Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The girl with the hazel eyes
Sapphire
The coal pencil stub felt awkward between my fingers as I lined my eyes. I thought I’d be used to it considering it was the size of the cinderleaf cigarettes I smoked.
Damn the stars—I could really use one right now.
Anything to numb the deep ache that took up residence in my chest. Perhaps I’d roll one before I went down to the floor. Kavish loathed it when we reeked of sweat, smoke, or liquor—when we smelled like men. He wanted us fresh as a wildflower meadow at spring’s first light.
No, cinderleaf would taint the scent of the jasmine oil I’d dabbed on my wrist and behind my ears earlier.
I’d have to wait until after tonight's festivities.
A resilient sigh escaped my lips as I pinned the last of my blue curls into place.
Tonight, I needed to catch the eyes of men—to gleam like the sapphire they claimed I was.
If I looked the part, I’d attract the richest of them. Ones whose pockets were lined so heavy they needed scaffolding to hold them upright. Too many days I’d gone without coin, too many days further from my dream. I wouldn’t let it happen again. I couldn’t.
Kavish had made it clear to all of us this morning just how important tonight was—for him, and for the Silver Finch.
I didn’t know why. It wasn’t the first party of its kind.
About once a month he’d throw them. Free entry to his palace, inviting wealthy Shadowkin to drink his liquor and fuck his whores.
For me, it was a means to an end. These were the nights that filled my purse with coin more than any other.
If I played my cards right, I could service up to six men—depending on how long each one paid for my time. These parties were a game for most of the girls. Some would take as many men as they could, whereas I preferred to seek out the richest and service less.
Not that it always worked out for me.
I stood from my dresser, drifting towards my wardrobe.
Thankfully the welts on my ass and legs were no longer painful—almost fully healed.
Rusty hinges creaked as I pulled the doors open.
My fingers grazed over the silk dresses.
Some of them I’d made myself—my mother had taught me how to sew—others were hand-me-downs from other girls.
I scrunched my nose. All of them reeked of bad memories, ones I’d rather forget.
The burnt-orange silk in the corner of the wardrobe caught my eye.
The colour had me perplexed—slightly charmed even, but still wary nonetheless.
A memory surfaced—coarse strands of a male’s hair, dipped in the gold of sunburnt skies.
The male with the curt questions and green eyes that lingered too long.
Whoever he was, I wished he would stop showing up.
It didn't matter if his smile was addictive, or his voice was like velvet to my ears. His well dressed attire—obviously not from around these parts—was going to get me in further trouble. Which I certainly didn’t need.
If he was a man of great fortune, perhaps he’d find his way here eventually. I’d have no choice but to sell him what he so desperately desired—my body.
Pale blue taffeta wrinkled under my touch as I pulled the dress from its hanger.
It wasn’t my favourite, but it was Kavish’s.
And if he was pleased with me tonight, then maybe his focus would turn to the other girls for once.
And I didn’t want to wear the other, that one reminded me too much of copper strands.
The fabric fused to my skin as I tugged the laces on the corset tighter around my waist. I used to feel trapped like a bird in a cage, but over time I got used to the pain of my ribs crushing inwards, and the shortness of breath that tarried alongside it.
Full breasts spilled from the bodice of my gown, drawing attention to my chest. Exactly where I needed it to be.
I’d do what I could to make my dream . . . mine. Only a few more months of saving and then I would disappear. No one but Meeka would know I’d gone, and no one but her would know where I went.
I reached for the small glass pot of rose-infused lip balm Meeka had made for me a few weeks ago. She was always trying out new scents, and giving them to me from time to time. After applying some, I took a step back, admiring my appearance before focussing on my eyes.
Blue like dusk just before the dark swallows it—holding the light I kept trying to bury.
Her father’s eyes—or so mother used to whisper, like that was supposed to mean something good.
I didn’t know who my father was. The bastard took off the day mother told him about me.
Worthless piece of shit. Sometimes I pretended it never mattered, but that was just another lie I told myself when the nights ran too long.
He left her with nothing—no coin, no name, no promise.
Just me, curled in her womb while she stitched other people’s happiness into fine silks we could never afford.
If he’d stayed . . . maybe she wouldn’t have had to open our door to men who paid in hush and hungry stares.
