Chapter Six
Lauressa's Mirror
Eleanor cursed herself as she made her way up the wooden back stairs from the midday breakfast to Lauressa’s room.
The back stairs were the main thoroughfare of the pleasure house.
The ladies had access to the kitchen, their rooms, and a hidden door that connected to the client-friendly area of the pleasure house.
Lauressa had asked, over their breakfast of sticky porridge, for Eleanor to style her hair the same way Eleanor had done the other night, after she’d come back from the Moonlight House.
For a reason unbeknown to Eleanor, she’d agreed to the woman’s request. She’d thought nothing of it, as she left the giggling and chattering of the kitchen behind her.
But now Eleanor firmly blamed Madam Grace for this situation.
After all, she’d been helping the other ladies at the madam’s threatening directive, instead of keeping to herself.
Though tempted to grab a swig of her weak wine hidden beneath the floorboards, Eleanor decided against it.
The coffee, barely better than dishwater, had surprisingly tasted drinkable this morning, so Eleanor had drunk additional cups of coffee.
It was enough to prevent Eleanor from acting on habit and instead, she made herself go to Lauressa’s room.
Eleanor knew that life wasn't so bad at The Ladies Grace; a clean dry bed, a roof over her head, access to cheap booze, and the monthly visit from a reputable healer.
She'd been in worse places and for much longer.
After losing to Madam Grace in that card game, Eleanor had intended to spend a few years here, to keep her head down, pay off her debt, and then move on.
Now she was inserting people into her life.
People that had no business being there.
Lauressa’s door was wide open, and she beamed at seeing Eleanor by the doorway. Eleanor groaned internally; she could have used some wine for this.
“Eleanor! Come, come.” Lauressa encouraged Eleanor into her room and vibrated with happiness, her faded flowery dressing gown flapping around with her excitable movements.
The small room was near identical to her own, with a plain single bed with thin sheets shoved against one wall and a single wardrobe against the other wall, but Lauressa had added her own personalised touch to it.
A piece of aged fabric had been tacked to the small window and tied it aside with a short ribbon.
A small, polished, wooden table leaned precariously to the left, stood beside the wardrobe.
A cracked oval mirror balanced on the wobbly table, propped against the wall.
It would have been jarringly out-of-place, if not for its brokenness.
“Like it?” Lauressa waved her arms around the room and noticed Eleanor’s eyes had caught on the mirror. “I found it at the back of Worth’s. Had to carry it all the way from the Centre,” Lauressa said with pride.
Eleanor was baffled by the mirror’s shattered state, trying to understand how that could have happened.
Worth’s was the kingdom-renowned outfitters, and they designed the latest fashions for all the nobles.
They imported the finest fabrics and silks from faraway overseas kingdoms and Eleanor couldn’t even guess at how much they charged for a single item of clothing.
It made no sense that those soft handed nobles were having drunken brawls in such a fashionable and exclusive shop.
Large sections of the mirror’s golden gilding had broken off the frame, and the paintwork was chipped. A crack bisected the mirror, with spider-like veins radiating from it. Despite its damage, it was still functional but wasn’t presentable enough for a place as prestigious as Worth’s.
“It’s…it’s something, that’s for sure,” Eleanor said, giving her a small head nod and smile.
The compliment, though small, caused Lauressa's face to light up, her eyes sparkling with genuine pride. A triumphant wide smile broke across her features as if she recalled her successful, stealthy journey across the city, the thrill of avoiding the city guards still fresh in her mind. The retrieval of the item would have presented itself as a surprisingly difficult challenge, demanding effort and perseverance to both find and return it without getting caught. If Eleanor could still feel magic, the soft breeze whispering through the crack in Lauressa’s window would have murmured tales of her cleverness, a cool touch against her skin.
On the bed lay a wooden comb, plain hairpins, and several ties. Uncomfortable with the silence, Eleanor sat on the edge of the lumpy mattress and gestured for the woman to sit between her legs on the floor.
“My clients all paid me extra for looking like a right fancy lady. They did,” Lauressa said as she settled herself down. “Ma was a servant in a fancy house or something?”
“Does it matter?”
“Guess not.” Lauressa gave a little shrug and tossed her fawn brown hair behind her back.
Eleanor could tolerate that she’d agreed to style the young woman’s hair, but she wasn’t swapping stories. Eleanor would have contentedly sat in silence while she worked and then, once she was done, reward herself with a few mouthfuls of wine.
