Vulkan decided to be relatively candid with her, as he had already decided that she could be an invaluable asset in his mission.

"When I fucked you, I infected you with a heat, a disease if you will," he told her, "a sort of nymphomania that can only be assuaged by more of the same."

"Sex with you?"

The satyr nodded as he forced his slowly subsiding phallus back into his breeches.

"What about those pills we just took, they seem to have curiously cooling effect, my whole mouth, my belly feel like ice."

"They will help you to fight the urge to copulate. Later, I will teach you another way of controlling yourself, but for now, there is no time.

He dropped some more of the tiny blue pills into her palm. Take one of these if you begin to inflame," he told her, "try to avoid frigging yourself and men who excite you."

"Why have you come to Leopold's Court," she probed, "and don't tell me you're just here to win our precious little Flamia."

She watched him as he weighed her up; she knew he was trying to gauge how far he really could trust her. She took hold of his hand.

"When I said back there on the road that I would be your truest and most faithful servant, I meant it, I have been waiting my whole life for a man like you to show me the meaning of true pleasure."

Vulkan decided to take a chance, but first.

"You are Leopold's cousin."

Only by marriage," she replied shrugging, "Maximilian carries the blood tie. My father was murdered by Leopold's father when I was a child – I have no love for his house."

"It will be very dangerous," Vulkan told her, testing still further, "Leopold will behead us both if we fail."

Jessica looked at him searchingly.

"It's the throne!" she gasped, sotto voce, "you think you can take the kingdom through marriage to the brat!"

"Aye, that and some carefully staged mayhem." He whispered back.

He peered into her eyes as she considered the import of his words, prepared to dispatch her and the crone outside at the least sign of duplicity – the pageboy he could track down later.