Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Princes of Mannsborough, Part 7 of approximately 23 (last chapter is 22.)
by Vulgar Argot (caution.  Additional tags at bottom to avoid spoilerage.)

   <authors-note> Obviously, major changes have been made to this section.
I'm still not 100% happy with it.  The Paul(Adam) storyline didn't work in
the second draft.  I may, ultimately, drop it all together.  But, it was
too integrated into 6a, so I left it in this time around. </authors-note>

   Marigold woke when she felt Thule's weight settle at her feet on the
couch.  She rolled over onto her back and pulled the blanket down from her
face.  Thule was dressed in his suit and tie again, ready for another day
of meetings.  He smiled at her uncertainly, "Morning."

   Marigold stretched as best she could without exposing herself with Thule
sitting on the end of her blanket.

   "I want to get a look at you," he said.  When Marigold hesitated, he
added, "to make sure there's no lasting damage from last night.  I don't
think there is, but it would make me feel better to know for sure."

   Marigold nodded and released her grip on the edge of the blanket.  Thule
pulled it back to her waist, "Anything hurt?"

   Marigold considered the question, "I've got a lot of muscle aches in my
back, arms, legs, and, for some reason, my feet."

   Thule nodded, "Do you have something in that first aid kit you packed
for minor burns?"

   Marigold sat up a little, examining herself.  From the front, she saw
only a small reddish spot just below above her collarbone where Maya had
initially splashed her with the first candle.  She touched it
experimentally and found it only mildly sensitive.

   "There's a tube labeled 'burn cream' in there," she said.  "But, this is
pretty minor."

   "Still," said Thule.  "I would like to treat it.  Plus..." he held up
his hand, the back of which had an angry red splotch on it.

   "How did that happen?" asked Marigold.

   "The second candle," said Thule.  "When I grabbed it, wax spilled."

   Marigold remembered the moment.  Thule must have been in remarkable
pain, but he'd just stood firm, not pulling away, not letting Maya dump
another full candle on her.  Marigold felt it was very import to say
something at that moment, but she didn't know what.  Fortunately, Thule was
out of the room at that moment, retrieving the first aid kit.

   He came back with the kit a moment later, opened it, found the cream,
and dabbed a little on Marigold's hand.  Then, he tried awkwardly to spread
more on the back of his own hand while holding the tube.

   "Here," said Marigold, taking the tube, "let me." She smeared the cream
on evenly.

   Thule drew the blanket the rest of the way off of her, leaving Marigold
naked on the couch.  With one hand, he gently spread her legs, looking
closely at her inner thighs.  His touch was completely clinical, as if he
were a doctor.

   "Roll over, please," he said.  When Marigold had complied, he went on,
"It looks like the cane broke the skin on your shoulderblade a little bit.
There's also a small bit of bruising.  Nothing looks major, though.  How's
your knee where she hit you?"

   "Stiff," admitted Marigold.  As Thule applied another cream to her
shoulderblade, she was left to wonder if he could possibly be the same man
who's hands had trembled with barely-contained passion to touch her over
the last two days?  His hands now were completely impersonal.

   "We need to talk," said Thule.  "But, right now, I need breakfast and to
get to my meetings.  The hotel has a masseur on staff.  I can arrange for
you to see him when we check out if you like."

   Marigold nodded, "All right."

   Thule gave her another uncertain smile, "Why don't you go ahead and get
in the shower?  I'm going to head downstairs shortly.  You can meet me in
the restaurant."

   Marigold frowned, "I already got a shower earlier this morning." She
wanted to add, "while you were fucking Maya," but held her tongue.

   "Okay," said Thule.  "Go and get dressed.  We can go down to breakfast
together."

   Marigold didn't move, "Thule?"

   Thule looked down at her, "Yes?"

   "What's next for us?"

   The question hung in the air for a few seconds before Thule said, "You'd
better get dressed while I start to answer that question.  That's not going
to be a short conversation."

   Marigold still didn't move.  She just lay there and watched Thule.

   "Marigold," he said.  "Go get dressed."

   "Is that an order?"

   Thule paused before answering the question.  Marigold held her breath.
Finally, he said, "Yes, Little Flower.  It is."

   Marigold rose from the couch and went into the bedroom without another
word.

   "Feeling contrite?" Thule asked as he came into the room behind her.

   Marigold shook her head, "Not particularly.  I just wanted to see if you
intended to continue ordering me around."

   "At least until I get you home tonight," Thule said.  "I'm done
punishing you, if that's what you mean."

