Chapter 15
Fifteen
Honeysuckle vines encasing the Bidding House droop lifelessly in the cool rain as Captain Wellcrest lurks nearby under the magnolia tree, giving me some privacy.
Inside the mansion, courtesans laugh and sing their practiced melodies, shadows dancing behind curtained windows—a reminder of who I was. So much has changed in just a few weeks. Rain droplets run down my face, mingling with tears on the swell of my cheeks.
Sneaking around the manor’s perimeter, I reach Madame Phyrne’s window in the back garden. Knowing that it’s always left slightly ajar for her cat, I hoist myself through—just like I used to do in my misspent youth—and tumble inside, my feet tangling in layers of skirts and petticoats.
Her office is empty.
Phyrne, who is usually working from her desk, isn’t here. Her chair is an open void that leaves a strange pang in my chest.
“Tabitha.” Her voice rings out, causing me to skitter out of my skin.
“You’re too old to still be climbing through windows.
” She’s always been a master of hiding in plain sight, a skill that often catches her pupils off guard.
“And at any rate, I would have thought you would be too busy to return here.”
I flip around, my wet cloak clinging to my dress. “How could you even suggest such a thing?” I lie, embarrassed that I’ve been avoiding her.
“The past is easy to forget when adjusting to a new purpose,” she replies evenly as she holds a chubby orange tomcat that we all affectionately call Thomas. She slowly strokes his fluffy mane. The frail woman from the turret is gone; her iron-willed countenance has returned.
“I wouldn’t forget my home.”
“Then child, please explain why you’re climbing through the window like a thief in the night?”
A thousand different answers run through my head.
“Because I need to know why you didn’t tell me.
” My voice is suddenly childlike. I feel stupid repeating the king’s words, but they are all I have to cling to.
I’m taken back to those academie days, racing to her in tears over some scraped knee or silly quarrel, seeking her cold and restrained comfort.
She was the closest thing to a mother I ever had, and I’m sure she tried her best, but…
Phyrne places Thomas on the floor, and he slinks toward me, rubbing against my legs. That pang in my chest burrows deeper. I miss my old life, including the cat’s late-night visits.
“You couldn’t think of a better excuse?” she asks matter-of-factly. Her words bring a shameful heat to my cheeks. She sinks into her chair with a weary sigh. “As I’ve told you before, I did as Theodora requested. You’re already aware of all this. So why are you truly here?”
“I craved an escape you could have given me at any time,” I choke, bitterness welling. “I deserved to know that I was different…”
“You are no different from the others.” Phyrne levels a stern look at me. “You were delivered by a courtesan mother, just like every courtesan born before you. Remember, it’s our way of life, and we have duties to perform. You aren’t special in that regard.”
“Oh, yes.” I roll my eyes and scoff. “Never forget what’s expected.”
“By declaring that you didn’t belong to the king, Theodora also labeled you a bastard the night of your birth. That made you no better than any other babe left with me.”
I grumble a hollow laugh. “Say whatever you need to absolve yourself. It’s not like this new life is any different.
Sure, I may have a new title, but it comes with more constraints, more rules, more judgment.
” Plucking the circlet from my head, I toss it onto her desk.
The Alexra shimmers against the dark mahogany grain as the whispers in my mind lash out angrily in response.
“You have choices, Tabitha.” Phyrne doesn’t touch the circlet. “Marry and cede power to a husband who can rule for you, or struggle against the council alone. I’m no fool; I know they will be working against you every step of the way.”
I shake my head as my stomach pinches and twists—neither path is appealing. Abdication looks to be my only choice.
“Then by all means, choose a different course entirely.”
I glance at her through dampened eyelashes. “What do you mean?”
“Leave.”
My heart skips a beat or two.
She knows.
She knows exactly what I yearn for. I picture a quiet life in a quaint bookshop, far away from this kingdom—a place where nobody recognizes my name or face. But something about it feels oddly absurd. Alexandria is my home.
“I cannot.”
At least not yet…
“Then you’ll learn how to carry this burden better, if not for yourself, then for those who support you.”
I’ve never been so unsure of myself. Panic gnaws at my confidence, and I don’t know what to say.
