Mrs. Cole did not like the new girl. Her name was Allison, and she was a liar.

Allison did what was asked of her, and worked just as hard and willingly as any of the other indentured servants (Mrs. Cole could not bring herself to consider her charges slaves, though for all practical purposes, that’s what they were), and she never straight-out lied about anything in the duke’s household.

But her story about being orphaned gentry? Who worked in service since she was nine? Mrs. Cole didn’t believe a word of it.

The girl’s hands and skin were too smooth to have grown up as a servant — either here or on Earth. And the tight, round muscles in her arms and legs suggested someone who had never gone hungry, yet lived not a life of idle ease. But it was her eyes that truly gave evidence to her lies. Though she might do the work demanded of her, and answer only “yes, ma’am” or “no ma’am,” Allison could not hide the arrogant contempt in her eyes.

She was no servant. And she was no lady, pretending at servitude for some strange entertainment. No, her manner said she was above all such things. She was an American — Mrs. Cole was sure of it.

***

Duke Horatio Pembrook could not get enough of the new girl, Allison.

He’d first laid sight of her while visiting Lord Nordham’s summer home in New Kansas. He and Nordham were up at dawn each day to hunt bloodtigers and grass-ox on the savanna, then relaxed with a fine dinner and a hand of cards before bed. The Duke found his time there both agreeable and invigorating, and declared that he may need to build his own hunting lodge on the prairie for next season’s hunt.

Allison was one of Nordham’s serving girls. Pembrook caught her looking at him several times during his visit — and why not? Even at forty-and-six, he cut a dashing figure in his uniform, and still had most of his hair. She was a lovely thing herself, and he determined then to acquire her for his harem.

The night before he was to return home, the duke suggested to Nordham that they increase the stakes of their nightly card game. He wagered the use of his villa on the Blackstone Sea for a season and — at his suggestion — Nordham wagered the contract for Allison.

It took over a dozen hands, and the duke lost more than just his villa for a season, but when he and his servants set out for Castle Pembrook the next morning, Allison was among their number.

Duke Pembrook gave Allison three weeks to adjust to life in the castle. From his experiences with the previous girls, he knew it took about that long to overcome the altitude, any residual homesickness, and the idea that they were now essentially his personal property. Most of the girls he recruited to his harem had only the slightest qualms at the last part; they were descendants of Teru’s first explorers and settlers, and were little better than the native Trogs, suitable only for work as servants and laborers. For many, a position in the duke’s harem was an improvement in their station.

The castle took a little more getting used to. Its towers were not tall, but it sprawled across the cold, high peaks of the Coldridge mountains for almost a quarter mile, and was filled with the duke’s favorite amusements. He loved the castle’s design and location — and with good reason, as he had chosen both himself. It was a lonely place, and that was the way he liked it. Aside from the savage mountain tribes (who he kept in line through liberal use of bribery), there was no one for miles to judge him, question him, or hold him accountable. He was quite literally the lord of all he surveyed.

“Is Allison ready, Mrs. Cole?”

The older woman looked up from the dinner dishes she was clearing from the long wooden table. Though the duke rarely had visitors, he insisted that every meal be taken in the formal dining room.

“She has settled into her duties here very well, sir.”

“That’s not what I asked, Mrs. Cole.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Then nodded.

“I have explained her additional duties, m’lord, and she seems willing enough to perform them whenever you are ready.”

“Then why the hesitation, Mrs. Cole? Do you suspect she is…?”

“No, m’lord. She seems healthy enough. It’s just that… she’s a proud one. A bit too proud, if you ask me.”

The duke laughed. “Proud, you say. Then I look forward to teaching her some humility. Send her to my chambers tonight.”

“As you wish, m’lord.”

***

Allison smiled when Mrs. Cole handed her a thin, hooded gown and told her that the time had come. At Mrs. Cole’s instruction, she powdered her face just so and pulled the hood up over her hair. She feared the old woman would make her remove her ring — a lone keepsake from a previous life — but apparently Pembrook had no stipulations regarding jewelry.

Pembrook opened his chamber door at Allison’s knock. His smile was like a young boy about to stuff his face with toffee.

“Come inside,” he said. “Let me look at you.”

Allison closed the door behind her and turned the lock.

“Yes. Yes…” Pembrook spoke to himself as he circled around his new acquisition, admiring her from every angle.

“Would you care for a drink?” he asked.

“Yes, m’lord.” She didn’t bother trying to sound nervous.

Pembrook turn from Allison towards the wine bottle Mrs. Cole had left on the side table —

— And Allison was on him in a moment. She was the tip of a cracking whip, lashing out, stinging him, then snapping back to where she started.

Pembrook looked up from where he’d landed on the floor. His hand went to where her ring had stabbed him him in the neck, leaving a trickle of blood. His eyes were wide as he looked up at Allison, her fists balled as she stood in her fighting stance above him.

“Who…?” he began, then slumped to the floor.

Allison gave him a minute — then gave him a kick — to ensure he had truly succumbed to the narcotic’s effects. His eyes rolled, and he gave a grunt of pain, but all his major muscles were paralyzed. It was time to get to work.

“Your wife sent me,” Allison said as she started emptying an ornate storage trunk in the corner

“You may remember her: Small woman, about your age, living on the charity of relatives back on Earth. Only, she’s no duchess. Which means you’re no duke.”

She found the hidden switch, and the front of the trunk swung open, revealing a large steel safe with a combination dial on the front.

“They say that on Teru, a man can live like royalty on a thousand pounds a year. I see you’ve proven them right, thought at the cost of every shred of honor your might have had.”

Allison held a mocking finger to her lips, shushing the mute but watchful Pembrook as she carefully turned the dial on the safe, hitting every number his wife had given her. Tumblers clicked, and she pulled the door open.

“It is a shameful thing to abandon one’s wife, Mister Pembrook. It is beyond shameful to leave her with nothing but your gambling debts, while you flee to Teru to pursue your… deplorable lifestyle.”

There wasn’t as much cash in the safe as she — and Mrs. Pembrook — had hoped. There was a small bag of Teruvian diamonds, and the true object of her mission: a sheaf of papers bound in oilskin. She examined paper to confirm her suspicions.

“This is why I’m here, Mr. Pembrook,” Allison said as she waved the papers at her paralyzed prisoner. “With these deeds in hand, your wife will once again be able to collect the rents due her, and begin to re-establish her place in society.

“And yes, I intend to take anything else of value I can find on my way out. Your wife was primarily interested in the deeds, and allowed that the rest could go to filling my own coffers — though to be honest, I’m still considering doing this job for free.”

***

Allison was in the garage, starting up a floater (its back seat full of the valuables she couldn’t secure on her person), when Mrs. Cole emerged from the castle, her face full of panic and questions.

“Pembrook’s in his room,” said Allison, before the woman could speak. “He’s alive, but paralyzed for the next day or so. Completely conscious, but can’t move of speak. He’s also completely broke.”

“But… but… what shall I do?”

Allison shrugged. “That’s up to you. But if it were me, I’d round up the girls, grab a floater, and make your way towards the valley. Once the mountain tribes learn Pembrook’s got nothing left to bribe them with, this castle won’t be here much longer.”

“But how will they know?”

“I’m going to tell them on my way out of here.”

Allison fired up the floater, gave Mrs. Cole a wave and smile, and headed for the valley road.