   "Oh," said Marigold, feeling her stomach sink.  "I thought you were
going to keep punishing me until I went away to Harvard."

   Thule shrugged, "I thought I would need to.  I was...a lot angrier at
you when this started.  You're a very different person than you were when
this started, Marigold." He took a deep breath, "I don't expect you to
thank me for it, but..."

   Marigold, who had gotten into her bra and panties, stopped dressing,
"Thule, I told you last night how I feel about you.  I thought you felt the
same.  Now, I don't know.  Do you...feel the same?"

   Thule smiled sadly, "I haven't really let myself think about it,
Marigold.  There are a lot of things I need to do before the end of
summer--things I can't tell you about.  This would be a very bad time for
me to fall in love."

   Marigold lowered her head, ordering herself not to cry, "Oh."
Mechanically, she went about the business of getting dressed.

   "What about the prom?" she asked quietly.

   Thule turned around, taking her hands in his, "Marigold, I would love to
take you to the prom.  Will you go with me?"

   Marigold raised her eyebrow at him, "Are you asking me or ordering me?"

   "I'm asking," said Thule.

   "Order me," said Marigold.  There was a note of pleading in her voice.

   Thule shook his head in the negative, "No."

   Marigold drew her hands away from him.  She wanted so much to say "yes,"
but the image of him making love to Maya still burned across her corneas.
He had betrayed her.  After all of his protests of not wanting Maya while
Marigold was in earshot, he had taken the first opportunity to betray her,
not even waiting until she was out of the suite.

   If only he would order her to go, none of it would matter.  She could go
to the prom with him, continue to sleep with him, do exactly what she
wanted.  But, he wouldn't give her that.  He'd had what he wanted.  Now, he
was casting her aside.

   "I'll have to see what other offers I have first," said Marigold coldly.
She saw an initial spasm of anger cross Thule's face when she said it and,
for a moment, she felt a glimmer of hope that he would reverse his decision
and start ordering her around again.

   Instead, he turned his back on her and said quietly, "Why don't you head
down to the restaurant and get us a table?  I have a couple of phone calls
to make."

   "Fine," said Marigold, fleeing the room with as much dignity as she
could manage

   She was still fuming down in the restaurant when Adam approached her
table.

   "Dining alone?" he asked.

   "Yes," hissed Marigold.  "I mean...no.  That is..."

   Adam smiled, "Perhaps a better question would be, 'Can I join you?'"

   Marigold smiled.  The idea of a conversational buffer between herself
and Thule this morning struck her as a good idea, "Sure.  Have a seat."

   Adam's grin got wider, "Great.  I was afraid I was going to have to eat
alone.  Now, I've got a lovely young woman to keep me company."

   Behind him, Thule said, "She is lovely, isn't she?"

   Adam tensed as if expecting a confrontation.  Thule just walked past him
and took the other chair.

   "Ah," Adam said, trying to find his smile again.  "You must be
Marigold's husband."

   Marigold's heart sank.  How could she have forgotten all of the lies
she'd told Adam yesterday?  She saw Thule open his mouth to speak and
jumped in, "Yes.  Adam, this is my husband, Thule.  Thule, this is Adam."

   Thule turned his back to Adam so that he could give Marigold a quizzical
look.  Marigold kept her face carefully blank.  She said evenly, "Adam is
from Australia."

   Thule turned back to Adam, "Nice to meet you, Adam from Australia.  How
do you know my wife?"

   "I met her while swimming yesterday.  She was nice enough to answer some
of my questions."

   "Really?" said Thule.  "What about?"

   Adam seemed surprised by the question, "New York?"

   "Ah..." said Thule.

   "Adam sells surveillance equipment," interjected Marigold.

   Thule paused for a moment, then asked, "Really?  Who for?"

   "Atech-Terra," said Adam.

   Thule raised an eyebrow, "They make some pretty high-end stuff.  You
selling to the NYPD?"

   "I, uh..." said Adam, leaning in.  "I can't really talk about who my
clients are."

   Thule tapped his forehead, "Of course.  Of course.  Didn't mean to pry."

   "You have an interest in surveillance?" Adam asked.

   Thule nodded, "I'm sure my wife must have talked about my interest in
optics."

   "Err," said Adam.  "She said you were studying electrical engineering at
Harvard."

   "MIT," offered Marigold.

   Thule nodded, "That's where the money is.  But, I'm focusing on
surveillance-based electronics, which means a lot of cross-disciplinary
study in optics and acoustics."

