Chapter Twelve Lor
Without a backward glance, I storm out of the house, needing air and space to breathe. I shouldn’t have snapped at Willow like that, but our argument weighs on my mind, and I’m not ready to forgive her yet. I’m angry she’s blaming me for her feelings, as though everything I did wasn’t for her. But that isn’t really fair. I know that isn’t what she meant, but I’m struggling to move past it.
We’ve always stuck together. Always been a unit. We never fight and have always supported each other because we were the only lifeline each of us had.
Now we’ve had our freedom for only a few weeks, and are we already drifting apart?
In addition to my drama with Willow, I also can’t stop thinking about my dream from the other night.
The idea that someone is out there sharing my family’s secrets for some nefarious reason sticks to the back of my throat. Who is it, and why do they hate us so much? Do they realize what they did to a group of children? Do they care? Or do they think we deserve everything?
The streets are busy at this time of day, and I pay little attention to the direction I’m walking. While I’d claimed I intended to go to Sonya’s for the pies everyone loves, I first need to work off some of this building energy. I’ll double back and pick some up on my return.
I’ll also go and talk to Willow. She’s been my best friend my entire life, and there’s nothing we can’t work through.
For now, I allow myself to get lost in the bustle and activity of Aphelion at the height of the afternoon. I’ve entered the Sixteenth District, home to entertainments of a carnal nature, evidenced by the dozens of bars, restaurants, and brothels all open for business and enjoying plenty of customers in the middle of the afternoon.
“Hey, gorgeous!” A male voice slices through my preoccupations, bringing me to a stop. He sits with a group of male High Fae, all nursing a round of drinks. The one who just catcalled me taps his thigh and winks. “Want some company?”
His friends start laughing, and I think of the dagger stashed in my boot. I don’t know why I didn’t start carrying one sooner. While Mael explained concealing a weapon without a proper grasp on how to use it is more dangerous than not having one at all, I’m not sure I believe that. I don’t need any skill to stick a man in his gut or, better yet, slice off his dick. I curl my lip, my eyes narrowing as I stare back, unblinking, wondering where this idiot gets off thinking he has any right to speak to me this way.
Why does it always come back to this? Even when I’m dressed this way?
The conversation with Hylene last night loosened something tight living inside my chest. Knowing her past wasn’t all that different from mine made me feel less alone. Though she spoke matter-of-factly about it, I recognized that same haunted look I know so well.
But she’s also forged those experiences into a spine made of steel armor that I admire.
My scars will never be completely erased, but I hope they won’t define the parameters of my present or my relationships forever. Willow claimed she’s the reason I’m always so angry, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
The leering man is still laughing, but whatever he sees in my face causes his grin to slip. I don’t move, glaring at him with the white-hot fury of my simmering rage, willing him to feel the shame of his behavior. Do I think he’ll learn a lesson? I’m not holding my breath, but at least for today, maybe it’s one less woman harassed by this prick.
Finally, he drops his gaze, muttering something to himself and then to his friends, who all cast wary, disgruntled glances in my direction, as though I’m the one to blame for ruining their fun. That’s right. Be afraid. Or ashamed. Or something that makes you realize that every woman who passes you doesn’t owe you her time.
When they’ve been sufficiently cowed to my liking, I turn away and scan the plaza. My nerves are still on edge. I wish I could tell what parts of that dream were real and what parts were simply conjured from the muddled haze of my memories. Did my subconscious fill in parts that didn’t happen? Did she really claim to know who and what I was, or is my mind stretching over the blanks, trying to close the gaps?
There’s a nicer-looking restaurant across the way where tables of women enjoy what look like tea cakes, along with sparkling wine. That seems a little more friendly.
As I make my way closer, I catch a snippet of conversation.
“A landslide in Tor,” one female High Fae says. “Crushed half the city at the base of the castle.”
“That’s awful,” says the second. “My Arthur says there are similar happenings in Alluvion. A hurricane wiped out half of the western coastline last week. Dead fish everywhere. Can you imagine?”
They both shake their heads as I frown. A second later, they catch me eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Sorry,” I say, about to retreat in the direction I came, when a woman emerges from the building, and I nearly miss a step.
It’s her.
It’s been so many years, and my memories are hazy, but I’m sure it’s the woman from my dream. I blink, reminding myself that can’t be true.
I killed her.
I rendered her into a husk of charred skin and bones in the forest. I shake my head, willing the scene to change. It’s just a coincidence. That woman is dead, and this one just bears a similar resemblance.
She says something to another group of High Fae females dining on the patio, and they air kiss each other’s cheeks before she turns to leave.
She walks with a slight limp, though her posture is straight as her cane thunks against the stone pavers. She’s the height of elegance in a long gown that seems a little fancy for this early in the day, but somehow she manages to pull it off. Her silver hair is swept away from her face and anchored at the crown, her long curls spilling down. It’s impossible to gauge her age, even by Fae standards.
She stops and looks around the square, her lips pursing when her eyes fall on the group of Fae who harassed me, still loitering outside. Then she turns and continues her journey. Before I give too much thought to what I’m doing, I start to follow. This can’t be the same Fae, and my imagination is working overtime, but I need to be sure.
I keep enough distance between us so she doesn’t sense me on her trail, and we both weave through the crowds, dodging vendors and shoppers pressing through the throngs. She’s clearly in no rush, stopping here and there to speak with this person or that or to survey a variety of wares as she passes. Everyone seems to know who she is, and she smiles at them all, moving in a regal way that suggests a life lived in relative comfort.
Finally, we approach the end of a street where a white stone building sits. It looks like a temple with its wide-angled roof and six round pillars gracing the facade. It reminds me of the ruin we passed in the forest, when Nadir told me about Zerra and her disciples.
