"--Entertainment" Madam Selene had dragged the word, and I could see the exact moment she noticed the cut on my cheek because her eyes looked like they might bulge out of their sockets at any moment.

She got out of her chair and marched all the way over to me, stomping her feet, and I had to fight the urge to retreat.

Madame Selene grabbed my jaw and tilted my face to get a better look at what had to have been no more than a scratch. Still, she frowned.

"What is the second rule?" she asked me after giving my jaw a squeeze that conveyed her frustration.

"Presentation," I forced through my lips.

"And do you intend to attend to a guest with this blemish on your face?" She asked, her experienced eyes quickly scanning the rest of my face for any unruly marks. When there was nothing else of note, she released me from her grasp. "As a courtesan of the velvet pavilion, your body no longer belongs to you. It is no longer yours to disregard. You must protect it jealously."

What had she wanted me to do? Fight Sabine? I was working so hard to be accepted; fighting would have almost certainly had the opposite effect.

"Make no mistake, you were chosen by Lady Isolde for your looks alone," she continued with her lecture even as she retreated back to her chair. "We can teach you the skills and the information you need to succeed, but beauty cannot be taught beyond the paint."

Instead of sitting back down, however, she'd gestured for me to do so. As I hurriedly obeyed her instruction, having had my fill of confrontation for the day, she turned to begin lining up the various powders and pastes.

"It seems that is where we will have to begin," she'd said finally.

=^..^=

"No no, you're not a court jester; that is much too heavy." Madam Selene cautioned after I thought I'd been following her instructions. "It needs to be subtle enough that he doesn't even know it's there. Paint is meant to enhance your beauty, not cover it up. Wipe it off and start again."

And so I did, again and again.

"The kohl is for enhancement; it is not a mask," she'd stressed one time, which had told me I had once again been too heavy-handed.

"Smile. Apply the color where the cheek rounds. Now stop smiling. See how the color remains in the perfect place," she'd said at another time while watching me intently.

"No, that's quite enough for today," I eventually heard her say and breathed a sigh of relief. "Can't have you robbing us of our supply of paint."

Madam Selene went on to teach me what to make of my hair. She taught me how the hairstyle a courtesan chose spoke its own language.

"A chignon tells him you are composed, intelligent, and a challenge. it scares lesser men away." She explained its purpose while she gathered my hair into a bun at the nape.

"Leave two strands of hair to frame your face, and it tells a different story," she continued. "It suggests a sort of carelessness. To the guest, it might mean a welcome ease when his life turns difficult."

"An elaborate updo—" she mused as she effortlessly styled my hair into an intricate pattern and adorned it with jewels. "This is for the men that wish to spend the night with a queen, and that is what you must be for him. Flawless, perfect.

She gestured me over to the nearby mirror, and despite my sloppy work with the paint, even then I looked like a young woman several places above my true station. At worst, a rich man's daughter; at best, a princess.

"These tools, in addition to the velvet robe, will let you stand on equal footing with the lords who seek your presence." She spoke while I admired myself in the mirror.

"But the moment you take your first step forward, the illusion can be broken like that—" she'd snapped her fingers, causing me to jump. "Next, I will teach you how to walk."

=^..^=

I had been so engrossed in the lectures that I'd lost track of time. It wasn't until I began hearing voices echoing through the halls of the main wing, which had been perfectly quiet all this time, that I realized the hours must have passed by.

"It seems to be that time for you to have your baths," I'd heard Madam Selene say and had instinctively stopped to listen but was met with a scolding soon after.

"Keep walking!" She shot me a look that sent me back into action.

I'd already spent the better part of the last hour walking across the room with a heavy book on my head, but it seemed Madam Selene wasn't yet satisfied.

"I suppose it will be too much to ask for you to join your sisters in all their activities," she continued speaking, and having learned my lesson, I continued walking. "You will have 20 minutes after the others are finished with their baths to have yours."

After a pause, she continued, "That means you routinely be late in getting dressed, but it cannot be helped."

She returned to her work soon after, and I returned to pacing the room, trying desperately to keep the book level as I did.

"From tomorrow, I'll employ the help of your sisters to train you," she spoke without looking up from her work. "Cora has grown into an expert in expressions and gestures. She will make a good teacher."

After I had done a few more laps around the room, she lectured again, "You have very much to learn before you are ready. You must learn good etiquette and conversation for when you need to be more engaged, but also chess and backgammon for those other moments."

"Of course every courtesan must learn to dance." She finally looked up to study my form. "And if you have talent for it, you may learn the lute."