   At that point, Marigold lost the thread of the conversation.  All she
got out of it was that Thule was a much more facile liar than she was.  Of
course, she'd already come to suspect that.

   After breakfast, Thule said, "Adam, I hope you don't mind if I borrow my
wife for a while.  We need to check out."

   "Of course," said Adam.  "It was nice meeting you."

   In the elevator, on the way up to their room, Thule asked casually, "So.
What the fuck are you up to?"

   He hadn't bothered to turn and face Marigold when he said it.  Marigold
was forced to twist instead.  When she did, she realized that Thule had
positioned himself in such a way that she had to step back or crane her
neck to talk to him.

   "What do you care?" she asked.  "I think you made it pretty clear that
you're done with me.  Maybe I'm just evaluating my other options."

   "You met him yesterday," said Thule.

   It took Marigold a moment to understand what he was getting at.  By the
time she had, the elevator door had opened and Thule was walking away,
forcing Marigold to follow, taking two steps to each of his long strides.
Halfway down the hall, he grabbed a luggage cart, trailing it behind him,
blocking Marigold from getting close enough to speak.  As a result, she
wasn't able to speak to him until he was back at the room.  When she did,
the best she could come up with was, "You never forbade me from talking to
other men."

   Thule stopped fumbling with his key card, "No.  I didn't.  I didn't
forbid you from fucking other men either, did I?"

   Again, Marigold was stunned.  And, again Thule took the opportunity to
walk away from her, unlocking the door and striding into the suite.  She
caught up with him in the bedroom.

   "I didn't fuck him," said Marigold.  "I didn't even kiss him.  We just
had a drink."

   Thule started piling their luggage onto the cart, "How virtuous of you."

   "Dammit, Thule," exclaimed Marigold.  "Don't be like that.  I didn't.  I
could have.  He wanted me.  And, you didn't say I couldn't."

   Thule didn't answer.  He finished piling up their luggage and started
pushing the cart, "Get a good look around to make sure you didn't leave
anything behind.  We're not coming back."

   "Dammit, Thule," said Marigold.  "Don't shut me out like this.  I didn't
do anything wrong."

   Thule gave her such a glare that Marigold actually took a step
backwards. With a violent jerk, he got the cart moving, then he was out the
door again.

   Marigold stood in the middle of the room, stunned.  She wanted to chase
after Thule, but whether she would fall to her knees and beg for
forgiveness or try to claw his eyes out, she didn't know.  Before she could
decide, she spotted her physics textbook on the kitchen counter.  A moment
of panic hit her.  If she'd left that here, she would have had to explain
it to her parents, who would have told her to call her aunt to get it back.
She gave the rooms a thorough search.

   Looking under the bed, she came out with a little, black box with wires
running off of it.  She recognized it from her work at the hospital as a
TENS unit--a device used to administer electrical shocks to patients who
had heart arrhythmias.

   For a moment, she puzzled over where it could have come from.  Then, she
realized it must have fallen out of Maya's duffel bag during the night.

   She shuddered.  Electrical shock was high on her list of irrational
fears.  She'd always treated anything that administered a shock with great
respect.

   As she tucked it into her pocket, Marigold wondered what else Thule had
protected her from last night.  In spite of herself, she felt a momentary
rush of gratitude, which she clamped down on quickly.

   She caught up with Thule at the front desk, but he was checking out.  It
wasn't until they were down in the parking garage that they were able to
speak.

   "Your massage is in twenty minutes," said Thule, handing her a receipt.
"I'll be back at 2:30.  If you're still here, I can give you a ride back to
Mannsborough."

   "If I'm still here?"

   Thule looked at her over the car, "You're obviously mad at me for
something.  If you're so mad that you'd rather take a bus back to
Mannsborough than ride back with me, I'll understand."

   "Something?" Marigold asked.  "Something?  Thule, you fucked Maya last
night.  I saw you." Her words echoed across the parking garage, but she was
too angry to care.  "I saw you.  After you swore up and down that you
didn't want her, that she was 'nothing to you,' you fucked her."

   Thule laughed.  Marigold was so angry that her face drained of all
blood. How dare he laugh at her for caring who he fucked?  He opened the
car door, "That's what you're mad about?  Marigold, I'm already late for my
meeting.  I don't have time for this, but I assure you that everything I
said last night was true.  I'm done with Maya.  She is..." He took a deep
breath.  "I can't talk about this now.  I have to get going.  We'll talk
when I get back." Then, he stepped into the car.

   Marigold crouched down so she could talk to him through the window, "Are
you so sure I'm going to be here when you get back?"