Two stunning High Fae females stand at the top of the short set of stairs, wearing long white dresses that wrap around their bodies, very carefully displaying expanses of their luscious thighs, ample cleavage, and smooth stomachs. They smile and wave at passersby, who every so often stop and enter the building.
The woman I’m following heads up the stairs and into the building with a small bit of difficulty thanks to whatever is bothering her leg.
The gilded lettering inscribed on the front reads Priestess of Payne. I surmise this is some kind of religious-themed brothel, and from the look and regularity of the clientele, it’s both very popular and catering to elites with a very specific type of kink.
I pause with one foot on the bottom step, wondering if I should follow the strange woman inside. This is ludicrous, and I can already hear Nadir and Tristan scolding me for not paying enough attention to my surroundings while stalking some rich High Fae through Aphelion.
Especially one who might have tried to steal me when I was a child.
But… I’ve never been one to let a bad idea get in the way of my actions.
“Come on in,” one of the women beckons with a lilting voice, and I hesitate. But I need to see her up close. I’ll never be able to relax if I don’t. “There are many things to enjoy inside.”
I nod and head up the stairs, hoping I won’t regret this.
Inside isn’t quite what I expected. I always pictured a brothel to be dimly lit and draped in hues of red and black, but the religious-temple aesthetic continues inside with floors and walls of pale grey marble and windows cut into the ceiling, letting in thick beams of warm afternoon sunlight.
I think of the ruined temple we saw and wonder how Zerra feels about this place. Is the goddess a prude, or does she understand the power and influence of sex? Particularly when you’re a woman who’s been left with few other choices?
Another woman waits, this one even more scantily clad. Her priestess robe just barely covers her hips, the material sheer enough to hide almost nothing. She smiles with a set of perfect white teeth.
“The entrance fee is one hundred silvers,” she says, and I vacillate again. I should let this go. I imagined it. That can’t be the same woman. But I need to be sure.
I reach into the pouch at my hip and pull out the exorbitant sum. Thanks to Nadir and Amya, our mission is well funded. I don’t really understand money other than as a concept. One unexpected side effect of living in Nostraza was never learning the idiosyncrasies of these mundane tasks everyone takes for granted.
While I initially felt weird about taking Nadir’s money, he’s assured me it’s all part of his greater plan, and I’d be doing him a favor. Of course I don’t really buy that, but it does make life easier when you don’t have to worry about how to pay for anything.
“Did another woman come in here?” I ask, handing over the coins. “She had silver hair and was wearing a long blue dress?”
The female’s eyebrows pinch together. “You mean Madame Payne?”
“Yes,” I say, deciding that sounds right. The name outside had the unusual spelling of the word “pain,” and I surmise this must be a clever play on a surname. Besides, she was clearly someone important. “Her.”
“Yes, of course, she’s here. She’s probably in her office. I can send a messenger up if you tell me what your business is?”
Now I’m definitely unsure about this. What am I going to say?
I think I killed you fourteen years ago after you tried to kidnap me, but I just saw you in the street, and I want to be sure?
“Actually, it’s okay. I’ll just go in for now.”
I’ll get my bearings. Check things out and decide if there’s anything to worry about. Maybe I’ll return with Nadir, though the notion of him surrounded by these stunning, barely clothed Fae sits in my stomach like a rock.
Maybe Mael or Tristan then.
“Of course,” she says. “Melianne will show you to a table.”
She gestures to a High Fae with long red hair wearing another sheer white dress that hardly seems worth wearing at all. I nod as I follow her down a hall lined with intricate paintings of men and women engaged in various compromising positions. They’re beautifully done, and it’s hard not to admire the skill that went into creating them.
We emerge into a large, high-ceilinged room that looks like a conservatory with its tall windows, greenery, and colorful flowers perfuming the air. There’s a sunken pool in the center where several nude men and women frolic in the water. They’re accompanied by what I assume are other patrons, most simply watching with drinks perched in their hands.
Plush benches tucked away in corners cradle couples, trios, and various groups who talk softly with gentle touches and suggestive looks.
Melianne leads me down a few steps to a velvet settee, gesturing for me to sit. Almost immediately, another woman approaches.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asks in a sweet voice that sounds like crystal bells. “Perhaps a glass of sparkling wine?”
“Sure,” I say, “thank you.”
She pulls out a card and lays it on the table. I can see it’s a list of offerings. Spankings and whippings. Chains and canes and ropes. Degradation and praise, and some things I’m not even sure how to imagine. My thoughts can’t help but wander to Nadir and the idea of exploring some of these activities with him. I’m still a little miffed I didn’t get to see what he claimed he could do with his magic. But I really shouldn’t be entertaining these thoughts.
The woman returns with my drink and sets it on the table with a smile before she walks away with her hips swaying. My gaze wanders around the room, and I try not to stare, but it’s hard to ignore what’s happening around me.
The longer I sit, the more foolish I feel. What was I thinking?
I should go. This was stupid.
But that’s when I spot her.
She’s talking with someone across the room, and I’m instantly on my feet, making my way closer, her back facing me. I don’t have a plan, but I stop just as she finishes her conversation and turns around. She startles when she sees me, a hand going to her chest.
“Oh! You surprised me,” she says before her brow pinches together. “Can I help you?”
I blink because I was wrong. Now that she’s standing in front of me, I can see that while she bears a striking resemblance to that woman from all those years ago, this woman is different. Her nose is longer, and her eyes are a different color. Gods, I’m so stupid.
“No,” I say, shaking my head as her gaze travels up and down. “I’m sorry. I just thought…” I trail off. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
Before she can stop me, I spin on my heel and leave.