“I Hate All This Subterfuge!”

Inara sat straight but as gracefully as a willow limb in the elegant chair. Mr. Okeida sat across from her mixing sugar in the tea he’d offered. Paintings filled the walls of the oak room adding to the smell of leathers and wood that already permeated the chamber. Inara smiled faintly, just enough to let a man like Okeida know she was trained in certain political arts and not some overzealous girl trying to use her body for gain.

“I am pleased to receive your company Ms. Sara,” Okeida handed her the fine China cup and saucer. “Your reputation with the Guild is impeccable. I still find it somewhat surprising that you travel with such a, shall we say, uncultivated group.”

Inara took a small sip from the excellent tea, never taking her eyes off the man in front of her before she replied. It was a small gesture to the casual observer, but it said volumes. In that one moment she communicated to Okeida that she was calm, unafraid of her current situation and in control of the conversation. She knew it. He knew it.

“Many people find surprises refreshing,” Inara answered, slowing her normal speech down, “And I find freedom refreshing. Thus, I work within the Guild guidelines but outside their normal structure.”

Okeida put his cup back on it’s saucer, “Still, the kind of places a man like Malcolm Reynolds takes you are less than culturally legitimate. Does that not limit your profits to a degree?”

Inara took another sip, letting him wait, then smiled brightly, “Certainly it does limit my profitability. But we must all pay for our freedoms.”

“Indeed,” Okeida smiled like a snake and leaned his elbows on the oak desk, “Is that what you are here to do Ms. Sara? To buy your freedoms with your companion training?”

Okeida expected indignation or some sign of mild disclosure in the young woman’s face that he knew she was plotting. He searched her hands for movement of the veins there, and her face for any flushing of anger. What he got was calmness and the pleasure of watching Inara