   Thule glared at her, starting the car, "If you want to talk, you'll be
here."

   Marigold decided to take one more stab at establishing their
relationship on terms she could live with.

   "You still haven't told me I can't fuck other guys," she pointed at.

   Thule put the car into reverse, "You're a big girl, Marigold.  Do
whatever the hell you want."



   -=-

   Marigold stalked back up to the lobby in a cold rage.  All the fury she
thought she should have felt over her treatment at Thule's hand welled up
in her until she found herself leaning against the wall, shaking with
barely-contained rage.

   Seeing Adam step out of the elevator, she fled into the ladies' room. 
Fortunately, it seemed to be unoccupied.  Leaning against the counter with
her hands pressed on the edge, she felt the crumpling of paper.

   She looked down.  Crumpled between her fingers was a yellow slip of
paper.  She unfolded it.

   It read, "Massage, 11:30.  $195.00."

   Still in a fury, she crumpled it again and threw it towards the trash.
It would have gone in, but she felt a sudden pain in her shoulder as she
tried to throw.  Instead, it bounced off the wall.

   "Shit," she muttered, going down on her knees.  She retrieved the
receipt and uncrumpled it again.  Obviously, she needed a massage.  She
would just try to forget that it was from Thule.

   When the masseuse saw the receipt, she smiled, "Ahh.  The deluxe
treatment.  Great.  We don't get to do a lot of these."

   "You don't?" asked Marigold.

   "No," said the masseuse.  "You'll love it, though.  It's well worth what
you spent."

   "Actually," said Marigold.  "It was a gift."

   "Ah," said the masseuse.  She smiled broadly, pearly white teeth in
sharp contrast to her black skin.  "Your boyfriend?"

   "I, uh..." said Marigold.  "I'm not sure exactly what he is--not my
boyfriend exactly."

   "Well," said the masseuse.  "You may not know what he is, but he
certainly seems to think he knows.  I can't even get a man to spring for a
drink without thinking I owe him something."

   Marigold nodded thoughtfully.

   "I'm sorry," said the masseuse.  "If I talk to much, just tell me to
change the subject.  I'm Rita, by the way."

   Marigold took Rita's proffered hand, "It's all right.  I just have a lot
of thinking to do."

   Rita nodded, "Why don't you get undressed and get under the towel.  I'll
be back in a few minutes."

   Marigold discovered that, despite not looking particularly strong, Rita
had incredibly powerful hands.  The deluxe treatment apparently involved a
lot in the way of unguents and warm, scented oils.  It seemed to take a
long time before the massage worked its way beyond a light rubbing.

   Rita kept a running dialog going, but it was light enough that Marigold
was able to keep up her half of the conversation without much thought.  It
gave her plenty of time to think about what had happened.

   What had Thule meant by saying he was really done with Maya?  At the
time, Marigold had just assumed Thule was lying.  But, why would he?  He'd
never bothered lying to her before, seemed to take pride in the fact that
he didn't have to.  Did he just mean that he was done with her now that
he'd had her one last time?  Could Marigold live with that?

   At first, she couldn't believe she was even asking herself the question.
The idea was absurd.  Thule had blackmailed her, taken advantage of her,
turned her over to an old enemy, and cheated on her the moment her back was
turned.

   But, she also couldn't deny that she'd already taken most of that into
account and fallen in love with him anyway.  With the possible exception of
her parents and stepfather, no one had ever treated her as well as Thule
had when he wasn't being absolutely awful.

   As for giving her over to Maya, Marigold couldn't convince herself that
she hadn't deserved it.  And, unbelievably, Maya had forgiven her.  It was
like thinking she'd murdered someone and discovering that it had all been a
big misunderstanding and they were alive and well.

   All right, Maya wasn't exactly well, but she was alive.  And, she had
forgiven Marigold.  The thought made tears well up in her eyes.

   With embarrassment, Marigold had realized that she was crying in the
middle of a massage.  She reached up and wiped her tears away.

   "Don't worry about it, honey," said Rita.  "Deep massage can bring out a
lot of weird emotions.  Do you want me to stop for a bit?"

   Marigold shook her head, "No.  It's amazing."

   Rita nodded, "I take good care of you.  Don't I?"

   The massage went on for a while longer.  Then, Rita asked, "Marigold,
can I ask you kind of a personal question?"

   Marigold nodded, "Go ahead."

   "This not-boyfriend of yours, does he hit you?"

   "No," said Marigold quickly.  "Why do you ask?"

