Chapter Six #2
Eleanor was close enough to see the golden substance clearly in the daylight, and she realised why she’d mistaken it for soil.
It clumped together like sand or fine soil, and Calla had confirmed her inner questions about the substance.
It could be ingested. Overcome by curiosity at being so close to the mysterious substance, Eleanor couldn’t resist a deep inhale, hoping to glean some information—a refreshing salty scent of a water witch, a pure breath of an air witch, a warm crackle of a fire witch, or even, a sturdy loam of an earth witch.
But without her magic, unless the item was deeply imbued with magic, she wouldn’t know.
Regardless, Eleanor’s feelings for this golden soil remained unchanged from last night.
She wanted nothing to do with it, whatever it was. Something about it didn’t feel… right .
Calla poured a sprinkling of the golden soil into her palm and moved it around with her finger.
“Are you sure that stuff is safe?” Eleanor asked. She didn’t know why she was getting involved, yet she was getting involved, nonetheless.
“Course it is. The king wouldn’t be letting his courtiers have it if it wasn’t,” Calla replied, somewhat defensively.
Eleanor wanted to reply that the king doesn’t give a rat’s arse what his courtiers get up to as long as his taxes get paid, but she bit her tongue knowing a combative nature when she saw one.
What do you care?
Don’t get involved, remember.
Eleanor remembered what happened when she was involved in people’s lives, now she kept that number as low as possible. If anything, she desired less company; her existing relationships already felt burdensome.
Eleanor shook her head and returned her attention to braiding Lauressa’s fawn brown hair. As Eleanor gathered the small group of plaits together and wrapped the group of strands around the loose hair, she kept an eye on Calla and her golden finger.
Once more, Calla dipped her finger into the golden soil, so it sparkled in the sunbeam coming through the grimy window, and offered it to Lauressa, who licked it up quickly. As if Eleanor were an overbearing mother trying to stop her.
“Hmm…” Lauressa hummed in glee at the taste of it.
“See,” Calla said, with a self-satisfied tone.
“It’s amazing,” Lauressa said in awe.
As Eleanor began pinning Lauressa’s hair in a low bun at the nape with some bent pins, the floorboards outside the door let out a loud groan. Calla snatched up her pouch and slipped it back into her pocket, while licking her fingers clean.
“Having fun, flower ?” Iris smirked at Eleanor from the doorway.
Iris knew full well Eleanor wasn’t having any fun. Eleanor ignored her and checked Lauressa’s hair to make sure it wouldn’t fall loose.
“Loads,” Lauressa replied in a humming voice.
“What do you think?” Iris asked, plucking at her vivid violet dress, which brought out a golden glow in her complexion.
“They’ve arrived!” Calla shrieked as she pushed up off the floor, forgetting all about the golden soil, and barged her way past Iris, making the woman chuckle with an indulgent smile.
Stars , she needed more coffee to deal with this today …or wine .
“New dresses?” Eleanor asked, as she refined Lauressa’s hair style.
“They feel lovely and soft. The tight old bat must have pushed the boat out and paid for fancier fabric,” Iris replied.
Judging by Iris’s dress, they seemed to be identical, featuring revealing sheer designs with plunging necklines down to the midriff, albeit in brighter colours.
“All done Lauressa,” Eleanor declared. “You might get away with charging triple tonight.”
Lauressa jumped up and gave her hair a quick pat and look in her broken mirror with a wide smile. “Yeah, I reckon so.”
Someone called Lauressa’s name from somewhere further away in the house, making her dash past Iris and throw a “thanks” over her shoulder.
No doubt to admire the new dresses, to use it as added motivation to be a courtesan for the next court season, or to borrow a dress for her clients to match her fine new hair style.
Before Iris could poke at Eleanor or reveal the real reason she’d bothered her, a loud thud and a grunting of muttered voices came from somewhere beyond Lauressa’s room, causing Eleanor to join Iris in the doorway to see what the commotion was.
“Be careful with it,” Mirabella chastised, as she backed out of one of the spare rooms, carrying one side of the large item in her hands.
Had Mirabella, with her light hair and rosy complexion, arrived before Calla at The Ladies Grace, she would have likely been paired with the Petals but instead, she and Annabella became the pleasure house’s favourites.
“Honey Room tonight?” Iris asked.
