Ea would have smiled, should her profession allow such liberties of expression. Instead she schooled her features to a mild servility she would normally disdain.

"The lady of the house, sir, she's... well, her health, many worry that it's failing." Ea twisted her iron ring nervously, a manuever that never failed to convice patricians. With each gesture, she reminded them of her status. They had no idea *they* were being wrapped around her finger, lulled into security that they regretted only much later.

"And you are... Glaucus, am I right? I've heard your wife is ill, if I may be so bold. Does she require treatment?"