Just before I was about to turn once more to head back towards the door, I spotted her thinking to herself, "We could lean into your peculiarity and have you sing. Something to consider."

"No, I—" I rushed to speak, and as a result, the book fell from my head for the first time since she'd taught me how to walk with perfect balance. "Please don't make me sing."

If my goal was her undivided attention, I now had it.

"I'm sorry—" I'd started, then rushed to pick the book off the floor to continue training when she stopped me.

"No, I'm listening."

I squirmed, and then I prayed a silent prayer that I wasn't making a mistake.

"I don't like my voice," I told her, "and I don't want to just be a curiosity."

I don't know whether what Cressida said had gotten to me or if there was something else, but I suddenly knew what I wanted.

"I want to change my voice," I told her.

She didn't laugh or scold. She only seriously considered it. It helped to make me feel like what I'd said hadn't been so ridiculous after all.

"I will admit I am not fond of the idea of presenting an oddity to our guests. We are not a travelling circus," she agreed, "but we are not magicians either to change a man's voice into a woman's."

'Of course not.' I thought quietly to myself with a discernible tinge of disappointment present.

"There are techniques, however, to help a woman reach higher notes when singing, and we won't know until we try," she reasoned. "Carry on training with your sisters. Let me think on this for some time."

"Yes, madam."

=^..^=

As ordered by Madam Selene, I was to continue practicing my walk and was only freed when the girls began filing into the dressing rooms.

I had to ignore their little glances and whispers in my direction as they began preparing one another for the night ahead.

I began to wonder when that would stop. When my presence would be normal enough to not warrant such attention.

"You can go and have your bath now, Rowen." It had been a moment of relief when the words finally came. "Then hurry back here and get dressed. I want you observing again tonight."

It was becoming something of a trademark for me, but really, when Madam Selene gave an instruction, there was only one thing to say.

"Yes, Madam."

=^..^=

"When you do it this way, the line along your lash should be a subtle shadow," Madam Selene continued her lesson even now as she prepared me for the night. Even if I were to be just an observer again tonight, she'd emphasize the importance of looking my best regardless.

She fussed over my hair and then the velvet robe, and once again, the girl from the previous night emerged.

And just as we had the night before, I walked sheepishly beside Madam Selene into the presence of the guests.

I hoped they were just being captivated by the novelty of my presence because I had no other explanation for why their gazes seemed so fixated on me as we passed.

"I think it will be a good idea to show you what else remains of the Velvet Pavilion," she spoke softly while occasionally turning to nod and smile at several patrons. "Through here you will find the pleasure pools. The first of our intimate spaces," she gestured to the door at the end of a hall but made no attempt to walk through it.

"The second and the most intimate space is the hall of doors," she continued even without giving me a moment to consider what was meant by 'pleasure pools'.

I followed closely behind as she led me up those winding stairs for the first time. Like it usually was with the velvet robe, it was a decidedly new experience walking up a flight of stairs with my legs peeking through with each step.

I had cast my gaze up to the very top of those steps, and there he was, looking down at me. That was where I met him for the first time.

He was young. Older than I was, granted, but much younger than most other guests in the pavilion. He had the most piercing green eyes and a sharp jaw that was accentuated by my lower vantage point.

We were taller than average with broad shoulders that reminded me of Orin's. But Orin had had a certain roughness that was entirely absent from this man's performance. Every strand of his black hair was held perfectly in place as though he had received a similar lesson from Madam Selene.

"My Lord," Madam Selene settled into a deep curtsy that I tried to imitate as best as I could, "we hadn't expected to see you here tonight."

"By design," he said simply. His voice held an air of confidence that told me he was used to being obeyed and perhaps even feared.

"I notice you are not being attended to. Please allow me to apologize," she spoke in a bit of a hurry. "Sybil must not be aware of your presence. I will get her prepared for you right away."

"No need." His gaze had shifted from Madam Selene over to me for a moment, long enough for him to catch me staring. "I was the one that sent her away. I don't intend to stay long."

"Well, if there is anything we can do—"

"I will find one of your lovely girls," he smiled.

"If you'll excuse us," Madam Selene curtsied once more, and I quickly followed her lead.

Against my better judgement, I glanced up at him as we passed, and my eyes met his. I'd quickly averted my gaze, but not nearly quick enough. Even while I followed Madam Selene towards the hall of doors, I could still feel his eyes on me.

"You will want to avoid that one," she whispered to me when we were out of earshot. "A year's training and you still wouldn't be equipped to attend to such a man."

"Who is he?" I asked without thinking.

Madam Selene paused as if debating whether to tell me or not.