Was it too early to drink?
…Probably not.
“Hmm…” Lauressa gave a contented sigh as Eleanor ran the comb that was missing a few teeth through Lauressa’s soft, long hair. “It’s so relaxing having your hair brushed.”
Eleanor produced a noncommittal throat-clearing, hoping this served as an answer.
“What’s it like? The palace?”
“It’s like everyone says,” Eleanor replied, hoping that’d put an end to the questions.
“Can’t you tell me?” she asked.
Eleanor looked up from separating Lauressa’s soft brown hair into sections, seeing the woman’s reflection in the broken mirror. Then, she realised what she was asking: to take her away from this place, even if only in her dreams.
Lauressa likely didn’t know anyone who’d been to the palace; like everyone else in the kingdom, she relied on rumours and second or third-hand accounts.
But Lauressa had aspirations and liked the finer things, judging by the mirror-finding expedition she’d been on.
Eleanor wondered what other discoveries the woman had uncovered while exploring that part of Breninsol.
“Close your eyes,” Eleanor replied, more quietly than she’d anticipated, and saw Lauressa comply in the mirror’s reflection.
“Imagine a room bigger than any you’ve ever been in.
Bigger than the welcome room. A room so tall that you can’t see the ceiling in the low light,” Eleanor said as her fingers started the nimble process of plaiting the small side sections.
“Bigger than the sculpture hall in the museum?” Lauressa asked, surprising Eleanor that she had been to the Kingdom’s Museum.
“Bigger. Taller, wider, and longer.”
“But that’s…” Lauressa trailed off, trying to imagine a room of such size.
“Hmm, that’s just the ballroom.”
Lauressa gave a sharp inhale, but Eleanor continued. “Now, imagine that large room with several chandeliers. You know the one in the welcome room?”
“Yeah,”
“Imagine one bigger, heavier. Three times the size of that one, and there’s several of these massive chandeliers.”
Lauressa inhaled. “So many,”
“The walls are pure white marble, and…you know the gold decorating your mirror?”
“Yeah?”
“That sort of style decorating the walls with the white marble.”
“And that’s just one room?” Lauressa asked with an awestruck voice.
“Yes.”
The rhythmic tug of Eleanor’s hands, weaving the small braids on the other side of Lauressa’s head, lulled her into thoughts of immense riches.
The soapy scent of the woman’s hair, a mix of vanilla and something floral, filled Eleanor’s senses as she braided, each golden strand a whispered hope for the woman’s dreams.
“I’m going to be chosen next time,” Lauressa gave a little head nod, to confirm her ambition. “And I’m going to be picked in the Collection. I have to be.”
Eleanor gave a small smile in the mirror and murmured. “I’m sure you will.”
Before Lauressa tried to start another conversation with her, Calla poked her head into the room. The scarf covering her bright blonde hair matched her blue eyes that looked warily at Eleanor.
“Oh, don’t mind Eleanor. She’s not as stuck up as we thought,” Lauressa said as she waved her hand to encourage Calla to come in.
Eleanor resisted the urge to raise her eyebrow and concentrated on the task at hand.
Eleanor had been at The Ladies Grace long enough to hear most of the gossip, even the whispers that circulated from each of Breninsol’s pleasure houses.
She’d kept to herself, not interfering with any of the ladies, and they’d left her alone.
It dawned on her that they had left her alone due to a misunderstanding about her being a snob, not because she desired a solitary life.
She once again reminded herself that, instead of living a life where no one bothered her, she was bothering herself with people.
Calla’s reluctant hesitancy morphed into a bright grin as she plopped onto the floor in front of Lauressa. She pulled out a small leather pouch from a frayed pocket in her dressing gown and shook the pouch. “Look what I got.”
“What? What is it?” Lauressa asked.
Calla’s smile was mischievous as she dipped a finger into the bag.
With a sharp gasp from Lauressa, Eleanor's head snapped upwards, instantly aware of the imminent danger. But, noticing the glint of gold on Calla’s finger, Eleanor immediately realized Calla’s pouch, heavy with the golden soil, was from the previous night’s lavish party. The soil glistened in the dim light.
“Where’d you get that?” Lauressa asked.
“It’s who you know,” Calla replied in a sing-song voice, pleased with herself, and licked the golden fragments off her finger. “It’s divine,” she purred.