   "Well," said Rita.  "If I weren't massaging you, I would never have
noticed.  But, you've got a few spots where you're really sensitive and I
can't help but notice there are some minor contusions back here."

   Marigold laughed a little, "Rita, can you keep a secret?"

   Rita shook her head, "Nope.  I gossip like you wouldn't believe. 
Everything that goes in my ear comes right back out my mouth."

   Marigold laughed harder, "Well, could you keep one until I'm far enough
away that I don't have to hear it?"

   Rita laughed, "That I can do."

   "It wasn't my not-boyfriend.  It was a friend of mine--at least, she
used to be a friend of mine.  It's...complicated."

   "Sort of a not-girlfriend?"

   "That will work as an explanation," said Marigold.  "It's close enough.
She did this to me."

   "Was it consensual?"

   Marigold considered the question, "Yeah.  It was consensual."

   Rita laughed again, "So, you like to get freaky once in a while.  No big
deal.  Is she a pro?  She did good work.  It took me a while to figure out
what I was seeing.  I have a few clients who've been on the receiving end.
They don't look as good as you do--in terms of marking."

   "A pro?" asked Marigold.  "I really don't know.  It didn't occur to me
that people would pay for that sort of thing."

   Rita's laugh was heartier this time, "As near as I can tell, anything
one person can do to another, someone is willing to pay to have it done to
them."

   Marigold spent the next two minutes in contemplative silence.  She'd
just told a complete stranger the intimate details of her sex life--details
she would probably deny vehemently if accused of them by someone like
Brianne.  More interestingly, Rita has seemed completely nonplussed,
treating it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

   Marigold came to two conclusions.  The first was that her life was
getting too big and complicated to deal with alone.  The second was that
the world was probably a much more interesting place than she'd given it
credit for.



   -=-

   After the massage, Marigold had a manicure, a pedicure, and a shower. 
She came out unbelievably relaxed and, in general, feeling much better
about the world.  She'd resolved all of the issues weighing on her mind
except one.  She still wasn't sure she could get past the image of Thule
rolling over on top of Maya and fucking her.

   She wanted to.  If it had happened when she was there, she wouldn't have
minded so much.  She chuckled at that thought, but it was true.  She'd been
fantasizing about the idea of being Maya and Thule's lover through high
school only a few minutes before she'd caught them together.  Even now,
remembering the sensation of being pressed between them got her breathing a
little bit faster.

   In the middle of reapplying her makeup, Marigold paused to stare at
herself in the mirror.  She'd always worn very little.  But, she'd always
thought of herself as a girl too, not a woman.  Washing her face, she
started over.

   Considering the results, she started over again.  Then, she did it
again. This had all seemed much simpler when Holly had explained it to her
a few years back.  She hadn't thought it looked very hard.

   "Come on, Marigold," she muttered to herself.  "This isn't brain
surgery."

   On the third try, she finally got the result she desired.  She looked
grown up without being slutty.  That word's meaning had been radically
changed in her mind, but what looked slutty hadn't changed much.

   Stroking her hair, she debated doing something with it other than just
letting it hang down.  But, there wasn't much she could do here without any
of the beauty products she'd left locked in Thule's car.

   She'd started out not sure whether she was making herself pretty for
Thule or Adam.  But, that had been her shock and anger talking.  While the
idea of sleeping with Adam to even the score with Thule had a certain
appeal, Marigold was calm enough to realize how stupid it would be.

   Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she went to a pay phone in the
hotel lobby and dialed Thule's cell phone number.  It rang enough times
that she expected to get his voice mail.  Instead, he said, "Thule
speaking."

   "It's Marigold," she said quietly.  "Did I get you out of a meeting?"

   "Don't worry about that," said Thule.  "What's up?"

   "I..." Marigold had planned out what she was going to say, but the plan
escaped her at the moment.  Improvising, she said, "I just wanted to say
that I'll be at the hotel when you're done...That's all."

   The silence stretched on long enough that Marigold thought she might
have been disconnected before Thule said, "I'm really glad for that,
Marigold.  I'll see you there.  We can talk then."

   "Okay, Thule," said Marigold quietly.

   "And Marigold," said Thule.  "Stay away from Adam.  I'll explain later."

   Marigold felt absurd at how happy Thule's words made her.  She grinned,
"Of course, Thule.  I'll be good."

   Thule sighed over the phone, "All right, Marigold.  I should be there
shortly.  Get us a table in the restaurant, will you?"

   "All right, Thule.  I...I'll see you there." She hung up the phone.

   Marigold sagged against the wall.  The call had gone as well as she
could have hoped, but it had still been exhausting.  She took a moment to
catch her breath before heading over to the restaurant.

