“My office. Now.” He ended the connection before I could respond.
“Shut up.” I changed into clean clothes and headed for the villa’s main wing.
Tarsus stood near the window, holding something draped over his arm. Silver fabric that caught the light. He turned when I entered.
“Curator.” He gestured to a chair. “Sit.”
I sat. Waited. Let him control the opening.
“Tonight’s gala is important,” he said. “I’m showcasing several new acquisitions. Mr. Korven will be attending as my personal guest. Senator Valerius will also be present, along with forty-three other influential buyers and collectors.”
“I understand, sir.”
“I need you to make an impression.” He moved closer, holding up the silver fabric. A dress. Backless. Low-cut neckline. The kind of garment designed to display rather than cover. “You’ll wear this tonight.”
I looked at the dress without touching it. Expensive material. Custom tailoring. And completely inappropriate for my position as staff curator.
“Sir, I usually wear professional attire to these events.”
“Usually, yes.” His expression didn’t change. “Tonight is different. Tonight, you’re not just my curator. You’re part of my collection.”
The words landed exactly as he intended. Ownership. Display. A reminder that my contract gave him control over more than just my professional services.
“I see,” I said carefully.
“Do you?” He laid the dress across the desk between us. “Senator Valerius has been questioning the value of human acquisitions. He believes your species is overvalued in the current market. I intend to prove him wrong.”
“By having me wear this dress.”
“By having you demonstrate your expertise while looking like the valuable asset you are.” His tone stayed level. “It’s important to show off my collection in all the best lights.”
I tensed. I kept my expression neutral. “And the collar?”
“Will be visible, of course.” He smiled. “The dress is designed to frame it. A beautiful combination of aesthetics and function.”
The collar at my throat felt heavier.
“When should I arrive?” I asked.
“Early evening. I want you in position before the main guests arrive.” He tapped the data slate on his desk, his attention already elsewhere. “You’ll circulate during the first hour. Answer questions about the new acquisitions. Be charming, knowledgeable, and available. Make them understand why having a human expert adds value to my collection.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He dismissed me without looking up. “Take the dress. Don’t damage it. It cost more than your quarterly meal allowance.”
I collected the dress and left.
The fabric felt wrong in my hands. Too smooth. Too expensive. Too explicitly designed to put me on display like one of Tarsus’s artifacts.
Flinx sent as we walked back to my quarters.
“Get in line.”
“We’re leaving tonight.” I sealed my door and hung the dress where I wouldn’t have to look at it. “Assuming everything goes according to plan.”
