I remember the day we first met. He'd walked through the doors of the orphanage half shrouded behind a tall woman I would never see again. It had been difficult to make out his face in the dimly lit hallway, but I could tell he was terrified of everything around him. Then again, who wouldn't be?
 
Unlike him, my first memories had been of this place. I imagine I would have been just as terrified of these rundown walls in his shoes. For me, this was home, and even back then at the tender age of 7, I knew they would be home for him too.
 
No child ever came through those doors unless they were here to stay. And few of us ever left.
 
Our eyes had met just before he disappeared through the doors of the matron's office. It wouldn't be the last time we would lock eyes.
 
It wouldn't be very long until we'd meet again. Just after breakfast the following day, I found him sitting on the old swing staring out into the wilderness. Out in the early sun, his shaggy light brown hair had the most gorgeous tint.
 
I'm sure to everyone else he must have seemed intimidating and closed off, but to me, he just seemed scared and vulnerable. It seemed like he needed a friend.
 
I'd made my way towards him and had stopped dead in my tracks when I noticed a nasty bruise peeking slightly over his collar. I thought it looked like he might have been trembling.
 
I'd steeled my resolve, taken one last step forward, and called out to him, "Hello," I'd said.
 
He'd almost fallen out of the swing with how quickly he'd jerked to action and turned to face me. I watched him study me carefully and cautiously, almost as though he was waiting for me to make a move.
 
So I did. I outstretched my hand like I'd seen the adults do when they greeted one another.
 
"Hello," I repeated, "I'm Rowen."
 
He looked at my outstretched hand with suspicion as though it would bite if he wasn't careful. I didn't get his name or so much as a word from him on that occasion. In fact, it had taken several tries to get him to say a single word to me or anyone else for that matter.
 
By the time we'd both turned 12, it was hard to believe that Orin was the same boy who had been afraid of his own shadow when he first arrived. Where once he had been timid, he was now the brave one between the two of us.
 
He was the one with the daring plans that often got us in trouble, and even then, he was the charming one that often got us out of it.
 
And on those unfortunate occasions that typified my later years at the orphanage, he was the one that protected me.
 
"They only pick on you because you act like a girl," he'd told me one afternoon after my hair had been yanked so hard it had sent me flying backward into the dirt.
 
"No, I don't!" I'd argued sharply.
 
"Well, you look like one," he'd muttered under his breath just loud enough for me to hear.
 
"I can't control how I look," I muttered in response.
 
He turned to me with a frustrated look. "Just cut your hair then. Only girls have hair like that."
 
I backed away defensively as though Orin would cut my hair when I wasn't paying attention. Of course I knew he wouldn't do that. He would force me to climb a tree or jump in the lake, but never to cut my hair.
 
My reaction told him there wasn't a chance in hell I would ever do that, so he sighed in resignation.
 
"At least learn how to fight," he pivoted, "They wouldn't mess with you if you fought back."
 
I shook my head, and that was all it took for him to drop it. He knew I wasn't like him in that way. I couldn't punch people or kick them like he could. Not that I was judging him or anything. I envied him.
 
I knew he'd been secretly practicing how to use a sword out in the forest when no one was looking. I often wished I had the courage to join him so I wouldn't have to rely on him all the time like I did.
 
Not that he minded.
 
"I'll protect you, so don't worry," he'd said to me that afternoon, and that's exactly what he'd done since. So much so that it painted an even bigger target on my back.
 
It certainly didn't help that even as we approached our 17th year, he and the other boys had long since bulked up with age enough to take up manly work in their various apprenticeships in town to help the orphanage, I had unfortunately remained slight and oddly pretty.
At my age, it was becoming a real concern that I would remain like this.
 
Still, despite our growing differences, Orin remained my friend and never failed to keep his promise.
 
He'd shared the secret of his training sessions with me as we grew more inseparable, and on days like today, I would spend them perched beneath a tree watching him as he trained with a stick he'd shaped to resemble a sword.
 
Today I watched quietly while shaded from the afternoon sun. He needed no such protection, content to sweat away with each swing of his pretend sword.
 
He caught me stifling a laugh after he grunted loudly following a particularly forceful strike at the defenseless air.
 
"What's so funny?" he turned to look at me and I got a better look at his sweat-covered body, the outline of which was perfectly visible through his soaked clothes I would likely help him wash later; One of the few ways I could show my gratitude to him for always being there.
 
"Nothing," I smiled.
 
"What, you think this is easy?"
 
"Oh no, quite the contrary," I replied, "You just seem so serious swinging that stick around."
 
"This--" he gestured at the sturdy piece of wood in his hands, "This is a perfectly crafted blade capable of cutting a man clean in half."
 
"Oh? I didn't know it was so dangerous."
 
"It is indeed. Now that you realize your grave error--" he pointed the stick right at me, "apologize."
 
I bowed playfully in response, "Oh kind sir, I am so very sorry for offending your great big stick, sir. Do forgive me?"
 
"Aha, I see you still need to be taught a lesson," he said as he let the stick fall to the floor. "Come here then."
 
I shrieked when I saw him begin his chase, hurried to my feet, and ran, "Stop, stay away!"
 
I only ran a few paces away before deciding to resort to the tried and true strategy of circling a tree. I was under no illusions that I could outrun him. Maybe when we were 7 I might have managed it, but not now.
 
We circled a few times before I quickly admitted defeat. "I'll apologize, I'll apologize," I pleaded. Anything for him to keep all that sweat to himself.
 
"It's too late for that," he laughed.
 
In a brief moment where I wasn't paying attention, he lunged around the tree and grabbed my wrist, pulling me out of cover. I screamed as though a woodland beast had seized me in its clutches.
 
Orin pulled me into a sweaty hug, lifting me clear off the ground and sealing the fact that I would be washing two pairs of clothes instead of one. The moment that realization passed, a far more sinister one reared its head.
 
It dawned on me just how tiny I felt pressed against him like that. It felt awkward and wrong.
 
With more force than I intended, I pushed away from him. He must have felt a shift because he quickly let go of me and apologized.
 
"It's okay. I'm sorry." I apologized too: "That was weird."
 
He shook his head.
 
"Let's head back." I tried changing the subject. "I have to get out of these clothes now thanks to you."
 
"Not yet," he replied. "Come on, I want to show you something."
 
"Okay."
 
We walked, chattering about something or another, until we arrived at a seemingly unimpressive spot. After making sure the surroundings were clear, I watched Orin clear up a pile of leaves and dig up what, no matter how I looked at it, looked like an actual sword.
 
Not the fake one I'd seen him practice with for months; no, this was the real deal.
 
"Where did you get that?" I quickly scurried closer and whispered.
 
"I didn't steal it if that's what you're worried about," he replied.
 
"No, I know that. I'm just surprised."
 
"I've been saving up some of the money I made," he explained. "Rowen, we can't stay in the orphanage forever."
 
"What are you planning?" I asked with a hint of worry on my face.
 
"Let's leave," he told me. "We can pack our bags and go to the city. We can start afresh."
 
I looked at him like he'd just said the most ridiculous thing in the world, "You're joking. That's crazy. We can't leave, you know that. We're under obligation."
 
We owed a lot to the matron and her sisters for taking care of us all these years, and some of what we owed was mandated by law.
 
"Who cares about that?" He quickly dismissed my concerns: "How long are we going to be tied to this place?"
 
