Amora flinched when her clothes were shoved into her arms. It may have been smarter to wait until Tehvar gave her the order, but she pulled her dress over her head anyways, leaving her undergarments to be put on later. Nevermind the lengthy process of fully clothing herself; she just wanted to get away from prying eyes.<br/><br/>Eskhara spoke to a few of her servants, ordering them to clean up after her guests as she sipped on a glass of red wine. Her attention continued to wander to her son and his little slave. How he acted before and during the discussion infuriated her. There were a few straddlers in the main hall when Eskhara approached the two. She spoke low, eyes sharp. "Must I teach you everything? You have no more power over other demons than they have over you. In fact, they SHOULD be able to push you about for how you acted. You are an embarrassment, and I refuse to contend with this each time you are here."<br/><br/>Amora couldn't help but wince at her harsh words, but the demoness saw that. Her eyes narrowed, and the grip on her wine glass loosened. Crimson alcohol dribbled onto the floor like a tiny waterfall, splattering near Amora's bare feet. Her eyes widened slightly, questioning the woman's intent, until she spoke firmly, "Slave, lick it up."<br/><br/>The few people there watched as the human's face turned as red as the liquid on the floor in front of her. Eskhara didn't seem to notice as she folded her arms impatiently. "I said, Lick. It. Up." Amora could almost feel the venom of her words pierce into her. Not wishing to anger her master's mother any more, she got down on her hands and knees, skin cold against the marble floor, and she ducked her head with her tongue extended, ready to follow the ridiculous order she had been given.<br/><br/>Eskhara watched through emotionless eyes as the slave silently lapped some of the wine up. It was cold, and bitter.<span style="font-style: italic">Almost like her heart</span>Amora quipped, bobbing her head down again when she felt something press hard between her shoulder bones. The breath was knocked nearly out of her as Eskhara put her weight on her foot upon the slave. Some of her own servants winced; they had seen this before. No one should ever give notice to a conversation of Eskhara's unless directly speaking to her. There were always consequences.<br/><br/>Amora felt her head being dragged across the floor, over the wine as it was soaked up by her blonde hair. Eskhara was using her like a rag. She almost wanted to cry; she was this worthless, to be used to clean up spills. The ends of her hair were dyed red once the demoness released the slave. She merely breathed, her cheek resting against the floor as Eskhara spoke, not to her, but to Tehvar "Never train a slave to eavesdrop, dear. Things might get messy."