Chapter 5
It was two weeks later, and living with Landry had been challenging. I’d expected him to have moved on by now, but no such luck. He hadn’t spoken to me much, either, barring a few one-word answers between icy glares.
He’d also been cagier than I’d ever seen him, scribbling things in a journal he kept tucked beneath his pillow. I couldn’t help but suspect he was up to something. Like he was formulating a plan to speak to Terrek behind my back, which would be a nuisance but nothing I couldn’t handle.
With the stress at home, I’d found myself pouring most of my attention into Lennox, teaching him tricks of the trade like how to minimize his gag reflex or how to swindle a hungry demon out of extra coins by charging for ‘additional services’, only to have it be something nominal like a massage or hair braiding.
The progress was slow, but he was doing so much better. He’d built a small list of clients that visited him a few times a week. If he could just land one more vultus by the end of the day, he’d meet his quota for the first time.
I had a plan. I scored a quality robe (and by scored, I meant stole) because sometimes even just the appearance of success could help. A new robe implied the brothel owner felt confident enough to invest in him, so perhaps a vultus would feel the same.
If only he would answer his damn door.
“Lennox.” I knocked. “It’s me. Open up.”
Not a sound from the other side, which was odd. Typically, the door sprang open the moment I knocked, and there he was to greet me with a smile. I supposed it was early. Perhaps he was still in a deep sleep from a lover?
“Lennox.” I rapped again. “If we don’t get to the cauldron now, we might as well not go.”
That was what we called the community bathtub, as it was a heavy, dented black iron thing with green mossy scum growing around the rim.
Like a fucking cauldron. They only filled it once a week on Bathing Day, and if you weren’t at least the fourth or fifth in line, it was debatable if it was even worth it.
“Okay, but don’t come crying to me when there’s no soap left,” I said, hanging his new robe on his doorknob for him to find. I couldn’t help but smile a little because I could see his face lighting up. You’re serious, Feloré? This is for me? Thank you. Thank you so much.
“Get some rest,” I said to his door, holding out the arms of the robe. It was a champagne color, and it was going to look nice on him. “Come find me.”
A few minutes later, I was stepping up the shifty ladder of the cauldron and trying not to think too hard about the questionable lukewarm water as I lowered myself inside.
Where I was immediately assaulted by a wad of hair.
“Gods,” I screeched, flinging it onto the washroom floor, which it hit with a wet splat.
Jaxlyn paused from where he’d been scuttling around, picking up towels. “What was that?”
“Nothing. Hey, I’m glad you’re here.” I twisted around, swishing my hands through the murky water in search of the soap. “Maybe you can help me out with something.”
Jaxlyn was shaking his head, muttering under his breath, “Am I the only one capable of cleaning around here? I swear.”
I found the soap. It was an oat-colored sliver the size of a cut of radish. See, this was precisely why you had to get here early. “Have you seen Landry hanging around more than usual, by chance?”
“What do you mean?” Jaxlyn asked, tossing a grimy washcloth into a basket. “Define more than usual.”
“Have you seen him near Terrek’s study?”
“Near it? Near it how?”
I was hoping to ask it without having to ask it. “Do you happen to know if he’s visited Terrek?”
The question halted him.
“Perhaps while I’ve been busy with a feeding.”
He didn’t budge. I waited for him to answer, but he just stood in stillness, arching a scrutinizing eyebrow.
“What?” I finally asked when he didn’t utter a word. “What is that look?”
He shook his head, returning to his tidying. “It’s none of my business. I’d rather stay out of it.”
My brows lifted. “Well, that’s obviously not an option.”
He swatted a hand around. “I don’t want to be involved.”
“Involved in what? Is that a yes? You’ve seen him visit Terrek?”
“You know, when you two first got here,” he said, comparing two dirty towels, then folding the one that looked cleaner over the side of the tub for me. “Landry was a boy. He was thirteen and you were rightfully protective. But that was six years ago.”
Again, I blinked, awaiting his point. “And?”
“And he’s not a boy anymore, Feloré.”
“Not a boy? He’s only nineteen.”
“My point.”
“That’s a boy.”
“Is it? How old were you when you started working?”
I sucked my cheeks. I didn’t know specifically, but possibly younger than that. “I’ve always been more mature than him. It’s how I was able to care for him.”
“Okay, so next year when he’s twenty, will you let him make his own decisions then?”
My swallow was a little dry. I dare not say the thing I wanted to say, which was, So long as they’re the right decisions.
“What about when he’s twenty-one? Twenty-two? How long do you control—?”
“I asked you if you happen to know if he’s visited Terrek,” I said, struggling to conceal the bite to my tone. “I didn’t ask if you had advice on fostering him.”