"The King's spymaster," she said. "That much of his identity isn't a secret, but secrets are a thing he has no shortage of."

My attention was only drawn away from the enigmatic man I'd just met by the subtle sounds coming from the many doors around me.

Through some doors, laughter bled through innocently enough. Through others, the sounds were more intimate.

"The girls call it the upper floor," Madame Selene explained.

My eyes shifted from one similarly styled door to the other. My imagination ran wild thinking about what might have been happening behind each door.

"You can have the most riveting conversation with a man, or charm him with your song and dance," Madame Selene turned to face me, "but sometimes they only want one thing. And you need to be ready when the time comes."

=^..^=

"When it's time for you to join your sisters on the floor, this is where you'll begin." Madam Selene told me after we returned to the lower floor and were now making our way into the wine room. "I'd like you to leave here to continue observing."

Unlike the previous night, where the guests had carried on with minimal attendance, content with only drink and intellectual conversation with their fellows, tonight many of them had on their arms beautiful courtesans.

Despite the proximity, the women still seemed to have no more than a decorative role, relegated to only pouring drinks or, on some occasions, chiming in with a nod.

My eyes found Poppy sitting pretty on a plush divan at the edge of the room alongside another girl I hadn't met yet or simply hadn't noticed at breakfast.

Both girls noticed our approach and stood to show a small bow. "Good evening, Madam," they chorused.

"Hello girls," Madame Selene smiled. "Poppy, I trust you weren't late today." She turned to the now blushing girl.

"No, madam."

"Ione, I'd like Rowen here to observe tonight." Madam Selene turned to the other girl. "You've done such a wonderful job with Poppy here; I thought you could handle another."

"I can."

"And I trust you'll take care of her." Madam Selene said intently and let out a satisfied smile when Ione nodded. "Good. Rowen, I expect you in the dressing room right after breakfast tomorrow."

"OK, madam."

"Good work, girls."

=^..^=

"Rowen, you're so pretty." Poppy exclaimed as soon as we were left alone and I had taken a seat on the divan beside her, "I can't believe you're actually a boy."

"Shh," Ione had quickly shushed her. "Be seen but not heard."

"Sorry," she apologized and quickly followed that with a giggle in my direction.

"Stop fidgeting with your sleeves." Ione reached across Poppy and slapped my hand. In my defense, I hadn't even noticed I'd been doing it. "God, you're acting like a nervous child."

In response, I'd folded my fingers into themselves and assumed a rigid posture. She wasn't done, however, because almost immediately after, she reached over and pulled my shoulders back.

"Don't slouch like a boy," Ione frowned. "Look at Elodie," she gestured to a black-haired courtesan who was sitting effortlessly beside one of the guests. She seemed comfortable by his side, and in turn, that got him to open up just a bit more.

The truth was I saw no path forward to becoming that person. But I could never say as much. I had to maintain the possibility long enough until I was in a position to inquire about Orin.

"Rowen," I heard Ione call out to me. I'd quickly turned to find her gesturing to one of the tables. "It seems a guest would like more wine."

"Madam Selene said she should only observe," Poppy tried to caution.

"And 'he' will never learn anything by just sitting there," Ione countered. "Come on, it's just replacing a pitcher. If you can't even manage that without training, maybe you don't have what it takes to be here."

"But—" Poppy had wanted to argue, but I chimed in instead.

"I can do it."

I would need to ascend among these courtesans to ever hope to gain information about where Orin might be, and for that, I would need to be accepted by these girls, even if it meant playing these games.

"Okay then," Ione smiled, "There's a full pitcher right over there."

=^..^=

It turned out to be easier said than done. Not that I'd been expecting any less.

I'd placed the new pitcher on the table and gone to retrieve the old one when one of the two men at the table had asked me to fill his cup. Something he'd been quite able to do on his own up until that moment.

Still, I obeyed. I had leaned in to fill his cup when he'd unexpectedly closed the already short distance between us, sniffed my hair, and exhaled heartily.

I will admit to having been caught off guard, but I'd also expertly managed to have almost no reaction to his move, save for a small awkward smile in his direction as I continued filling his cup.

As soon as I was through, I'd gone to retrieve the old pitcher when the man went a step ahead and wrapped an arm around my waist.

I did try not to squirm, but how could I not?

The other man, the one who wasn't pressing himself against me at the moment, was the first one to speak. "Sir, I hate to interrupt, but we need to figure out what to do about—" he paused, "the contact."

"What's your name, doll?" The one with all his attention on me asked.

"Uh-- Rowen, sir."