   At breakfast, the restaurant had already been somewhat crowded with
Sunday brunch people.  Now, there was a line waiting to get in.  Marigold
put her name on the list and found a convenient place to stand and wait.

   "Marigold," said Adam behind her.  "I was hoping to find you here."

   Marigold turned to face him, "Adam."

   Adam looked nervous, "Quite a queue, isn't there?  Are you and Thule
having lunch here?"

   "Yes," said Marigold.

   "And, where is Thule?"

   "In a meeting," said Marigold.  "He'll be here shortly." As
inexperienced as she'd been at flirting, Marigold had no idea how to
reverse directions now without creating a scene.

   Adam took a step much too close to her, "Why don't you come up to my
room and wait for him?" Just as Marigold opened her mouth to decline, she
felt something poke her in the ribs, looked down, and saw that he was
holding a small, snub-nosed pistol, "I really much insist."

   Before Marigold could protest, he had her by the upper arm and was
directing her towards the elevator.  Marigold tried to resist, but she
hadn't realized how physically powerful he was.  Before she knew it, she
was on her way up to the eighth floor, Adam turned towards her, pressing a
gun into her ribs.

   "Adam, what's going on?" she asked when she finally found her voice.

   "Don't you think it's time you stopped playing stupid?" Adam said.  He
sounded angry, "You and your partner really should have gotten your story
straight before you approached me."

   "I really don't..."

   "Who are you working for?" he asked, poking the gun deeper into her
ribs. They were walking down the hall now.

   "I don't..."

   Adam growled, "It doesn't matter.  You're too late anyway.  I sold it
this morning." They were at his door now.  Keeping the gun on her with one
hand, he reached awkwardly into his pocket, extracting his wallet.  He
backed away from Marigold, putting his wallet in his mouth to open it and
try to get the room key out of it with only one hand.  Unable to wiggle it
free, he took it out of his mouth, handed it to Marigold, and said, "Take
the key out.  Open the door."

   Marigold took the wallet and extracted the key card.  With shaking
hands, she opened the door.  As soon as she stepped in, the door slammed
shut behind her.  She turned, expecting to see Adam behind her, but she was
alone in the room.  She was just about to run for the phone and call the
police when someone knocked at the door.

   "Marigold, it's me," said Thule through the door.

   Marigold looked out through the peephole.  Adam was standing there,
looking pale.  Thule loomed over him from behind.

   "What's going on?" she asked.

   "Let us in," said Thule.  "We're going to resolve this."

   "Thule, I..."

   "Marigold, that's an order."

   Marigold found that her hands were no longer shaking as she opened the
door.

   "Have a seat, Adam," said Thule as they entered.  "We need to talk."

   Adam looked like he was about to cry.  When he stepped forward, Marigold
saw that Thule was now holding the gun she'd seen Adam holding earlier.  As
Adam sat on the couch, Thule took the gun, unseated the clip, cleared the
chamber, and began methodically removing the bullets from the clip.  His
motions were smooth and practiced, as if he'd done it many times before.

   "Christ, Adam.  Why did you have to bring guns into this?"

   "I..."

   "Skip it," said Thule.  "Where's your sample case?"

   "It's in the bedroom," said Adam.  "On the bed."

   Thule smiled at Marigold, "Get it, please."

   When Marigold came back with the case, Thule was sitting on a stool by
the kitchen counter, handing the gun back to Adam, "Put that away before
you hurt someone."

   Adam looked at the gun, puzzled.  Thule scowled at him, "For God's sake,
did you think you were going to shoot us in the middle of a hotel in New
York?  You wouldn't have made it out the front door."

   "I..." said Adam again, looking apologetic.

   "Never mind," said Thule.  "You're really not very good at this, are
you?"

   "I...No.  I guess I'm not."

   Thule indicated to Marigold that she should hand the case to Adam, "Open
it.  Get out the Model 1700.  Start it recording."

   Once it looked like Adam had complied, Thule took the device from his
hand.  It was the size and shape of a thick, high-quality pen.  Laying it
on the counter next to him, he said, "Here's what's going to happen. 
You're going to tell me everything you did.  I want you to keep the gun
visible so it's clear you're not being coerced.  I want all the details and
I want the whole truth.  Then, Marigold and I are going to leave.  You're
going to get on a plane and join your wife and kid wherever you sent them."

   "You...you're not going to try to take me back?"

