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The Honest Courtesean Sept. 09, 2002 ] 8:42 PM She is a cold hearted bitch. She smells of lavender, she smells of fragrant smoke, and every object she owns is an anchor of such scented memory. She weighs each word, each wordless smile for the effect it has. Her voice is mutable, a murmur of delights and seductions. She rides into battle, her loins are girded. She will not be denied. Sheer force of will. Sheer presence of soul. She will, she has, she needs to be adored. wax ] wane