“That’s what I thought,” she chides. Her smugness makes the temperature rise around my ears. “Now come and get this oversized trinket off my desk.”
I pick up my circlet and place it back on my head, ashamed of my childish behavior. For some reason, this woman knows how to draw this side of me out.
“I’m glad you’re here, though. Before you leave, there’s something I want to give you,” she says, rummaging through the desk drawer.
Standing up, she reveals a very long and very slender letter opener.
The silver is sharpened to a razor-fine edge along the blade, and the handle is a tiny replica of a sword’s hilt.
I blink. “The same one?”
“The very one that severed your lifecord. I always keep it ready. Don’t let it dull.” She presses its heavy weight into my open palm.
A weapon, if need be.
“Should I be concerned about the witches from your vision?”
“Everyone should be worried,” she warns, locking her serious eyes with mine.
“Who are they?”
“You’re aware of what they did to me,” she whispers.
“I won’t invite them into my mind again by calling out their true name.
You’ll have to find your answers elsewhere.
” Phyrne sits back down, dips her quill into the inkpot, and returns to the bidding contracts on her desk.
“Oh, and Tabitha, be a dear and use the front entrance this time.”
The cat twists between my legs, nearly tripping me as I leave.
That’s fine.
If she doesn’t want to tell me about the witches, then surely Wella will. With the endless other things I must do, I make a mental note to research this further.
As I step away from Phyrne’s study, I notice a person standing next to the paneled wall. Vennisa blocks the corridor, arms crossed. She lowers into a mocking highborn curtsy. “Your Grace, what an honor to welcome you home.” Poison drips from each dangling word.
I suppress a retort with a narrowing of my eyes. “Thank you for seeing me out.”
“Of course. The girls will be thrilled to hear you came by.” She smiles sweetly. “You really must visit more. They do so miss your company.”
I raise an arched eyebrow at her outright lie. “As the new High Lady Courtesan, I’m sure you keep them entertained well enough in my absence.”
Vennisa’s red-lipped smile doesn’t reach her powder-blue eyes.
“My Keeper brings me tales from the High Council. With the war growing daily, it surprises me that you have any time for us at all.” Her sentiment repeats Phyrne’s jibe, which makes me realize she is parroting an earlier conversation with the madame.
I step around her to finish my descent through the gilded foyer, my boots making soft thuds on the marble floor. I can’t help but slow down and ask, “Speaking of your Keeper, shouldn’t you be with the High Justice?”
A little girl with chestnut braids and ruffled bloomers peeking from under her lavender dress darts out of the drawing room.
She slides across the marble floor and catches herself on Vennisa’s velvet skirt.
Vennisa gives a tinkling laugh as she prevents herself from falling.
Refraining from looking at me, Vennisa gives the girl all her attention as she answers, “He’s busy tonight.
” Taking the girl’s hand in her own, she turns to leave with her charge.
The other courtesans, still practicing music, tease each other through the doorway.
Their glowing radiance reflects off the walls as the younger girls shriek with ribbons of glee.
I’ve never liked group activity time, but the familiar scent of vanilla and honey beckons, despite my hardened feelings.
It smells like home.
I call out, “I’ll ensure the courtesans have excellent seats at the coronation.”
A twinge of something flickers across Vennisa’s pinched expression. “We eagerly await it.”
A servant opens the front door so I can leave. When I step into the rain, it relieves my heated face. As each drop hits my skin, I remind myself why I’m doing this—why I’m bothering at all before I abdicate.
It’s for them.
They can hate me all they want, but if I can change the laws so that courtesans aren’t forced into this life… then maybe, just maybe, it’ll all be worth it when little girls have a choice for their future.
I take long strides down the street when Captain Wellcrest’s careful voice joins the sound of my feet on the cobblestones. “Did you accomplish your task?”
“As done as it’ll ever be.”
“If you wish to return, you need only let me know. We could arrange carriages, or we could keep it private like tonight.”
Stabbed by the sharp point of loneliness, I’m overcome with the urge to walk by Lir’s cottage and see if he’s home, but that’s not a road I want to travel with Captain Wellcrest on my heels. So instead, I press the smooth metal of the letter opener between my palms and move forward.