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Vivian

“Thou mayest make good on the wager.”

“That’s wrong. That can’t be right! Who decided that order?”

“As a duchess to a baroness, so a flush to a straight. The former outranks the latter by tradition and convention–if not, in this case, God’s will.”

“Screw tradition and convention!”

“It is also recorded on yon parchment: the rules to which we agreed. A merest glance would confirm it.”

“It doesn’t make sense. If I’d known, I would have–”

“I will wait as patiently as is necessary. Make good, milady.”

Sighing, but secretly smiling, Vivian reaches up to undo her bra.

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