"Rowen." He said my name like he was letting it marinate on his tongue. "I will remember it," he'd said just before freeing me from his grasp but not before letting his hand rub my backside during its retreat"

I could only bow and make my own retreat as quickly as I could manage.

On the bright side, Ione seemed pleased.

=^..^=

I plopped down on my bed at the end of the night, with Poppy doing the same a few moments afterwards.

"I guess it's just us three tonight," Anya noted as she walked through the door a few minutes after us.

As she headed for bed on the far side of the room, Poppy and I exchanged knowing glances.

I knew most of the girls sought to be chosen by the guests, or better yet, be frequented. For the workers, it meant more money sent back to their families. For the slaves, it meant status, and status meant better treatment.

I understood that this was a happy outcome for Cressida, Bria, and Laura, and I was to treat it as such, so why did I only ever feel awkward on nights when any of the girls were missing?

There were nights when all six of us slept in our rooms together, but for the most part, on most nights any combination of the other girls except Poppy and I would be missing.

I couldn't say for sure, but I think Poppy was also nervous about the day it would be our turn.

When she was eventually moved out of the wine room, we knew it would only be a matter of time.

As the days passed, Poppy progressed through the stages to become a full-fledged courtesan like the others. And with each passing day, so did I.

In my case, it was some training or another, often conducted by one of the other more established courtesans or Madam Selene herself.

Cora was one such courtesan Madam Selene had chosen to take one of the lessons.

"Your face is a mask," she'd explained as we sat together on my bed right after breakfast that second day. "You don't have to believe every expression on your face when you attend to a man. You only have to make him believe it."

To demonstrate, she leaned in suggestively like she would with a guest. "Go on, tell me something vile."

I shrugged in response, unsure of where she was heading with this.

"Tell me, you're going to kill me at the end of the night."

I was a bit taken aback by what she was saying, but I'd ultimately said the words as she'd wanted me to.

I watched her smile eagerly in response as though she wouldn't have minded one bit if I did do it.

"Of course, a big part of being in total control over your face and body comes with experience," she said as she leaned back. "For now I'll show you how to not be so obvious."

=^..^=

When it came time to learn about proper posture and how to walk in a manner that captivates, that time, my teacher was Elodie.

"Shoulders back," she guided. "It helps to imagine a string pulling you back from the back of your head."

Over the next few weeks and months, I learned as best as I could while simultaneously casting my net for help in getting any information about Orin's whereabouts.

"Never share your true opinions on any subject," Another courtesan named Mira explained the art of conversations: "If you want him to keep coming back, you must echo his own opinions on any subject he finds interesting-- within reason of course."

Sabine, believe it or not, had slowly begun teaching me to play the lute, and Thisbe, the consort with the snakelike features, taught me how she danced.

I was under no impression that their impressions of me had changed since I first arrived, especially since I'd taken no particular strides to endear myself to them.

I'd been different too at the orphanage, and no matter how hard I'd tried, I had never managed to get through to the other children back then. I had no confidence that here would be any different. I could only be grateful that most of the girls were being civil at least, even if it was only at Madam Selene's instruction.

As you'd expect, most of the sessions only went as far as instructed. However, in the case of Anya, who was tasked with teaching me to play chess and backgammon, she genuinely seemed to enjoy those sessions.

In one of them, I'd taken the opportunity to tell her the circumstances around Orin and inquire as to where he might be.

"If Lady Isolde bought him, he's likely working in the stables," she'd helpfully explained just before making her move on the board.

"The stables?" I'd half thoughtfully replied while trying my best to remember how all my pieces on the board moved.

"You see, the pavilion gets a lot of guests in carriages and on horseback," she explained. "These horses need to be taken care of while their masters are in here with us. So—" she moved one of her knights and smiled, seemingly pleased with herself—"it"'s natural that there'd be a need for a lot of stable hands."

"Where are the stables?" I asked while pondering my next move.

"It's not far, but it's outside the fence, so I don't think you'll ever see it," she replied. When I touched one of my pieces during my turn, she chimed in, "Are you sure you want to make that move?"

I wasn't able to see whatever she was seeing, so I sat back to think a bit.

"I suppose a guest could request to take you out of here for a night, and that would get you to the stables, but I wouldn't hold my breath," she told me. "That is such a rare occurrence; I've only ever seen it happen one time."

In the end, I couldn't plot a path forward in either the chess match or in my quest for Orin. I had new information, which I was grateful for, but with Haskel keeping us locked in here, it seemed like another dead end.

So imagine my surprise when the events that transpired naturally led me right to him.

=^..^=