"But we can't just--"
 
"Think about it," he pressed, "I could find work as a guard, or a soldier, or something, and maybe we could find something for you too. Between the two of us, I'm sure we could make enough to get by."
 
"Why can't we just stay here?" I asked him, "It's not so bad here, is it?"
 
"It's not but--"
 
"Then why?" I asked him. "You're saying we should run away from everyone we know."
 
"Rowen, I want more from life, don't you? Are you satisfied just being a couple of orphans out in the wilderness?" he asked me. He looked tense, as though this has been weighing on him for a while. How long had he been planning this?
 
"How are we even going to get to the city?" I asked him, "I don't suppose you saved enough to buy a horse too?"
 
"Of course not," he said as he buried the sword back beneath the brush enough that it was unnoticeable unless you were looking for it. "We'll make our way to the next town and figure things out from there."
 
"I don't know—" I started to say, but he interrupted me.
 
"Listen, I'm leaving." He told me plainly while our eyes met like they had on that first day, "I really, really want you to come with me."
 
He looked so earnest and sincere, and I could tell he meant every word. And deep down, I knew that there was nothing here for me without him, so there was really only ever one thing to say.
 
"What's the plan?"
 
He smiled. "Just pack a few things and try not to draw any attention," he explained, "and don't fall asleep tonight."
 
"Tonight? We're leaving tonight?" I asked.
 
"Why wait?" he asked. "Remember, be ready."
 
I couldn't have known it at the time, but that decision would turn my life upside down in all the worst ways.
 
=^..^=
 
Orin and I made our escape like thieves in the night, carrying only what little we owned. He abandoned his apprenticeship, and I, all the tasks I'd been assigned. Come morning, there would be a search, but we would be nowhere to be found.
 
It wouldn't be long until there would be notices of our disappearance, but two runaway kids wouldn't be very high on the priority list, so they were unlikely to come looking for us. Or atleast that's what Orin had said to convince me.
 
"Do you even know where we're going?" I asked him while fighting off the first signs of a shiver not even an hour into the walking. I'd worn a second tunic underneath for warmth since neither of us owned any fur coats, but that didn't seem to be helping much.
 
"We'll worry about that in the morning," he replied without slowing down. "We just need to put as much distance between us and that place as possible."
 
'That place.' I wondered whether I was the only one that had found the orphanage bearable. Had it been so terrible for him? Maybe I'd had an easier time of it because that place was all I'd ever known.
 
Orin had always refused to talk about his life before the orphanage. And I certainly knew better than to pry. I'd seen the scars.
 
"Keep up," I heard him call out in response to my slowing pace.
 
"I'm trying," I replied. Unlike him, this was already the farthest I'd ever been from home.
 
I let out a deep sigh as I hurried to catch up with him. If I had to guess, it was only around midnight at that point. There were still six hours or so until sunrise.
 
I had to shake away the despair and steel myself for the journey ahead.
 
I fixed my gaze on the moon in the night sky even as it disappeared behind the trees and came into view a moment later. Anything to keep my mind off the discomfort I was feeling.
 
When that didn't work, I counted the seconds to distract from my ailing feet and the cold that was becoming unbearable.
 
The time passed with the two of us walking in silence, with each step making it farther and farther away from home.
 
"I think we've made it far enough," I heard Orin say after a while. I looked up to find an expression on his face that told me he was worried about my condition. "Let's stop here for tonight. I'll get a fire going."
 
"Is that a good idea?" I asked him while making my way over to rest beneath a nearby tree.
 
He only nodded, which didn't do much to convince me.
 
As my only friend set out to gather suitable wood to make a fire, I brought my fingers to my lips and blew. I was thankful, at least, that we'd done this at a warmer time of year.
 
I had wondered briefly whether we were doing the right thing. In a few years, would we look back and be happy we'd made the decision, or would we regret it?
 
I shook my head to get rid of the thought. I had to trust Orin.
 
No, I was sure I did trust him, so why couldn't I get rid of the looming sense of dread no matter how hard I tried?
 
=^..^=
 
It didn't take long for him to get the fire started and hurry me over. I looked at him admiringly as the newfound warmth washed over me.
 
"What?" he asked with a smile.
 
"You're so dependable," I told him. "Me on the other hand—" I turned my gaze to the crackling flames below.
 
"Shut up," he said as he perched next to me. He dug into his napsack and uprooted a piece of saved bread from dinner, "Eat" he said out stretching it towards me.
 
"I'm not hungry."
 
"It'll warm you up," he impatiently shoved it in my hand.
 
"Thanks." I reluctantly took a bite before cutting it in half and handing him the other piece without saying anything else.
 
As we ate the bread in silence, I couldn't help but note that it was the least talkative we'd ever been. I thought maybe he was just as tense as I was; he just knew how to hide it better.
 
"Do you think anyone has noticed we're gone yet?" I asked him.
 
"I doubt it," he replied. "It'll likely be till morning before anyone starts looking for us. Just think, Rowen, in a few weeks, we'll be starting our new lives in the city."
 
I watched his expression closely, illuminated by the light from the flames. His eyes shone with hope that had been entirely absent from the eyes of the boy I'd met a decade ago.
 
"I'm going to get a job as a guard with the city, and we'll make good money to be able to buy things and own them for once." He said excitedly, "Is there anything you'd like? I'll be able to afford it soon."
 
"Right now, I think I'll settle for a warm coat," I confessed while trying to get my trembling fingers under control.
 
"Are you still cold?" he noticed and reached out to touch my hand. I pulled them away. The last thing I wanted was for my hands to get swallowed up by his, another reminder of what I lacked.
 
"I'm fine," I said hurriedly before changing the subject. "I'll get a job too, you know? It won't all be on you."
 
"I know that," he said finally as his hand retreated. "We should get some rest. We have a lot of walking ahead."
 
I didn't argue. I shuffled even closer to the fire before lying on my side next to it. A few moments later, Orin lay down next to me.
 
"For warmth," I heard him say quietly.
 
I didn't respond. I turned my attention to the day that was to come and to Orin's vision of our future. I had to admit I enjoyed the thought of it.
 
Being an orphan, you don't get a lot of opportunities to think fondly about your future. Orin had given me that at least.
 
As I drifted off to sleep, I held it deep in my heart that I had to be of more help to him, just as he'd been for me.
 
=^..^=
 
I was awakened by the sound of footsteps and crunching leaves. It sounded close, too close. I quickly opened my eyes and took in as much information as I could.
 
It was very early morning. The fire was out, leaving only a trail of smoke rising into the air. The footsteps were getting closer.
 
I quickly repositioned Orin's arm, which was draped over me, and sat up.
 
I gasped as soon as my gaze fell upon the several approaching, armed men.
 
I shoved Orin as hard as I could to get him up. He sat up quickly enough, made one pass over our surroundings before reaching for the sword I hadn't noticed last night.
 
He got up to his feet quickly before unsheathing the blade and pointing it at the still approaching men. Following his lead, I quickly rushed to my feet before Orin promptly pulled me behind him.
 
He kept the sword held firmly in their direction while we slowly retreated. A quick glance told me there were 7 of them. No matter how much he'd been practicing, it was clear he stood no chance.
 
We'd have to find a way to run somehow.
 
"Careful, lads, we got ourselves a lone swordsman," one of the men spoke giddily. He was a thinner man than the others with greasy hair and a rough beard to boot. Like many of the others, he was clad mostly in wool and leather, and the dark color of his garments seemed intentional.
 
