Wiran sighed. "I wish you would at least try to civil. You look positively hideous like that."

Glareing, Onora felt the tug once more and scowled before placing both feet on the floor.
"Happy?"

"I am convinced that happiness is an artificial feeling, felt only by the naive," Wiran responded coldly, noticing that his glass was empty. He stood to refill it.

"Content?" she asked after wards, folding her leanly muscles arms over her chest and glaring.

Wiran nodded. "That is better."

Onora rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in annoyance before stareing him down. "Why did you bring me here?"

Wiran shrugged. "I suppose mostly because Sii suggested it. Also, the more slaves one has, the higher one's position in society. You happen to be my twentieth, making me a rather substantial social figure," he said blandly.

"So I'm just another notch on the branch...another whore in your bed" she bit vilely before spitting on the table with the last word she'd said.

Wiran regarded her evenly, expressionlessly. "If you want to look at it that way, yes, you are."

Onora rolled her eyes and scowled "You will get no where with me...a Loctarian flower may be pretty to look at but get too close and they're poisonous. In my case...the bite is worse then the bark."