Chapter 6
There’d never been such a buzz in the brothel. None of the concubines knew what to do, sitting at too high an alert on their sofas as four huge vultae soldiers spoke to Jaxlyn in low voices that made it impossible to make out what they were saying.
They looked out of place in our tiny, kitschy brothel in their polished silver armored breasts over thick cotton frocks of silver and midnight blue—the palace colors—each of their garments embellished with the Novithian crest.
Every whore in the house had been summoned. Everyone but Lennox.
I kept stealing glances at his empty chair while a cold knot in my stomach twisted. There was no way he was still sleeping, right?
I hadn’t gotten to peek out the window at the silver carriage with the blue trim, but one had to imagine it was someone from the palace.
I’d never heard of a nobleman or member of the clergy making such a fuss to travel to a middle-of-nowhere brothel with armed soldiers, but perhaps there was a human shortage at the palace.
The Palace Ser Novithia was mysterious; the royal family even more so.
You didn’t hear much about them, as they only showed their faces once every couple of decades to throw a parade in celebration of the birth of a vultus child.
Rumor had it that their blood had been sanctioned by the gods, rendering them with fantastical powers that an everyday vultus could only dream of.
“I know we are a small brothel,” Jaxlyn was saying to the soldiers, “but we are more than capable of fulfilling any requests our guest of honor might have, and our humans are all so talented. They’re well trained in girth, length, and stamina. They were born to serve.”
Born a whore. What a concept.
“Is this every human available this evening?” one of the soldiers asked. Likely the one in charge, judging by how decorated his frock was, studded in little silver medals tied by colorful ribbons. “Our guest will need every option available at his disposal.”
I glanced at Lennox’s empty chair, the knot in my stomach growing.
“Yes,” Jaxlyn said, nudging Sindell from where she’d dozed off on her lounge.
She fluttered her green painted eyelids open and smiled weakly up at them.
“And I can make recommendations depending on our guest’s personal desires,” Jaxlyn continued, gesturing to Sindell. “This one, for example, is quite flexible.”
The guard didn’t return Sindell’s smile, which was likely a testimony to how well-fed and professional he was.
He nodded at his fellow soldiers. “This brothel is hereby under command of the palace. You are not to allow other patrons for the duration we’re here.”
“Of course,” Jaxlyn said. “Whatever our guest of honor wishes.”
The commander tipped his chin toward the door, hand on his sword, and the other three soldiers dashed out behind him.
I bounced as I stared at Lennox’s chair again.
“Who do you think it is?” Gladso asked, parting my seashell curtains to poke her head inside.
“Hmm?” I asked, dragging my gaze from his chair. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably a nobleman.”
“What if it’s the king?”
“It’s not the king. He has royal concubines who live with him. He doesn’t visit tiny brothels in the middle of nowhere.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know. Hey, have you seen Lennox?”
She squinted. “Who?”
“Lennox. He’s been here for weeks now. The new guy. That’s his name.”
“Oh, the new, new guy? Yes, that is tragic what happened.”
My heart stopped. My lips wouldn’t form around the words I needed. Not without my breath sounding behind them. “What’s tragic?”
“You haven’t heard?”
The bell jingled as the front door opened and in marched the four soldiers, except this time, they weren’t alone. They were huddled around a vultus as if to protect him from harm, like he was a precious baby.
Gladso whirled toward her lounge, but I snagged her by her elbow and hauled her inside my nook. She gasped as she fell onto my lounge.
“Goodness, Feloré,” she said, nearly out of breath. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“What’s happened to him?” I asked, scanning her eyes for answers. “What’s happened to Lennox?”
“Terrek sold him to a virgin. This morning, I believe.”
I couldn’t tell what I was doing with my face, but my voice was a crumbled mess as I asked, “W-why would he do that?”
“He got caught stealing from the brothel.”
“Stealing what?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the soldiers and the vultus in the middle. They dispersed as if it’d been choreographed, standing at attention by the door with their chests puffed up and faces void of expression.
“Gladso,” I whispered, shaking her arm. “Stealing fucking what?”
“Rice.”
My heart felt like it’d just split. Like a piece of it got torn from me in a loud and ceremonial rip.
I stared blankly at her face as she continued to explain words I couldn’t even hear. Then she was gone, scurrying from my nook as the shells clinked in her absence.
“Greetings,” Jaxlyn said warmly, “We’re so honored to have you, sir. Might I offer you a drink?”
I finally looked up from a daze. That was when I saw him. The demon they were protecting.
He was handsome. Painfully handsome and so pristine. Wealth and strength alike emanated from him as he lifted his hand swathed in black satin to his lips to hide a smirk.
Of course, he was smirking as he clutched the burdensome, silver-buttoned coat he wore tight around him, like someone might steal it.
Anger bloomed in my chest. Rage.
Here he was in satin and leather, having fed so well that his skin was glowing and dewy as he crinkled his nose as if in disgust of what he saw around him. And Lennox was likely already dead. Dead. Because of rice.
Because of…me.
I hated him. I didn’t need to know this fucking vultus to know I hated him.
Whoever this was, I didn’t care. I didn’t give one single fuck. It was not going to be me he chose for whatever extravagant nonsense this was.
I shot up from my lounge, shoving my curtains aside to hop down while every head in the room swiveled in my direction. The special vultus’s included.
“Um, Feloré,” Jaxlyn said, alarm growing in his wide eyes as he tried to fake a smile. “Where are you going? Please sit back down—”
“No,” I said through clenched teeth.
The demon’s gaze was glued to me. Something was so strange about him. It was his demeanor. It was the poise he wore like a magical cloak. He looked familiar.
“Feloré, return to your nook,” Jaxlyn said, eyes growing even larger as sweat began to bead on his brow. “Now, please.”
I glared at the demon. Glared without abandon. Then I said, holding his gaze, “I’m not interested.”