He joyfully unsheathed his blade, and the sound of 6 other men doing the same made my heart sink.
 
"Orin, no." I reached out and grabbed my friend's arm, who stared down our foes unfazed. I grew more and more concerned about the determined look on his face. It was as though he didn't realize he could die. Or didn't care.
 
"Stay back," he told me without taking his eyes off the men that I assumed were bandits, local outlaws.
 
"Please, we don't have much; you can take whatever you want," I pleaded.
 
The one that had spoken earlier licked his lips while looking in our direction. "And here I thought our luck was beginning to run out."
 
I glanced back at Orin, who was now holding his sword with both hands and getting into a ready stance.
 
"Please, just let us--" I'd heard a twig snap behind us, and just as I was getting ready to turn, I was grabbed from behind and pulled away from Orin. I struggled to get free to no avail.
 
Orin quickly turned his blade to my captor but was dissuaded by a short dagger placed near my throat. I swallowed hard and suddenly found it hard to breathe.
 
The one who held me captive clicked his tongue three times before ordering, "Drop it, boy."
 
I was so afraid I couldn't think. My heart beat faster than it ever had as I stood frozen in shock.
 
Orin, sensing there was little else he could do, threw his sword into the dirt.
 
"Good," The one from earlier spoke again. Following a subtle gesture from him, one of the others walked forward and retrieved Orin's sword before forcing him down to his knees.
 
The jolly one that seemed like the leader of this troupe walked up confidently and began searching through the packs that held all that we owned in this world.
 
I heard him sigh loudly in disappointment, "What are you, some runaways?"
 
Neither Orin nor I answered.
 
"Let her go; you're scaring the poor girl," he ordered, and a second later, the shiny dagger retreated away from my neck.
 
Despite that, my legs gave way, and I dropped to my knees. I glanced over at Orin, who remained defiant in his expression but was now unarmed and defeated.
 
"You know these parts aren't safe," the leader helpfully said, "especially for one such as yourself. Dressing yourself as a man does little to change that."
 
It wasn't the first time I'd been mistaken for a young girl, and it likely wouldn't be the last. The question was whether I should correct them or not. It shamed me to think of using what I hated to my advantage, but I had few other cards to play at the moment.
 
"Please let us go, sir." I begged in a slightly softer voice than usual, "You've seen for yourself that we have nothing of value."
 
"That's not true, is it?" he chuckled as he walked closer to me. He placed a finger beneath my chin and tilted my head so our gazes met. "You are very valuable. Both of you," he turned to gesture to Orin as well.
 
"What--" I began to speak, but he raised a finger to stop me.
 
"Tie them up," he said to his men before turning to walk away. I trembled even at the sound of the men sheathing their swords.
 
Everything was going terribly wrong; anyone could see that. I didn't want to die. I didn't want Orin to die. All we'd sought out was a better life, but if I knew this was going to happen, I would have gladly remained at the orphanage.
 
As my hands were bound, I couldn't help but feel angry at Orin for having caused this. He couldn't just leave well enough alone, and now look.
 
There was also anger there directed at myself. I knew if Orin had been alone, he likely would have suffered through the cold of the night without a fire. I cursed myself for being so weak.
 
As one of the men moved to bind his hands, my friend saw an opportunity to act and was met with the hilt of a sword to the side of his head.
 
"No stop, please!" I screamed as he fell.
 
"Children can be so rash, don't you think, boys?" the leader commented.
 
I couldn't take my eyes off my friend as he squirmed in the dirt, reeling from the pain.
 
"Alright, help him up." I looked up to find an almost disinterested look on the leader's face as he spoke. "Watch her; make sure she behaves."
 
"Yes, boss." The one that had grabbed me earlier once again took hold of my arm. At the time I could only pray Orin and I would both make it out alive.
 
=^..^=
 
They dragged us through the forest like pigs being led to slaughter. Orin, much more harshly than I was, despite the fact that he was still unsteady from the hit earlier.
 
"Please, let me tend to him," I said as I tried to go over to him, but I was shoved forward.
 
"Keep moving," the man said harshly.
 
"Easy," the leader called out from near the front of the group. "Don't damage the merchandise now."
 
"I'm okay," I heard Orin call from somewhere behind me. Last I'd seen, he was being helped along by two men. "Don't worry about me."
 
It took all I had in me to keep from rushing over to him. Instead, I walked obediently.
 
It wasn't long before we arrived at a much larger group, and what I saw sent shivers down my spine. There were more of those rough-looking men, and with them, more like me, bound together.
 
It was then that it dawned on me who they really were. Slavers.
 
"Men, our luck has turned around for the better," I heard the leader call out as we approached.
 
I took in as much as I could. I knew I had to if I was going to find a way to get Orin and me away from these people.
 
There were a number of horses tied together and watched over. Some of those horses drew along carts with people caged in them. The smaller wagon had only women no older than in their twenties.
 
There were more people sitting on the ground bound together. Upon closer inspection, I noted that those were only men.
 
"And look at this one," the leader's voice cut through the sound of the other men cheering. I looked up to find him closing the gap between us. With one hand, he grabbed my jaw and inspected my face. It was useless to struggle with my hands bound. "She'll fetch a fine price, I know she will."
 
He flashed me a sinister smile before letting me go.
 
"And look--" he said as he walked past me and towards Orin, "a package deal."
 
I used the opportunity to get a good look at Orin, who was still slumped over. I didn't even know how he was managing to stand after the hit he'd sustained. I had to find a way to get us away from these people.
 
"Put her in with the others," the leader said to the man whose job it seemed to keep me in check. "And be careful—" he added while my gaze still lingered on him, "That one is going to make me a lot of money."
 
I knew I had to be careful. I didn't make a fuss even as I was led into the smaller cart with the three young women. All I could think about was how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.
=^..^=
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Hiya, sorry I disappeared. Needed some time. Anyway, new short story. Let me know what you think so far.

The women beside me could only hold my attention for a brief moment. I'd noted that, despite looking in better condition than the other captives, they still looked just as worn out emotionally. And out of the three of them, only one had presence enough to pay me any mind, but my attention was needed elsewhere.

I hauled myself to the bars that prevented me from leaving and peered through them. I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Orin just as he was loaded into the other cart.

I sighed under my breath. Being separated was going to make an escape that much more challenging.

"On your feet, you sorry sacks," the leader said with a raised voice, after which the rest of his gang went about readying the rest of the captives for a journey ahead.

At the moment, I could only be thankful that Orin wasn't in the unfortunate position of walking behind the group, dragged along by the horses. That small victory would have to suffice for now.

I searched desperately around my new cage, searching for a way out.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." One of the women spoke while her head remained resting on the bars.

I turned to face her but didn't say anything in response.

"You're thinking of escaping, aren't you?" she asked. "You should give that up."

"I don't belong here," I told her, and she laughed as though she had been expecting me to say as much.

"None of us belong here, girl."

Slavery had always been a part of our society, but as I understood it, it was for those that were sold into it, those that borrowed what they could not pay, or those that received the verdict as punishment for a crime. I was none of those.

"No, you don't understand," I tried to explain, "They set upon us just this morning. We're not slaves."

"And you don't understand. You are what this lot says you are."

"No," I shook my head, "I need--" I started but turned my focus to the world outside when the cart began rolling. "My friend, he's hurt. Where are they taking us?"

"Where else? To sell."

