Aricia’s voice was sweet as honey and seemed to float on the air like a petal caught by a soft breeze. A quick glance at his friend’s face didn’t reveal anything, Sextus’ handsome features could have been carved out of marble for all the lack of expression. Idris settled for a charming smile along with a few polite words that were met with a soft, tinkling laughter like the sound of a tiny silver bell as she led her guests into another room. Either it was her usual style or she’d try to outdo herself with this evening’s arrangements. By the look of it nothing had been arranged at random; the Silure couldn’t get rid of the feeling that even the tiniest folds of the draperies were the result of a careful plan he didn’t know – yet.

The triclinium was splendid, although Sextus didn’t seem to register its carefully arranged atmosphere. Maybe he was used to Aricia’s ways or determined to exclude any outside influence in her presence. Without wanting to, Idris was impressed by all these arrangements and the careless display of wealth. The coals on a small brazier were sprinkled with precious exotic incense, scenting the air with the sensuous perfumes of the East, colourful murals rivalled for attention with draperies and painted statues. Why, he asked himself, did this woman live in an apartment instead of a spacious villa that obviously would meet her standards far better? “I’ve had a light meal prepared”, Aricia smiled, and with a graceful gesture she indicated at the couch to her left. “Aricia”, Sextus frowned, but she cut him short by running a perfectly manicured finger across his lips. “No, darling, let's not be fussy again! Why would you deny me the pleasure of dining in such delightful company?”

The delightful company in question had to stifle a grin and busied himself with studying the murals. After they’d reclined on the couch assigned to them, Idris found himself caught between Sextus to his left and Aricia, on another couch, to the right. She clapped her hands and Idris stared at the procession that entered the room. Sextus had been right; his wife had prepared the stage for a grand show. Several slaves filed into the room, all of them as perfectly shaped as the one who’d received them – only that they were lacking even the smallest piece of fabric as their loincloths had been replaced by finely wrought and deceivingly simple looking golden chains and wires, forming intricate patterns on their carefully oiled skin that glistened in so many different hues from fair to almost black, and, since all body hairs had been removed, left nothing to the imagination.

Idris didn’t look at Sextus. He didn’t have to. The small smile along with the glitter in his wife’s blue eyes showed the Silure that her surprise had had its desired effect upon his friend. As far as he was concerned, Aricia couldn’t have made a worse choice in case she’d aimed at his desires as well. After having looked into the slaves’ impassionate faces, Idris, now thoroughly sobered, stared into the depths of his cup; the wine had turned to vinegar in his mouth as he felt an old rage boiling up within himself. Only after he’d fought back the initial emotions he looked up and allowed his gaze to take in every detail the slaves had to offer, as obviously was expected – and his eyes only revealed the heat of the fire raging inside him, not its source, a heat Aricia interpreted as lust. Finally he met her gaze and inclined his head politely. “Your taste and style are as refined as you are, domina”, the Silure said with a husky voice, politely raised his cup and offered their hostess a charming, appreciative smile. Mistaking this double-edged praise as a compliment, Aricia returned the smile and clapped her hands again for the first course to be served. Her speculative gaze rested on the Silure as an idea took root in her mind.