Lys: Salvation?

The words were music to her ears. And to the ears of her owner, apparently, for his eyes lit up for a split-second. Then his shrewdness returned.
She chanced a look at her prospective buyer. He was a big man, intimidating. Not Roman, she thought. In fact, she could not place his origin, nor his rank, nor what he might want her for. She may be going out of the cauldron and into the flame, for all she knew. But choosing between the painful known to the perhaps of the unknown seemed easy.

Not that she had the choice.

*****

The slaver sized him up. Superior slave, perhaps- meaning that the owner would be even richer. But the chance to be rid of Domitia could not pass by on greed. It would be a difficult dance, getting a fair price without driving the man away.

He quoted only slightly above a fair price. Truth be told, he was desperate to be rid of her, for almost any price.