Her words stopped me in my tracks. For the first time since being put in this cart, I sat down with the realization of our situation.

When the woman saw the grave look on my face, she continued, "But you know, we're the lucky ones, you and I. Birds in a cage. People like to look at pretty birds in cages. And they like to touch them."

She gave me a look that asked me if I understood what she was saying. I hated the fact that I did. My expression made it clear to her that I did.

"Do you have a name?"

"R-Rowen," I stuttered.

"I am Thalia," she replied while eyeing me closely, "and how old are you?"

I examined the woman that was waiting patiently for an answer. She had the most beautiful olive skin and a head of black curls. Despite all of her features being shrouded by dirt, I could tell she was beautiful.

"17," I answered. It had crossed my mind that I probably shouldn't have been so free with information, but as I saw it, we were in the same boat.

"Young," she muttered quietly to herself.

My gaze shifted once again through the bars to the cart that followed close behind ours. I didn't know what I would do if it suddenly veered off in a different direction.

"Is that your darling back there?" I heard her ask me. "I know that look."

I just shook my head.

"You want my advice?" she asked, after which I turned again to face her, "Worry about yourself. Where you're going, it's better if you don't have another man on your mind."

"It's not--" I paused. "What is going to happen to him?"

"Who knows?"

=^..^=

We rode through the countryside and passed many sights that I might have been enraptured by had I been witnessing them with Orin by my side.

We passed many more people who only averted their gazes away from us. I was quickly learning the true nature of our society. There were only slaves and those who were thankful that they weren't.

I'd never given it much thought, but now in this position, I wondered why no one saw anything wrong with this.

Much later in the day, the caravan rode to a halt, and a pitiful meal of stale bread and grain was passed through the bars. It was around this time that the two other, almost sickly women awoke and became aware of my presence.

They eyed me carefully before digging into the bread like they hadn't eaten in days. After a few bites and as they neared satisfaction, they turned to Thalia and gestured in my direction.

"That's Rowen," Thalia announced. "She joined us this morning. Aren't you going to eat?" She asked me.

I took one look at the moldy bread and shook my head. It would have been more of a surprise if I'd had an appetite following the events of the day. And apart from that, it felt as though eating this meal would mean accepting my fate, and I couldn't do that.

"Give it here then," Thalia said to me.

No matter how I looked at the situation, I couldn't see a way past the score of armed men. Out of the two of us, I wasn't the one that was good with adversity. That was Orin.

I wondered how he was doing now in the cart that followed ours. I moved closer to the bars to get a better look, but all I found was the leader of the slavers approaching our cart.

I backed away from the bars as he approached, admittedly afraid of what he might do. He took one glance at the other women eating and then at me. I was caught off guard when he unveiled a slice of salted meat and held it through the bars for me.

"Go on then," he said when I didn't immediately take it from him.

I frowned and turned away, managing to hold on to my pride a little bit longer. He chuckled, then tossed it at Thalia, who caught it happily. He tapped the bars contentedly before walking away whistling happily to himself.

"You'll regret that," Thalia told me.

It wasn't long until she was proved right. The hunger grew as the day progressed, and with it, my resolve to find a way to escape.

"Hello? Somebody?" I called out with my hand waving through the bars. Soon after, one of the slavers made his way over to me, walking alongside the cart as it rode along.

"What is it?"

"I need to relieve myself," I told him.

"Not until we make camp," he replied while already turning away.

"Wait!" I called out again, "I can't hold it."

"Well then," he turned to face me again, appearing slightly annoyed, "go ahead."

I fell back defeated. It wasn't until it was dark and the carts stopped for the last time that day that I was allowed to find a corner to piss. And even then, not without a watchful eye.

I'd had to crouch while turned away to keep my secret hidden. No sooner had I concluded than the guard approached, grabbed my arm, and pulled me back into the cart.

I couldn't see a way out with the way they kept us locked away all the time. As much as I hated it, it was a fact that I would not be able to create my own opportunity.

"Why doesn't anyone try to escape?" I asked Thalia when I was sure he was far enough away to not overhear.

"Because of what happens when you're caught," she answered.

What followed was my first night as a slave, one where I was so terribly famished and only sleep would offer solace.

At midday the following day, when the bread was offered, I ate it. So much for my pride.

=^..^=

It took several days for us to reach the next town, where we were inspected by potential buyers in back alleys.

"How much for this one?" An older man dressed in silk approached the cart. He wasn't alone. Other patrons were inspecting the lot of us. Some were in search of strong men for work; others were here for a very different purpose.

He'd inspected me intensely through the bars before reaching through and basically prying my lips apart to get a good look at my teeth. I suffered through it all obediently, knowing it would serve no one for me to be watched closer than I already was.

The leader of the slavers arrived with that ever-present smile. "I must apologize; that one is not for sale." He spoke as though he was a man of dignified origin and not the common lowlife that he was. "Have any of the others caught your eye?"

To my surprise, the other women seemed to be trying to appear more attractive. I came to the conclusion rather quickly that they probably sought better treatment at the buyer's hands than they would receive at the hands of the slavers.

I understood that, I really did, but how could they have no problems being bought and owned by someone?

The man's eyes seemed to linger on Thalia, who smiled at him in response.

The man audibly cleared his throat, then turned to the slaver. "I suppose I could make do with that one there for a favorable price."

"Oh, I'm sure we could work something out." The slaver beamed, "This way, let's talk business."

As they turned to leave, I reached out and grabbed the slaver's arm. "Please, sir, what of my friend?"

"Know your place," he spoke sharply in a hushed tone before pulling away.

The two men stepped away and out of sight, presumably to talk business. I had no choice but to sit back after having accomplished nothing.

"Keep that up and you'll get yourself killed," Thalia said to me.

I folded my arms and retreated into myself. If I listened hard enough, I could hear the bustle of the small town in the background. The taverns, the streets, the homes—they were so full of life.

A town such as this one, Orin and I would probably have passed through on our journey to the city. I imagined us in one of those taverns, asking for a spare room to spend the night before seeking directions the following day. Why did things have to turn out like this?

"Fool girl." One of the other women jeered.

Thalia let out a frustrated sigh. "Listen, I like you. You remind me of myself when I was your age. You need to come to terms with what you are if you're going to survive," she explained. "Find a man that won't put any bruises on you and make him happy. Maybe he'll make you happy as well. Forget about that boy or whatever life you had before this."

I couldn't do that. No matter what, I couldn't do that.

"Oh well," she resigned when she spotted the stubborn expression on my face, "I will soon be away from this cage. I hope you will remember what I said."

=^..^=

Thalia left us the next morning just before the caravan set off.

"Remember what I said," she'd told me one last time as she was led out of the cage by her new owner, hands still bound.

I wondered how much he had paid for her. How much would he have paid for me? I glanced around at the others. How much were we all worth?

The cage became my home for the next three weeks, repeating the same routine of eating once daily and sleeping for most of it.

The other 2 women remained indifferent to me. It turned out they didn't hold the same fondness for me that Thalia had. The only time we came into contact was on colder nights when we would huddle together for warmth.

Despite their best efforts, they weren't sold in either town the caravan had passed through since Thalia departed.

Another girl joined us just when we were nearing the city, sold off by her parents no less. She looked to be around my age, perhaps a bit older. Not that I could confirm, on account of the girl not saying a word.

