Chapter Text

William folded a striped towel. «May I request information about one of your slaves?» Asked the angles of the creases.

Cassius sprinkled water onto it with his left hand. «What sort of information are you after?» Replied the arrangement of the droplets.

«I want one of them to serve me.» William replied by adjusting his tie, his left hand in front as his right tightened the knot. It was the left hand that indicated service and the right hand that spoke of personal service to him. Had he then gestured outward, the act would have suggested, instead, service to Cassius.



He trusted Cassius to fill in the gaps: had this been about a fellow vampire, his approach would have been entirely different, so there was a mortal whose services he wished to obtain.

Cassius laughed. “You mean you wish to have one of them served to you.” He couldn’t resist making a pun. He knew William was one of many who did not keep human servants for longer than a year or two. He lacked the patience and self-control.

William narrowed his eyes slightly. Cassius had something he wanted, so he had to accept some poor decorum. But William’s manners were beyond reproach. He grabbed a rose from the table, and expertly pulled out its petals, one at a time, deciding to be direct. «It is your hotel. Is the American one of yours?» He arranged the petals on the table into a kolam of sorts.

“Do you not think I can control myself, that you refuse to speak to me, your majesty?”

“I think you are being rude. I am asking a simple question, your majesty.”

“I know about whom you speak. I found him interesting, too. That’s why he works at my hotel.”

“He is one of yours?”

“I considered it. But I have too many. Do you want him?”

“Yes.”

Cassius laughed. “It’s a pity. You’ll ruin him when you get hungry or bored.”

William frowned, and picked up the rose petals. «I won’t ruin him. I can control myself.»

He laughed again, and retrieved the towel. «I don’t believe you. You are aware of your reputation.» The way he picked it up spelled out the retort. Left hand, picked up from the centre. He elaborated with some careful folds.

“I will have him, with your blessing, your majesty.”

Cassius grinned. “Now who is being rude, your majesty?” But William knew that meant the American was his.

“Will you tell me where he came from?”

“I expect this favour to be repaid.”

“Naturally, your majesty.”