   Thule shook his head, "Why in the hell would we want to do that?  We're
a surveillance firm and we can't even keep track of somebody like you. 
That would not be good publicity.  If you ever try to go home, you'll end
up in jail so fast your head will spin.  Keep your head down and we won't
stir up any trouble."

   Adam looked resolute for a moment before his face collapsed.  He started
crying, his head in his hands.  Thule shot Marigold a confused look before
he said, "Pull yourself together, man." Disgust was thick in his voice. 
Then, with much more compassion, he said, ""Marigold, get him a drink,
please.  There should be something in the refrigerator."

   "Scotch, please," said Adam, sounding miserable.  "There's some in the
minibar."

   When Marigold came back with his drink, Adam was mostly composed.  He
took the drink and started talking.  As one of their most promising sales
representatives, he'd been given access to some of Atech-Terra's most
sensitive prototypes after signing a ream of non-disclosure agreements.  A
competitor had offered a large sum of money for one of the prototype
cameras.  Adam had managed, through a series of security loopholes, to get
a working model prototype.  He'd come to New York and sold it and was now
getting ready to make good his escape.

   When he'd finished, he slumped into the chair, seemingly drained.  Thule
stood up, "You poor, stupid bastard."

   Adam looked up, his eyes oddly disinterested.

   "Don't be so sure you sold the prototype to a competitor," Thule said.

   Now, Adam looked interested.  His eyes were wide.

   Taking the camera off the counter, Thule did something to it, put it
back in the sample case, and closed the case.  Standing up, he took
Marigold by the shoulder, indicating she should follow him, "You have
little to worry about from us, Adam.  But, I suggest you get out of here,
get lost, and get to your wife and kid before your customers decide they
want to eliminate any trace of what they've done."

   Adam's eyes widened even further before he bolted for the bedroom.  By
the time they were out the door, Marigold could already hear him throwing
things around in an effort to get out as quickly as possible.  As soon as
the door was closed behind them, Thule was dragging her into the stairwell,
heading downstairs.  They moved swiftly, but didn't run.

   Marigold tried to ask a question, but Thule shushed her.  He seemed
intent on getting out as quickly as possible himself.  It wasn't until they
were out of the Holland Tunnel that he said, "I thought I told you to stay
away from him."

   "I tried," said Marigold.  "He approached me while I was waiting for a
table and pulled a gun on me.  Thule, what in the hell happened back there?
Were you after Adam this whole weekend?"

   Thule stared at her, "What?  No...no.  Of course not.  I was
improvising. Something about him didn't feel right.  I e-mailed a friend at
Atech-Terra and found out that Adam and his wife disappeared like a week
ago and the company thought something had happened to him."

   "You have a friend at Atech-Terra?" asked Marigold.

   Thule nodded, "Not exactly a friend.  He's more of a...professional
contact.  We frequent a number of the same mailing lists.  Listen.  That's
not important.  Are you okay?"

   Marigold considered the question, then nodded, "I'm a little bit shaken
up, but he didn't hurt me.  How did you know all those things about him?"

   "I didn't," said Thule.  "From what my friend told me, he was just a
salesman.  I thought he would crumble if confronted.  I...I never thought
he would turn violent.  I was improvising."

   "So, nothing you said to him was true?" asked Marigold.

   Thule shook his head, "I just wanted to get you out of there without the
situation turning violent.  I've had a lot of experience talking my way out
of dangerous situations."

   Marigold looked over at him.  Even a business suit couldn't hide Thule's
muscular form.  But, now that she thought about it, she'd never heard of
Thule being in a fight until the one with Elliot in the parking lot. 
Despite his ability to easily assume an air of menace when he wanted to, he
rarely followed through with the implied threat.  If he had, Marigold would
have remembered.  Until he'd turned on her, Marigold had made the mistake
of thinking him a harmless pariah that she could abuse without consequence.

   Watching Thule for some sign of what was going on behind his eyes,
Marigold saw nothing to give him away as anything other than what he had
appeared to be all along.

   "Thule," she asked.  "this isn't just revenge on me, isn't it?  You've
got something much bigger going on.  What is it?"

   For the first time, Thule looked rattled.  He looked like he was about
to deny what Marigold had realized.  Instead, he said quietly, "If you
really want me to explain, I will.  But, not today.  Think about how much
you want to know.  My life is not simple."

   "That much I figured out," said Marigold.  Changing the subject, she
added, "I wish you had been a little bit more specific when you told me to
stay away from Adam, though."

   Thule looked momentarily abashed, "I didn't think it was going to be
anything.  And, I didn't want to admit that I'd checked up on him.  I
figured keeping you away from him would serve our purposes."

