"As you will," Sindra replied, "I shall be a scribe." Signori li Saverio spoke of arrangements, a bed, but not his. It was not something Sindra was unaccustomed to, most of her masters were more interested in her words and her abilities than the fleeting pleasures of the bed. And all of them had far more lovely and honey-tongued slaves than Sindra.
She was certainly not kept for her ability to flatter.
Sindra knew it would be over-reaching herself to ask about the meaning of the Serpent's words. If the ambassador wished to give her his interpretation, he would. The shadows whispered their own in Sindra's ear, but they could be lies.
"From Signori? Just sleep, basic needs," Sindra paused. "Signori has the rights of salvage, anything more is his pleasure to grant."