Orin. I hadn't gotten so much as a glimpse of him in weeks. I had no way of knowing if he was even still in the cart that followed ours. I had always tried to get a look whenever I was allowed to exit the cage to relieve myself, but it was always too dark.

The first bit of excitement in weeks came when the city came into view. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. It had stone ramparts that climbed so high it looked like they were touching the sky.

There were towers at equal intervals along the walls, walls that stretched so far it almost felt like an impossibly large cage.

The roads widened as we approached, filled with people. Many walked, others were on horseback, and a few of them sat comfortably in impressive carriages. And then there were people like me.

We were inspected by the guards at the gate, the same people I'd once thought might save me if they knew what had happened to me. The same ones Orin had spoken about joining their ranks.

I wanted to scream that these slavers had taken me hostage, and I wanted to beg them to save Orin and me, but as I stared into those disinterested, almost disgusted eyes, I knew there was no salvation here.

I wasn't sure, but it looked to me like the slaver leader who had stepped out to deal with one of the guards and might have pressed gold coins in his hand. When he turned to me following his concluded business, it looked like he was gloating, knowing I was powerless.

As we passed through the gates, I said quietly to myself, "We've arrived, Orin. Just not how we planned."

=^..^=

We drew some attention as we rode through town, but for the most part, there was little reaction beyond mild curiosity.

I stared at their faces even as most pretended not to see me. I wondered about what my own reaction would have been if this unfortunate thing had not happened. Would I have turned away as well?

The caravan quickly veered off the main roads into back alleys where you'd expect to find the more morally questionable.

We rode along without stopping until we arrived at our destination.

From the street, it looked nothing like a prison. Lanterns glowed at each window, spilling soft golden light onto its walls, bathing the entire structure in an almost ethereal light. This golden light paired with the crimson-painted shutters seemed to invite you within its walls. Silk banners draped along the roof tiles blew softly in the evening breeze.

Music leaked from within along with loud laughter. It was as though the building itself exhaled pleasure.

A loud whistle rang through the air just before the slaver leader made his appearance in front of our cart. He positively beamed from ear to ear as he undid the lock on the cage door.

"Line up!" he ordered.

With my hands bound, I stepped carefully through the door to account for my reduced maneuverability.

One after another we took position in front of the cage that had become too familiar. Not until all four of us were lined up and facing the beautiful building did he walk up, pushing open the gate and stepping through.

I examined my surroundings. The area wasn't packed with people, but there were enough buildings separated by dim alleys that I could consider an escape. Even with the other slavers watching us closely and my hands bound, it was still the best chance I'd had since my capture.

Assuming I was quick enough, it wasn't inconceivable to sprint down one of these paths while I had the element of surprise.

I pushed the thought away from my mind when I heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the gate. It didn't matter anyway. I would never escape without Orin, who I hoped was still in the cart that had stopped some paces away from where I currently stood.

The slaver returned with a stunningly dressed woman, who was followed by another young woman and some guards.

The woman who looked to be in charge here was clothed in a beautiful velvet robe and adorned with jewels. Her hair was styled perfectly with not a strand out of place, and to me, it looked like she made no attempts to hide the hints of grey at the temples. I got the sense that she pursued respect instead of youth.

She held her head high with an air of superiority even as her eyes immediately went to work, scanning the four of us for any impurities.

"A good selection we have today," the slaver spoke from her side.

"Hmm," she mused. She walked forward, purposefully taking my arm and raising it slightly to inspect my fingernails. "Teeth," she said simply and waited expectantly.

I obeyed.

"Hmm, what is your name?"

"Rowen"

"Her voice is a little deep," she said to the slaver. "It's unpleasant."

"Lady Isolde, please, we both know many men find that sort of thing attractive," he replied nervously.

"Hmm," she mused once again before stepping away, after which she went through the motions with the next girl.

By the time she concluded, she gestured to me and spoke with an air of finality, "This one. I will need to thoroughly inspect her, as you know. Return tomorrow morning."

"Very well," the slaver agreed just as Lady Isolde was already turning away. "May I interest you in someone else? A boy? Very handsome. If your fine establishment has need of that."

She only waved him off.

"He's strong," the slaver continued, "and good with a sword too. It took the lot of us to take him down."

"That's enough, Garrick," she responded impatiently. "I have no need of such things."

"The girl feels strongly about him," the slaver pressed. "They were together, you see. I just thought you might find some value there."

Lady Isolde turned to look at me one last time, and without my willing it to, my face pleaded with her.

"I will be willing to offer a good price to my best customer," Garrick added when he noticed her relent.

"I suppose the warehouse could do with another hand," she said just loud enough to be heard. I watched her turn to the young woman she was with. "Take the girl inside. Get her prepared and ready for me."

Garrick took this as his cue to step up and undo the bind that held my wrists together. I rubbed my freed wrists and let relief wash over me. My plight was far from over, but I was thankful for the improvement.

The other woman bowed before ordering me to follow. I obeyed like I'd been doing, following every instruction for the last few weeks. Even if I still refused to accept the fact that I was now a slave, it was clear that I was acting a lot like one.

I passed through those gates without so much as a glimpse of my friend. I hoped desperately that I hadn't seen him for the last time.

=^..^=

Only when we were on the other side of the fence did I realize that this was the back of the building.

As we made our way through the side door, the first thing that hit me was the smell. The smell of perfume struggling to hide the smell of sweat, soap, and kitchen smoke.

Stepping through, I was immediately met by a large man that towered over me. I knew as soon as he stepped forward that he could break me if he ever wished to or was ordered to. He only stepped aside when he noticed the woman I was with.

I was led through an opening that fed into a dimly lit hallway. Girls in loose robes slipped past in all directions. In their expressions when they saw me, I could identify intrigue, pity, and, on some occasions, indifference.

Down another path, I perceived the smell of food and drink, but the woman led me elsewhere. I was led past another corridor with racks of costumes and rooms filled with half-naked women being helped into elaborate gowns.

It was at that point I began to wonder what would happen when the truth of my situation came to light. I wondered whether I should have taken Thalia's advice this whole time and should have been worried about myself instead of Orin.

Wherever he was headed, he would surely fit in among the men in the same situation as he. Why was I here in this place?

It didn't take long for everything to come to a head as I was led into a small room at the end of the corridor and told to remove the rags.

I sighed deeply and prayed that they would at least recognize that this was no fault of mine. I hadn't sought out to deceive anyone. I certainly hadn't sought out to be taken as a slave.

Slowly I removed my garments, starting from my upper body. I watched her eyes widen when what she expected to be bound breasts turned out to be the flat chest of a man.

I turned my attention to my dirty breeches, worn out over weeks, letting them fall to the floor.

I had hoped this would be the end of it, but the woman seemed intent on seeing with her own eyes, so I obeyed. I removed the loincloth as well, and with it, my last shred of dignity. My petite, unimpressive figure was in full view.

The woman seemed shaken as she stepped away. "Stay here," she muttered before closing the door behind her.

I wondered about my fate. It was anyone's guess at this point. Most likely, I thought they were going to return me to Garrick and his slave band.

What did I want? I had no idea. I just knew I would have been happy to be taken wherever Orin was.

I took the time left until I would learn my fate to examine the room. It wasn't particularly large, but everything in it seemed deliberate. A tall, polished metal mirror I hadn't noticed before stood in the corner. We hadn't had any of those at the orphanage, so that alone was a marvel.

