyes... It's the fear -- that moment when they realize they've made a mistake and that it has cost them everything. And you can smell it...even before they empty their bowels. It's a heavy musk that stings your nose and clings to them long after they've died."
The Grand Duchess stopped a few feet from Vesrik; instead of brandishing it towards him, she pressed the sharp instrument against the strings of her corset running along her right side...and with one, fluid motion, she tore through the laces. The corset first sagged, as if unsure what to do, then burst open to reveal the silken shift underneath...and it was already turning a bit red from the cut along her side, no doubt caused when she had cut away the corset. It was a small cut...but it would prove her point.
"'He tried to rape me,' I'll tell them. And all the while, Dekka will be searching for those letters... And, if he can't find them..." Tears shone in her eyes. "'He made me write them. He said if I didn't, he'd kill me. And when he came back...'"
Men were always suckers for a crying woman, after all.
"Now, which option works best for you? Work for me -- keep the letters as an insurance policy and earn a little extra coin, not to mention my undying gratitude -- or work against me. It's your choice."
(OOC: I...got so carried away, Spice. SO CARRIED AWAY. Also, uh, yeah, look, it's the old Kathryn! Who knew she was buried in there somewhere? ;_; Let me know if this needs revisioning, and it shall be revisioned.)
