Calliope glanced down at her own clothes. Today she wore a fine, heavy linen dress, with long, open sleeves under a tunic of soft lambs wool dyed a deep blue and embroidered with silver. The only piece of jewelry she wore was the plain silver pin holding her tunic and dress in place. It was a very nice dress, something even her incredibly particular mother would have had to be pleased with, but it was once again completely out of place. Kara was right, she didn't look like any of the slaves, of any variety.

Absently she reached for the wine she'd left on the table and took a sip,...