There were no windows, but oil lamps provided sufficient lighting, so it wasn't hard to maneuver. A straight-backed chair, a writing table, and measuring instruments. All items present seemed purposefully placed for an inspection.

I thought to sit but quickly ruled it a bad idea, and so I stood. I stood until Lady Isolde made her appearance and looked upon my naked form.

Perhaps any other reaction would have been less of a surprise than the one she employed.

I admit I was confused by her expression. Was it amusement? Calculation?

Lady Isolde eyed me closely before chuckling to herself. "Teach him what he needs to know," she said finally to the woman beside her.

=^..^=
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OK so pretty long setup but we can finally get into the story. I hope you're enjoying it. Let me know what you think :)

"I am Selene," the woman said after briefly stepping away to retrieve a robe for me to cover up. "You may call me Madam Selene, or just Madam will suffice."

I nodded as I quickly draped the robe over my naked body. The soft material felt heavenly atop my bare skin, a stark contrast to the rough tunic that clung to my body the past few weeks.

"And you are?" I heard her ask. I hadn't yet had the opportunity to ponder my new circumstance, but that still would have to wait.

"Rowen, ma'am—" I paused, "Madam."

"The first rule is cleanliness," she continued in a bit of a hurry. "A courtesan of the Velvet Pavilion must remain perfectly clean at all times. Now follow me."

Selene led me back through the halls, which were now mostly empty, not counting a few stray courtesans who were late getting to their positions on the floor. There were many fewer eyes to hide from than there had been earlier, but still, I held the robe tightly to my body.

One of the strays was a young girl dressed in an elaborate velvet robe adorned with intricate patterns. Her hair was styled in an elegant updo and held together by a headpiece that caught the light from the lamps.

"I'm sorry, Madam Selene." She bowed as far as her headpiece would allow.

Selene clicked her teeth disapprovingly. "Hurry along."

The girl didn't say anything else, opting to simply scurry past us and down another path. I'd gotten some detail of her pretty face as she passed. If I had to guess, she was only a few years older than I was.

When Selene continued down our original path, I followed closely.

"Poppy joined us some months ago, and she is still so disorganized," she spoke as we walked. "I expect you to be better."

"Yes, Madam."

She led me to the largest bathhouse I had ever seen in my life, not that I had much experience with bathhouses beyond the meager example we'd had in the orphanage.

It was a spacious, steam-filled, tiled room. The centerpiece was a large, sunken, communal pool, which was surrounded by several smaller pools, all lined with water-worn stone.

The air was warm and humid, with the strong scent of lavender. There was an opening in the ceiling that would let in light during the day, but in this late evening, it offered little, so the oil lamps were doing most of the work of keeping the room visible.

"You can choose any one of the smaller baths," Selene explained. "You will find soap and oils near each pool. You will want to be very thorough to get rid of that smell. You will also find perfumes on the slab in the corner."

"Yes, Madam."

"Pay extra attention to that hair of yours," she continued. "With some work, it could be a highlight that elevates you to the level of your more experienced sisters."

"Yes, Madam," I bowed like I'd seen Poppy do earlier. How could everything have turned out like this?

"Go on then," she gestured impatiently, "I will return soon with clothes for you to wear."

And with that, I was left alone once again with a task at hand. All things considered, I was thankful for the opportunity to clean myself.

It had been a trying few weeks, and submerging myself was sure to provide some comfort, like the lake near the orphanage once did.

I let the robe fall off my body and began my descent into the depths toe first. It was warm and relaxing, even more so than the lake on a warm afternoon.

It wasn't just the surface too. It spread a warmth throughout my body as I lowered myself until my head alone remained above the surface.

I moaned audibly and wished Orin was here to experience this. But he would never be allowed in here, would he? This was a space reserved for courtesans. Women. So why was I here?

I groaned when I thought of my situation. I didn't belong here any more than I belonged in that cage taken as a slave.

On the matter of cages, this may as well have been one. Just a lot more luxurious. I dreaded to think about the sorts of things that were expected of me here.

No, I couldn't think about that yet. The thought scared me, and it's better to not jump to any conclusions.

I swam over to grab the soap and was enveloped by a wave of sweet-smelling olive. Nothing like the harsh animal tallow I was used to at the orphanage.

Like everything else, it was smooth and comforting as I rubbed it along my body. Yet another experience I wished Orin was here for.

As I cleaned, my mind turned to him. I wondered where he was now. As I understood it, Lady Isolde had been considering taking him too, but without a definite answer, I had no way of knowing.

What were the chances he was also experiencing an exquisite bath such as this wherever he was?

I shook my head and muttered to myself, "Not likely." I just hoped he was okay and that we would see each other again soon.

Madam Selene returned soon after and made her way to the far bath I'd chosen, placing folded cloth on a dry surface nearby.

"Can you find your way back to the other room?" she asked me.

I nodded.

"Good, return there when you're through here," she instructed. "Do not go to the main floor, and certainly do not go near the rear entrance. Haskel knows not to let any of the girls leave."

She'd turned to make her exit but stopped, turning to me one last time. She eyed me closely, my entire body below my chest obscured beneath the water's surface.

"You really do have the face of a woman," she commented to herself, "How strange."

=^..^=

I'd gone to work washing my grimy hair extensively and getting rid of every last bit of dirt. By the time I turned to cleaning the rest of my body, the tips of my hair dipped beneath the water's surface, reminding me of how long it was now.

I thought back to our time as kids when Orin had tried to get me to cut my hair. I wondered whether I was partly at fault for my situation. Of course he'd stopped pressing the matter when he understood me a bit better.

When you're an orphan, you don't own anything. My hair was mine alone, and I could never get rid of it.

Now it was perfectly clean, and so was the rest of me. With that done, I sat at the edge of the pool and applied the oils to my skin that now felt divine.

I would've imagined all my life and never imagined that a feeling like this one existed. It almost made everything that led me here worth it.

After I was done drying my hair as best as I could with a nearby towel, I could put it off no longer. Next came the clothes. I can't say I was very shocked by the women's attire that waited, but still, I had never worn anything of the sort.

It was a light cream gown with short puffed sleeves and a square neckline. Its waist was cinched snug to flatter the neckline, and the skirt fell in soft, flowing layers down to the calf.

She'd also included a linen chemise to be worn beneath the gown, but no loincloth, as that was a decidedly male piece of clothing. It was becoming very clear where I stood as a courtesan.

I felt so very alien as I went through the motions to wear my new clothes. Despite how odd it felt, I had to admit the clothes fit my figure better than I would have liked.

Last but not least was a simple slip-on on my feet, and the ensemble was complete. I was fully dressed as a young woman.

With no more excuses to remain in the bath, I made my exit.

=^..^=

"Rowen, this way." Madam Selene called out to me during my journey back to the inspection room.

I followed the voice into a room that had the most beautiful assortment of dresses and robes. There were all sorts: silks, velvet, and linens in all fashions. There was underwear too, from simple ones like the one I wore now to the sort that made me blush to look at.

I found pointed-toe shoes, leather boots, and more slip-ons like mine. Scattered around the room were stools, presumably for courtesans to sit while they dressed, and tables with numerous adornments from paint to jewelry.

"The second rule is presentation," she told me as I approached. "As a courtesan of the Velvet Pavilion, you must always appear far more beautiful than any girl the guest would ever see out in his world. That is the reason he comes into ours, to witness unparalleled beauty. This room is where that happens."

Madam Selene rose from her chair and ordered me into it. I obeyed.