He held up his hands, shifting his attention back to the floor as he bent to pick up a grimy washcloth. “Not that I know of.”
Well. That was a relief. Jaxlyn knew of everything that happened in the brothel.
“But.”
I lifted my gaze back to him as I froze. “But what?”
He parted his lips, but hesitated, like he was unsure if he should continue. “Well, he did ask me to do something I thought was a bit odd.”
I searched his eyes. “Like what?”
“A few days ago, he asked me if I could get a letter to someone.”
My eyes narrowed to a squint. A letter? “To whom?”
“I didn’t ask.”
I sat up a little taller, not knowing how to feel. “Well…what did you say?”
“I said I probably could, depending on where it needed to go,” he said, repositioning a chair against the vanity. “He’s never asked for much, but he told me not to tell you.”
Something about it sent a pang of panic into my heart, but I didn’t quite know why. “Why not?”
“Perhaps he wants some privacy.” He bent to snag a pair of lacy undergarments, which he tossed into a basket. “He’s a good kid, you know. Really bright. Hopeful.”
No, he was scheming. Going behind my back to Jaxlyn was scheming. I sat back against the edge of the tub, chewing my lower lip. A letter. And just who the hell was he writing? Corbyn?
“Wait.” Jaxlyn halted. “Wait, shouldn’t you be asleep right now? How are you awake?”
And if it was to Corbyn, then I had to stop it. I had to intervene. Corbyn was going to take advantage of him. Hurt him. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t stand it—
“Feloré.”
I blinked up at Jaxlyn, who was giving me the most bizarre look.
“How are you still standing?” he asked. “Weren’t you just with two of them, back-to-back?”
I nodded, frothing the soap in my hands, scrubbing them over my face. “The one who owns the tavern and that other one. You know the one. I think it’s his uncle.”
“But you don’t even look tired for having just been with two.”
“It takes a lot to tire me,” I said, splashing my face with water that did not smell like it would get anything cleaner.
His eyes narrowed to a squint. “That’s strange, no? Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t fucking know, Jaxlyn. Perhaps I’m enchanted.”
He snorted, snagging the wad of hair I’d flung onto the floor to toss it into the bin. “Enchanted my ass.”
“This is what I’m saying. My ass is enchanted.”
A smirk twitched his lips. “No, your ass is stubborn. And impossible. Your ass is a pain in mine—”
“So enchanted, in fact, that it should have its own wing of the brothel. We’ll call it Feloré’s Enchanted Ass Wing.”
A chuckle slipped past his lips before he could stop it. He bounced on his heels, gazing off into the distance. “It has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”
I smirked. “Indeed, it does.”
It wasn’t often that the veils of our perspective roles could slip away long enough for us to experience bright little moments of connection. I had a feeling he thought it was somehow easier on this side of things. Easier to be a concubine instead of the one who’d been chosen to manage us.
But nothing was easy in Novithia. Unless you were a sex demon.
“Jaxlyn!”
We both whipped our heads to the door of the washroom where Gladso, a veteran concubine, was standing, heaving for breath like she ran here. Even her braids had loosened, scattering wisps of chocolate brown hair down her neck.
“We have a situation,” she said, swallowing as she panted. “You need to come right away.”
Jaxlyn adjusted his spectacles on his nose. “What is it?”
“There are vultae here. Four or five. They say they’re from the palace.”
Jaxlyn and I both balked as we asked in unison, “The palace?”
“They came in two separate carriages, because like I said, there’s a lot, and one of the carriages is, oh, my gods, fancy. You won’t believe it.”
Jaxlyn’s face had lost a shade of color as a divot in his brow creased. “Wh-what do you mean? Fancy how?”
“It’s silver. An honest to gods silver with a blue trim, and it’s so clean. I’ve never seen one so clean.”
“Why would…?” Jaxlyn whispered to himself beneath his breath, his head shaking a bit. “Where’s Terrek?”
“Gone already.”
He cursed, chewing his thumbnail. “Are we in trouble or something?”
Her gaze wandered the walls as if she was deciding. “Don’t think so. Doesn’t seem that way.”
“Well, then what do they want?”
“It’s a brothel,” she said, offering a shrug. “They probably want to eat.”
“Eat?—shit. Shit, shit. Of course. Okay, round up all our best ones. Go get Sindell, she’s upstairs with someone.
If she’s drowsy, give her some wake-berry juice.
Is Andres still with fever? Doesn’t matter.
Drug him too, if you must. And Feloré, where’s your earring?
Get your earring in. I need you in your nook. ”
I stepped from the bath, stumbling when he grabbed my shoulders and yanked me into him, burying his nose in my neck to sniff me.
He shoved me away again and pointed to the tub. “Get back in there. I’ll run you some fresh water.”