(That's totally fine. The term "daddy" just made me think of a young child for some reason. I understand though. Hopefully I'm not cutting anyone short responding to both posts in one. It just seems to flow better.)<br/><br/>“Solistrae....” Catherine repeats, seeming to taste the name. “A bit exotic, I'll admit. Where are you from?<span style="font-style: italic">Who</span>are you?” Catherine had to admit, she enjoyed sentient prey because they offered much in the way of recipes. As long as they didn't know your plans, they could provide you with a wealth of information that would allow you to find the best seasonings and cooking methods without even having to open a cookbook. For now, she was enjoying watching the young Ambrosine wash her down. “Don't worry about the men here. Think of them as if they weren't here. No one will know you've been seen, dear. I'll only ask that you make sure you get everything clean. Head to toe, anus, vagina. Everything. Solistrae can help you as best she can, I'm sure.” she said, adding as she gestured to some servants bringing tables into the room, motioning for them to space them out more.  Without even turning to look at the two women, she added “And I can't remove the chains. Not until I know I can trust you.”<br/><br/>Being skilled in the art of diplomacy, meant she was quite adept at the art of deception as well. Solistrae was a bit of a wildcard, but all she knew was that she was now Catherine's property. As she wasn't from the city, the purpose of her parties wouldn't be known, at least not with any certainty. Ambrosine was so enamored with the prospect of serving Catherine, that she could be easily led on.<br/><br/>“Handmaiden? Oh, I suppose that would be a way to put it. Just trust that it's a very<span style="font-style: italic">special</span>place I have for you this night.” she added, looking over her new prizes. “You both are quite beautiful, if I dare say so...” she said, looking them both up and down. The drow's face<span style="font-style: italic">was</span>beautiful, surprisingly unmarred for a warrior's face. “I think our guests are going to enjoy both of your company quite well.”<br/><br/>“Hurry up and finish your washing, now. When you're done, go stand over by those tables there. Grab a few towels and dry yourselves. Ambrosine, you help Solistrae over there.”<br/><br/>Giving Ambrosine the power over Solistrae would keep her ruse under wraps longer. Hopefully, her kindness in providing towels and a cleaning (despite the cleaning being for the benefit of meat quality and not morale) would keep Solistrae from acting out, though, even if she did, Martiel was more than equipped to handle her nude form. The several outer guards, though less experienced, could lend assistance if needed too.<br/><br/>Behind her, a slave dropped  her prized silver platter made by the finest silversmith in the Halls of Juniper, a settlement bordering on the drow territories. She sighed, turning on the young woman with a look that could melt steel to slag. “What have you to say for yourself?” she growled, her fangs bared.<br/>The woman pleaded, holding her hands up in submission. “I'm sorry! It was wet and slipped from my hands.” Catherine raised the bullwhip to the skies, ready to rain it on the woman. The woman burst to tears, gibbering like a babe torn from a teat. “Do<span style="font-weight: bold">not</span>let it happen again.” she said, lowering the whip.<br/><br/>She turned back around to her new arrivals and awaited there reactions. 'Sometimes, image was everything.' she thought with a slight, cocky smile.