Mirabella grimaced as she continued walking backwards.
Removed from their bedrooms, the lavishly decorated client rooms, each painted in various colours and boasted lofty names, offered a stark contrast. It was Madam Grace’s thinly veiled effort to elevate The Ladies Grace.
Blind the clients with glitz and glamour and they won’t look beneath the surface.
In those rooms, the primary advantage and, arguably, the main attraction, revolved around the readily available alcohol.
The liquor was always higher quality than the kitchen’s watered-down spirits, allowing her to enjoy a few swift shots of better-quality booze.
Eleanor steered clear of the Forest Room, making a conscious effort to avoid it at all costs.
“I don’t know why we keep this up here. Leave it downstairs.” griped Milk as he followed Mirabella out of the spare room, carrying the other side of the over-sized basket.
“You know there’s no room for this down there.” Mirabella replied as she backed up, coming closer to them in Lauressa’s doorway, causing Eleanor and Iris to step into the room to make way, as Milk continued grunting in annoyance.
“Fletcher coming today?” Iris asked with a knowing smirk.
“Oh, he’ll be coming alright,” Milk guffawed as he walked past, holding his side of the adult sized basket. The wicker creaking would have sent Eleanor back to a screaming hot place, if not for her hold on the cold door frame and Mirabella’s sharp tone cutting through the scratching.
“Careful,” admonished Mirabella, as Milk nearly lost his grip on the basket going down the stairs.
“I swear this gets heavier every time we move it,” Milk huffed, adjusting his hold.
“Can’t be any worse than having to wear a tailclout and suck on a bottle while he wanks off on the bed,” Mirabella snapped.
“At least you get a good bottle of wine,” Milk replied with an equal amount of bite to his words.
Certain requests appeared unusual to Eleanor, but if adults consented, and no one was getting hurt, what was the problem? It was unfortunate that these clients couldn’t ask their partners, if they had any, for these requests.
Eleanor and Iris murmured, “tits up” to the parting pair as they descended the stairs with the over-sized basket between them.
“Westgate Street got flooded yesterday,” Iris said to her, now the hallway was empty.
Eleanor leaned against the cold wall. “The fountains overflowed again?”
“Apparently it was coming from a house,” Iris replied as she ran a hand over the straps that criss-crossed over her slim stomach.
Eleanor narrowed her eyes at Iris as she folded her arms. “Pipe cracked?”
Iris shook her head. “They recently checked the pipes in that part of the city.”
Eleanor didn’t know if Iris was bluffing, nor how she might have gained that information, but Eleanor wasn’t rising to the bait, whatever it was that Iris was trying to tempt her with. “So how would a flood start in the house?”
“I’ve no idea.” Iris blew out a breath, giving Eleanor a measured look that she didn’t like. “Anyway, by the time the city guard turned up, the house was empty.”
“Ooh, I’ve heard about this. Everyone’s saying the Umbra got them,” Lucy said conspiratorially as she stuck her scarf-wrapped head out of her room.
The Umbra was a supposedly secret criminal gang in Solas.
Eleanor had tried to find them a while ago and had followed hints and breadcrumbs that’d led her into Breninsol.
Her shoulders curled as she shamefully realised that, since being indebted to The Ladies Grace, she’d completely forgotten her purpose for being in the capital.
Iris shrugged. “Not sure. They’re just gone. City guard’s looking for them last I heard.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t a coincidence? The fountain overflowed, and a raid happened?” Eleanor asked in a somewhat hopeful tone, as she pushed off the cold wall.
The explanation was too simple to be believable. Raids were a monthly occurrence in Breninsol that the City Guard executed for the sake of keeping the king’s peace. No one knew which property they’d strike, only that the guards would search a home and occasionally arrest someone.
“On the same night?” Iris replied.
“Stranger things have happened,” Eleanor said, before she shut herself in her room.
In a pathetic attempt to escape the world and drown the voices that swam in her head, she craved wine, not coffee.
She knew the extent of her drinking, the heavy reliance she'd built, yet the harsh reality remained a hidden truth she refused to acknowledge.
To survive the night without waking the entire house with her night terrors, she told herself that this was the only way she could possibly survive.
Don’t get involved with people, it’s safer for everyone. A more capable witch would have found the answer already.
It was all her fault.