Maybe she’d have lived longer—or better—instead of working her hands raw, smelling of sweat and rosewater to cover the shame.
I’d like to say I didn’t think of him at all, but every time I looked in the mirror, I saw the part of him that lives in me.
A gentle knock sounded at my door, snapping me out of my trance. Heat washed over my body in a wave. Please don’t let it be Kavish. I had to deal with him at some point this evening, but I’d prefer to have my cinderleaf first.
Worn brass sent a chill up my skin as I grasped the knob, pulling the wooden door open. My shoulders dropped, tension leaving my body when I found Lily on the other side.
Her hazel eyes were filled with unease. “I know you’re getting ready, but would you mind mending this tear for me?”
She gently tugged the gown where the skirt met the bodice, showing the rip. It was quite common for the girls to come to me when they needed something mended. Not everyone here had a mother like mine.
“Come in,” I motioned to her.
Lily moved past me, her rose pink gown swishing gently on the floor. “Thank you, Sapphire.”
I offered her a gentle smile as I moved to my nightstand in the corner of the room beside the window. Opening a small wooden drawer, I pulled out a round tin I kept my sewing items in. A needle and some thread would do it.
We didn’t have a lot of time. Kavish would make his rounds soon, checking to ensure all his girls were ready. He’d find me perfectly painted to his standards. Then there’d be no reason for him to find fault in me.
“I’m hoping to make at least twenty gold tonight. There is a dress down at Mable’s that I’ve been wanting.” Lily smoothed her hands over her waist. “Then I wouldn’t have to wear this old thing all the time.”
With the ease of practice, I began to stitch the small tear in her skirt. “This is such a pretty colour on you, Lil.”
A slight smile draped across her rose bud lips. “The men seem to agree.”
She was the only female at the Silver Finch that I had some sort of a connection with. The rest of the girls paraded around as if they had a broom stick up their arse. They hated me because I was Kavish’s favourite—a thought that twisted my gut every time it arose.
Lily was different though. She was sunshine in a place that darkened her like storm clouds, and she certainly didn’t belong here.
I finished mending the rip, knotted the thread, and broke it off. “Your walnut hair suits most colours.”
She viewed the tear, her eyes dancing before coming to rest on me. “Maybe so, but it doesn't compare to your cerulean strands.”
The wooden floor creaked, announcing a figure. Heat washed over me, pooling in my stomach as I looked up. Kavish. Well dressed, as per usual. His shiny black shoes complimented his tailored brown suit. I feigned a smile as his gaze dragged over my appearance.
“Lily, save the sweet talk for paying customers—get ready,” he ordered, his voice smooth, yet quietly demanding.
Lily threw me a glance before turning for the door. “Yes, Kavish.”
“Be careful tonight,” I called after her.
Kavish sauntered into my room, both hands shoved into his trouser pockets. “You look ravishing, Sapphire.”
I placed my hands behind my back, swishing the skirts of my gown against the floor. “As per your request.”
He approached, drawing a hand from his pocket to tip my chin towards his face.
His eyes drank me in. He leaned in—too close, too warm—and my skin crawled under the silk of my dress.
I buried it deep. Smiled instead. Tilted my head, let my eyes go soft like I’d practiced.
It was always better to look willing than to show them they’d won.
Last time we were this close—well I’d rather not think about it.
His thumb dragged across my bottom lip. “Let’s try our best to behave tonight, shall we? Show those men just how persuasive you can be, and remember . . . you are The Night Jewel. Make the men bleed money for me.”
I nodded, if only just. It might be partially his money, but it was also mine, and I’d make damn sure to account for every coin owed to me tonight.
Kavish held the crook of his arm out for me to take. I looked up at him, fluttering my lashes long enough to make him believe that I was enamoured by his presence.
Then I took his elbow, offering a fake smile I swore one day I'd never wear again. “Lead the way.”
~~~~~
The floor reeked of sweat and spilled wine, desperation clawing in vain beneath a mask of perfume. Sconces flickered from the wall overhead, casting gold over painted faces and powdered breasts. I’d been working the room for an hour, maybe more—time tended to smear together in a place like this.
I leaned into a man’s touch, let his fingers graze my waist as I whispered something low and sweet in his ear. “You smell like trouble . . . I like trouble.”