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"Exactly," said SceltoHe paused, somewhat awkwardly, which piqued her curiosity "What are you saying, Scelto?" "I, um, have been told by Tesios who has been looking after her that he has never seen or heard of a woman in the saishan with such control of her body or such capacity for the climax of love He was blushing furiously, which made Dianora abruptly self-conscious tooIt was a standard practice, with some quite unstandard variations, for the women of the saishan to use their castrates to give them physical release if too much time went by between summonses to the other wing Dianora had never asked Scelto for such a serviceSomething about the very idea disturbed her: it seemed an abuse, in a way she couldn't articulateHe had been a man, she reminded herself frequently, who had killed someone for love of a womanTheir relationship, close as it was, had never entered that dimensionIt was strange, she tiffany's jewelry thought, even amusing, how shy they could both become at the very mention of the subject, and Triad knew it came up often enough in the hothouse atmosphere of the saishan She turned back to the railing, looking down through the screen, to give him time to regain his composureThinking about what he'd said though, she found herself feeling a certain amusement after allShe was already working out how and when to tell Brandin about this "My friend," she said, "you may know me well, but in exactly the same way and for many of the same reasons I know Brandin very well She glanced back at her castrate"He is older than you, Scelto, he is almost sixty-five, and for reasons I don't entirely understand he has said he must live here in the Palm another sixty years or soAll the sorcery in the world would surely not avail him to prolong his life that long if lassica is as exceptional as Tesios suggestsShe would wear him out, miu miu bags in black however pleasantly, in a year or two Scelto blushed again, and glanced quickly back over his shoulderThey were quite alone thoughDianora laughed, partly out of genuine amusement, but more specifically to mask the recurring sorrow she felt whenever this one lie had to be told: the thing she still kept from SceltoThe one secret that mattered Of course she knew why Brandin needed to stay here in the Palm, why he needed to use his sorcery to prolong his life here in what was surely a place of exile for him in a land of grief He had to wait for everyone born in Tigana to die Only then could he leave the peninsula where his son had been slainOnly then would the full measure of the vengeance he had decreed be poured out on the bloodied groundFor no one would be left alive in the world who had any true memory of Tigana before the fall, of Avalle of the Towers, the songs and the stories and the legends, all the long, bright fake prada history-It would truly be gone thenSeventy or eighty years wreaking as comprehensive an obliteration as millennia had on the ancient civilizations no one could now recallWhole cultures that were now only an awkwardly pronounced name of a place, or a deciphered, pompous title, Emperor of All the Earth, on a broken pottery shard Brandin could go home after sixty yearsHe could do whatever he choseBy then she would be long dead and so too would be those from Tigana even younger than she, those born up to the very year of the conquest, the last inheritors The last children who could hear and read the name of the land that had been their ownEighty years, Brandin was giving himselfMore than enough, given lifespans in the Palm Eighty years to oblivionTo the broken, meaningless pottery shardThe books were gone already, and the paintings, tapestries, sculptures, music: torn or smashed or burned in the terrible year after tiffany bean earrings Valentin's fall when Brandin had come down upon them in the agony of a father's loss, bringing them the reciprocal agony of a conqueror's hate The worst year of Dianora's lifeSeeing so much of beauty and splendor crumble to rubble and dust or burn down to ashes of lossShe'd been fifteen, then sixteenStill too young to comprehend the full reality of what was being eradicatedFor her father's death and the destruction of his art, the works of his hands and days, she could mourn bitterlyAnd so too for the deaths of friends and the sudden terrors of an occupied impoverished cityThe larger losses, the implications for the future, she couldn't really grasp back then Many in the city had gone mad that year Others had fled, taking their children away to try to shape a life far from the burning or the memory of burning, of hammers smashing into the statues of the Princes in the long covered loggia of the Palace by the balenciaga giant brief bag Sea