From behind me, she ran her fingers through my long, damp hair. She carefully lifted it off my back, and only then did I notice it had soaked a portion of the dress on my back.

"Over the coming weeks, I and your sisters will teach you how to create that unparalleled beauty," she continued speaking as she reached over to retrieve a wide-toothed, wooden comb, which she ran expertly through my hair. "They will help prepare you, and when you have learned enough, you'll in turn help prepare them."

She combed my hair as it dried, the whole time sharing bits of information that I ought to know.

"Your sisters have begun entertaining, so I will introduce you to them at the end of the night." She informed me, while still running the comb through my hair, that she noted again that I had potential but needed work.

"What does entertaining mean exactly?" I found the courage to ask.

"Most usually just your company," she explained. "These men live for the opportunity to be in your company, and they pay a lot to do so. It is your duty to ensure that they enjoy that time. Sometimes, it is only conversation that is required. You pour their drinks, and you lead them places with your voice. It is no small feat. It is both companionship and emotional labor. You will learn how."

I listened intently as she spoke, but at the time, I couldn't have understood the scale of what would be required of me.

"Madam Selene?" I called out while she was busy applying scented oils to my almost dry hair.

"Yes."

"There was a boy with me," I started. "Did Lady Isolde purchase him too?"

"Forget about him." She said sharply, as though I had offended her, "The only men you should spare a thought for from now on are the guests of the Velvet Pavilion. You need to learn everything about them and quickly. You have no time to wonder about some slave boy."

It was obvious she would hear no more on the matter, so I let it go. It would be much harder to forget Orin, the boy I'd spent all of the last decade with. No matter how many times everyone around me told me to.

"The way the men have their swords and shields for battle, these here are your weapons." Madam Selene gestured to some products on the table. "Sit still; I will show you how to wield them."

"This is rosewater." She began by applying it to my face and then continued with a cream she told me was made with almond oil. Both were already peculiar additions that were entirely foreign to an orphan from the countryside, and I suspected the same for most of the peasantry across the country.

She showed me a crushed powder and a paste with rich red and pink colors that she then used gently on my lips and cheeks.

I knew already that it would be a challenge to learn everything I needed to, but unless I wanted to constantly be on the receiving end of one of those disapproving glares Poppy had received earlier, I would have to regardless.

"We use this—" she showed me a dark powder that resembled charcoal but seemed different even to my novice eyes, "to line the rims of our eyelids to make them appear darker and larger."

She held my head in place as she went to work, and it was all I could do to keep from squirming in response to the foreign feeling.

She stepped back and admired her work. When she was satisfied, she said, "You look at a man with those eyes, and he will tell you anything you want to know."

I watched her replace the products in their original positions and step away to a polished metal mirror in the corner. "Come."

Obediently, I made my way to her, and there, I saw the girl Madam Selene had been speaking to this whole time. Her lips were a dangerous shade of red. The subtle pink shade of her cheeks made her look innocent, a juxtaposition from the siren look in her eyes that seemed capable of drawing a man out to sea.

The worst part is she was me. To anyone that didn't know my secret, I would have belonged here as much as any of the other girls.

I wondered what Orin would say if he saw me like this. Would he stare enough to make me uncomfortable? Would he lightheartedly joke about it?

"It is an important skill, learning how to do this," Madam Selene told me as she watched me watch my reflection move in the mirror, "but it is only an enabler for the real skill every courtesan must learn. The ability to get any man to talk to you. Would you like to come see your sisters employ this skill?"

I nodded, although it didn't seem at all like a question.

"Let's get you dressed, then."

It took some time to select the perfect robe for me. It wasn't time wasted, though, as Madam Selene seemed thoroughly pleased when she held the purple velvet robe up to my body.

"Put this on," she instructed.

While I worked on lifting the gown off my body while still making sure the chemise wasn't lifted too high in the process to become indecent, Selene continued her lecture.

"It will be some time before you are allowed to entertain," she told me. "You have so very much to learn yet. The guests of the velvet pavilion aren't the common lot. These are the lords and the military commanders, the richest men in the city."

Her words drew my mind to Lady Isolde. I couldn't help but wonder whether she was actually a member of nobility or if it served a different purpose.

"These are men that out there, control all our fates. But in here—" she stepped forward to tie the ornate silk cord at my waist, holding the beautiful embroidered robe in place. "We must be in control of them. It is a fine line that must not be disturbed. Only when you have learned to walk that fine line will you be allowed on the floor alongside the others."

I admired the long, flowing, open-fronted garment that almost always showed a glimpse of my legs underneath it.

"Good, take a seat," Madam Selene instructed while returning to the stool.

I was overwhelmed by the sensation on my skin as I walked. It was a far cry from the rough tunics I'd worn all my life. It was tailored to move and drape with my body as I walked, revealing and concealing with every step. And worst of all, it felt like it fit.

When I sat, the robe fell off my legs, threatening to show more than intended but never doing so. I sat shyly with my legs closed out of necessity to the garment's form.

Soon after, Madam Selene proceeded with the only item left, a simply adorned hair stick, which she twisted through my hair and pinned at an angle. It almost seemed like witchcraft how that little motion held both my hair and the hair stick in place, leaving only suggestive strands to trail down my neck.

This, paired with the garment's wide collar, left a generous viewing of my neck and collarbones. Something told me that, like much of my appearance, that too was intentional.

"You're ready," she said, satisfied. "Come with me."

=^..^=

Together we made our way down the unexplored hallway, which led towards the music, the laughter, and the sweet smell of expensive dishes.

We reached an open space where men mingled with courtesans aplenty. Velvet-draped walls paired with oil lamps and candles virtually everywhere you looked made it a jaw-dropping sight.

There were plush divans and well-crafted tables that separated even this open area into semi-private spaces.

The most striking feature was the sweeping, curved staircases that led to the upper floors, along which some courtesans stood almost as if on display. Others played various instruments, making music with their fingers, showing both skill and beauty at once.

Most courtesans were engaged, however, entertaining some seemingly important man or another.

"This is the atrium," Madam Selene explained. "When you are ready, you will spend some time entertaining here before you make your way up those stairs. I want you to watch your sisters closely. Watch what they do and learn from them."

I took the opportunity to study those in view. A light touch here, an interested smile there. It was too cruel to expect me to do any of that, being a man myself. Despite that fact, Madam Selene remained convinced that I would learn how.

"This way," Madam Selene instructed, and I followed. We made our way into a different, quieter room where the men spoke more often with one another, with the courtesans present only to bring and pour drinks. "This is the wine room," she informed me.

I could only make out bits and pieces of the numerous conversations being had. Some politics here and some philosophy there. Some conversations I couldn't even make sense of.

There we found Lady Isolde engaged in conversation herself with an older man. I couldn't immediately place her role in that interaction, whether it was as a courtesan or someone that stood on equal footing socially.

My heart skipped a bit when I saw her gesture us over.

"Do not speak unless spoken to," Madam Selene told me as she ushered me along.

As instructed, I became a voiceless decoration.

"Isolde, have you been keeping this one from me?" The man spoke in a deep, coarse voice.

"Certainly not, chancellor," Lady Isolde let out a small laugh. "She's new and very inexperienced."

"Not always a bad thing," he replied, then laughed to himself.

"That may very well be, but as you know, we have a certain standard here at the pavilion, so I'm afraid she's as of yet unavailable."