   "I thought you'd finally decided you wanted me for your own--that you
wanted to keep me away from other men."

   Thule didn't answer for a while.  Finally, he said, "I do want your for
my own, Little Flower.  But, I can't ask you to stay away from other men. I
have unfinished business.  I'm going to need some people to trust me.  And,
I'll do whatever it takes to make them trust me.  I'm sorry, Marigold."

   Marigold shook her head, "Don't be.  Thule, after this weekend, I have
no idea who I am.  I feel like I've wasted most of high school trying to
live up to some foolish idea I had about myself.  You and Maya brought up
aspects of myself I tried a long time to bury.  Be patient with me, Thule.
I think I'm in love with you.  But, I don't know who you are and I don't
know who I am."

   Thule cleared his throat, "About me and Maya..."

   Marigold shook her head, "You don't have to explain.  I understand.  You
need her to trust you."

   Thule laughed, "God, no.  Marigold, you are so far off."

   "I am?"

   Thule nodded, "I woke up this morning, dimly aware that someone had
climbed on top of me.  I thought it was you.  I had no idea Maya was crazy
enough to do that while I slept.  When I realized it wasn't you, I tried to
push her off of me.  But, I was too far gone.  I'd...finished before I
could disentangle myself.  If I'd been awake and aware, it never would have
happened."

   Marigold breathed a sigh of relief, "So, you didn't enjoy it?"

   Thule shook his head in the negative, "Physically, yes--but only because
I had no context.  You have nothing to worry about with Maya.  Whatever we
once had, I would rather stick my dick in a meat grinder than go through
another relationship with her.  With the grinder, it would be over faster
and, ultimately, involve far less pain."

   Marigold lowered her head, "I need to help her, Thule.  She's the way
she is because of me."

   Thule shook his head, "You hurt her.  But, she's the way she is because
she choose to let her pain and outrage define her.  I've watched her change
over time.  You may have bent her, but she broke herself."

   "Even so," said Marigold.  "I need to help her.  I want to help her. 
She's someone who once meant a lot to me.  And now, she's suffering.  What
can I do?"

   Thule shrugged, "Talk to Jonas about it.  He's far better positioned to
help her than I am."

   Marigold looked puzzled, "What do you mean?  I don't think that even
Jonas could get her to go back to church."

   Thule started laughing.  Several times, it looked like he had it under
control.  Then, he would burst out laughing again.  Finally, he said, "Maya
is unlikely to see the church as an ally any time soon.  She blames it for
almost as many of her problems as she does you.  Jonas has given a lot of
money to mental health facilities in the area.  I was thinking he could
help her get admitted."

   "Do you think she would go?" asked Marigold.

   "She would probably take some persuading," Thule admitted.  "I guess I
would help with that."

   Neither spoke until they were nearly home, not out of discomfort but an
odd sense of familiarity.  It was Marigold who broke the silence.

   "Thule, are you sure you don't want to order me to stay away from other
men?  You could, you know.  You've still got blackmail material on me."

   Thule shook his head, "I'm still blackmailing you, but I can't--not in
good conscience.  But..."

   "Yes?" asked Marigold eagerly.

   "If you want to get involved with another man, I want a chance to talk
you out of it in advance.  I knew there was something wrong with Adam, but
I didn't say anything.  I wish I had."

   Marigold nodded, "Does that apply to men only?"

   It seemed to take Thule a moment to catch her meaning.  When he did, he
raised an eyebrow, "Do I have to worry about women, too?"

   "Worry?" asked Marigold.  "No.  But, you know my history with Maya. 
Like I said, I don't know who I am anymore, but I'm starting to remember
who I was."

   "You wouldn't be thinking about getting together with Maya again, would
you?"

   "Lord no," said Marigold.  "I want to help her, but not that much."

   Thule shrugged, "Knock yourself out, then."

   They were in Mannsborough when Marigold asked, "Thule, what's next for
us?"

   Thule gave a shrug, "If I have my druthers, we've got about a week
before I get really busy with...other things.  I would like nothing better
than to spend it with you."

   Marigold blushed, "I would like that, too."

   They were in front of the bus station, where Marigold's parents would
pick her up.  Neither seemed inclined to let the weekend end.  Finally,
Marigold took off her seatbelt and opened the door, "You'll come and get me
for school tomorrow?"

   Thule nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow, Little Flower."

   Princes of Mannsborough, Part 7 of approximately 23 (last chapter is
22.) by Vulgar Argot (nosex, rom, D/s)