Neat & Tidy

I was made aware of his return, two days before the arrival of the slave called Six arrived at my bakery.
Upon the smooth stone surrounding the public fountain, I was beckoned, the exchange of pleasantries made me realize that I missed his company.
He seemed refreshed by his trip, tone of his voice used to describe Venna fond.
His presence stimulates my mind, I find him to be as powerful as he is intelligent.
He is one of those rare type of men that has the ability of effortlessly commanding those around while at the same time never altering the pitch of his voice or mannerisms. I believe him to sharper that even I have originally anticipated. In this he continues to keep me sharp and centered a fact that shall naturally keep to myself, refusing to feed his already healthy ego, no doubt grueling exhausting task better suited to be carried out by his extensive chain.
His return brought with it olives, some of the finest I have ever tasted. I always been fond of the salty contrast in conjunction with the tart rendering them to be very delicious. The process use to achieve such, is harder than one might imagine, something I have only witnessed yet not personally attempted. I believe they will prove to be a good source of profit for us both once I include them on my menu. I have already set about introducing that small sample he provided to some of my more discriminative clients, the reaction as I anticipated was favorable.
I had the feeling when I arrived that he did not send for me to simply regal me with news of his recent trip, my thoughts were confirmed as we conversed, despite the swell of people enjoying the 'Love Feast' his attention remained focused intently upon me, it would however be for all the wrong reasons. I have learned in the course of our relationship that he seldom does anything without a reason, a trait I normally admire.
The topic of the conversation took a different unexpected turn. It revolved around the coin still owed based on the concession sales during the production of 'The Good Citizen'. I knew that I had been remiss about paying him the owed percentages made possible during the production. A convenient oversight, muddied and soiled by the fabricated lie, that I had attempted to seek him out to clear my outstanding debt. The explanation not without some merit for I did plan to pay him, that part was fact, minus that parts about seeking him out, yet with the passage of time I assumed that perhaps for no other reason that abit of wishful thinking that he had carelessly forgotten. Instead of owning the truth, I opted for the lame lie, dishing it up as to not insult both of our intelligence. A lie often time much easier to swallow than that truth. At least that is what I tell myself. Although he made no show of it, his actions attested to the fact that saw thru the transparent excuse, opting instead for as he puts it a neat and tidy alternative, gallantly presented as a choice instead of a demand.

The food prepared, simple cuisines. Selection of candied dates, figs, olives and breads, arranged along the long table, pentane paid for sins committed. The Insula of Achiates served as the exchange point. The price for my casual greed fittingly paid with gluttony. He claimed it was a show of good will towards the City, celebrating the festival. I believe that claim, yet I think he also orchestrated such a public payment as a way to humble me, confident the act would remain burned into my memory. I could have easily sent forth several of the Poets slaves to work the event, my stubborn pride however prevented such from being made possible instead I used the opportunity to make certain that I was publicly recognized for the delicious deeds. The crowd was worked, ensuring the amounts were evenly portioned out while at the same time attempting to not dwell upon the freeloaders that pushed thru, seeking out seconds. It never ceases to amaze me that way people always take advantage of something free, attach a price tag and immediately the balk and barter. I could easily fried up a batch of diseased urt sprinkled it with sugar and passed it off to those with less than discriminative palates and they still would have pushed and shoved their way to the front of the line. If it was not for my name and reputation I may very well put the theory to test in the future.
It was only after the last morsel was swiftly devoured by ravenously greedy mouths did the Poet offer to walk me back home. His mood pleased by the outcome, the evening deemed a success, naturally I agreed.

A subject that he had touched upon earlier in the night made a return visit as he escorted me home. His desire for crumb. I couldn't help but question his reasoning's behind such a request, he set about explaining it in relatable terms, he even went so far as to suggest a trade, his slave six for crumb. It took everything I had not to openly laugh in his face, the humor lays solely in my imagination, picturing the six's face when the instructions would be given a voice. I am not oblivious to the fact that a pleasure slave such as herself would justifiably consider it a cruel form of punishment to be owned by a woman. I am tempted to take him up on his offer not only to test her limitations, but more importantly due her training. I am however unwilling at the moment to agree to such a trade, it has taken me a long while to properly train my handmaiden, ensuring and anticipating my needs and mine alone without the distractions of seeking out a masters commanding touch. I seriously doubt the same could be said for a slave that has always been in service to a master and honestly I don't know if I wish to put forth the energy and considerable effort it would take to retrain her, if that is even possible. On the plus side I am not blind to the fact that by offering crumb to him, without any strings attached, that he may be incline to feel a sense of obligation to me. It isn't like I couldn't find another to replace the comely slave. She is after all only a slave.
This does bear ample consideration, for now I shall simply let him wait, allowing his desire to build, while I expertly use her as pretty pawn, sitting up on the shelf ready to be used to my advantage.