He made a show of leering at me, and I hated every second of it.

"Very well," he licked his lips. "I hope you'll let me know when she is-- available."

"Of course, Chancellor," she answered, "Although, it may not be for some time, but I promise it'll be worth the wait. You'll find this one very special."

"High praise coming from you, my dear." The man made no efforts to hide how pleased he was with her words and my appearance. "I will be looking forward to it."

It was only when Madam Selene and I returned to the atrium that I realized how heavily my heart was beating. Everything about that man offended me, and most of all, the way he looked at me.

It made me sick.

"Some courtesans go many nights before a guest takes interest in them; it seems you will have no such shortage." Selene told me, "You will learn to feed on that attention and turn it in your favor."

I didn't want to do that. Why did what I want seem to matter the least?

"Let us get you some food and then to bed," Madam Selene said to me. "Your training begins bright and early tomorrow. I will take you to your room after I show you how to remove the paint at the end of the night."

There was no break. It was one cruel realization after another. The latest of which came after I'd received a helping of stewed vegetables from the kitchen and we'd exited the opulent main halls and passed through a utilitarian door that led to a separate wing of the pavilion.

Madam Selene had unlocked access to this area with a key that she kept on her person. I could only assume that this area would be locked at all times, especially at night, so escape would not be so easy.

I had nowhere to go without Orin anyway, so I had to put that thought firmly aside for now.

It was quiet here, unlike the music-filled halls of the main wing.

My shock came when she showed me to an open dormitory with eight beds by my count and trunks at the bases of each one. I'd noticed that there were other similar rooms.

"You can have this bed," Madam Selene had told me.

"Am I to stay here?" I glanced at the other beds. "With the others?"

"Do you think you are special enough to deserve your own room?" Selene asked, "That privilege is reserved only for our most sought-after courtesans."

"But I can't."

"These girls are your sisters, and the sooner you start seeing yourself as one of them, the better." She said to me, despite the incredulous look on my face, "I would have given you that advice regardless of what lies between your legs. You are now a courtesan of the Velvet Pavilion, and there are no men here."

She said it with a finality that told me I wasn't to bring it up again, but how could I not?

"But—"

"You've had a long journey, and I've had a long day," she said finally. "We will speak more in the morning."

=^..^=

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Hiya, so slightly slower uploads as we head into the weekdays (job), but I'll try to get these out quickly. I really hope everyone is enjoying these. Love to hear your thoughts.

I awoke to the feeling of fingers on my chest. I hadn't even remembered falling asleep after Madam Selene left me for the night. I'd had no intention to drift so quickly, but as it turned out, the allure of a warm bed to sleep in after many nights spent in a cage was too much to overcome.

But what was this? This rhythmic poking of my chest by what felt like foreign fingers.

I opened my eyes abruptly to find two girls leaning over me. The one to whom the fingers belonged kept pushing it against my chest through the soft fabric of the linen dress.

I shot up, and in one quick motion, I shuffled to the far side of the bed. My eyes quickly scanned the room. There were three other women who had their gazes firmly trained on me.

"So it's true," the one with the wayward fingers spoke, "you're a boy, aren't you? Can I see it? To make sure? We're all really curious."

"Don't get close to it," One of the girls spoke up from across the room, "It won't be here long anyway."

"Come on, Lyra, leave him alone. Look at his face; he's terrified." A red-haired girl spoke. "And you too, Cressida, don't be rude. He's a person too."

"I just want to see it." The girl I assumed was Lyra pressed, "I won't be satisfied until I do."

She moved closer to me and leaned in. "Come on, show me. I'll show you mine," she sang.

"Look, Lyra, he's uncomfortable," the girl beside Lyra finally spoke. I hadn't recognized her without the paint, but now I was positive that voice belonged to Poppy from earlier. "Let's go," she urged the other girl.

"Go where? This is my room," she responded to Poppy's tugs at her dress.

"That's right." Cressida stood from her position on her bed. "This is our room. Only one of us doesn't belong here, so it should leave."

"That's enough," the last girl finally spoke.

"No," Cressida replied defiantly before she began advancing towards my bed all the way in the front of the room. I backed away to the edge instinctively. "I can't undress until it leaves," she hissed.

"Oh please, as if you've ever had any problems undressing around actual men," the red-haired girl spoke once again. "And he barely counts as even that."

"That's not the point, Bria." Cressida turned sharply to face the girl with the thick mane of red hair. "That is when I am performing. I don't want to have to keep performing at the end of the night."

"You don't have to perform for him, you know that, right?" Bria argued, "He's one of us. He'll be out there performing right there beside us."

Cressida turned just so I could see her stare daggers at me.

"Girls, enough. "I have enough of a headache," the girl at the end spoke again. It got the sense that she was more mature than the others. I wasn't sure whether it was because she was older or if she had just been here the longest.

"And are you okay with this, Anya?" Cressida asked with a hint of disbelief, "And the rest of you? You're fine with this thing staying here? With us?"

"I don't think he had a hand in it," Lyra answered but had framed it as more of a question. "Even if he's a boy, and the jury is still out on that, he's a slave here like so many of us?"

"Yeah, I'm sure he didn't wish for this," Poppy helped.

"Go on, Cressida, ask him if he wished for it," Anya added.

They all turned to me expectantly, and I could only shake my head in response.

Cressida had looked swayed for a moment before her face hardened. "What? No. If Isolde thinks I'm going to share a room with whatever this is, she's going senile."

The rest of the girls seemed to spring into action to quickly shush her.

"Don't let Madam hear you saying that," Bria cautioned.

"Why? I'm not a slave like the rest of you," Cressida scoffed.

"So what are you going to do then?" Anya asked smugly. She knew, as did all the other courtesans, that in the Velvet Pavilion, Lady Isolde's word was law.

"I'm going to meet her and let her know just how I feel about this arrangement," she conceded. "You—" she turned and pointed right at me, "Don't get comfortable."

My world froze as she began to turn towards the door. I know it was selfish. The last thing I wanted was to make anyone uncomfortable. I hadn't been brought here by my own will, but at the thought of being sent away, a realization dawned on me. Orin was all that mattered right now, and the thought of getting separated from him in this great, big world was something I had to avoid.

My body moved before I registered what I was doing. I moved quickly past a shocked Poppy and Lyra and fell to my knees in front of the door.

"What is it doing?" Cressida turned to the others. They shrugged. "Move," she said to me.

"I—" I froze quickly, realizing I had nothing to say. But still, I had to say something, anything. "Lady Isolde bought my friend too. He means the world to me, and I have no idea where he is." My face conveyed emotions that my lips could not.

Cressida stepped back slightly, occasionally glancing at the other girls who had their eyes trained on me.

"I-- I have to believe that he's here somewhere," I explained, "and I can't leave until I find him. I don't—" I'd tried to be concise, but I couldn't keep my voice from cracking and trailing away when it came down to it.

"I don't know where to begin," I continued without taking a breath, "but this is the best I have right now. I know it's selfish for me to ask, but please," I said before dropping my head into a bow, a recognized symbol of respect, but here I meant it as a surrender.

It was quiet for some time. I imagined the girls were exchanging glances, but I didn't raise my head to confirm.

When a voice finally cut through the silence, it was Cressida's: "Your voice is disgusting. No man is going to want to listen to that. And it's too whiny. It's grating. It's going to ruin my rhythm every time I'm forced to hear it, so fix it or shut up."

I looked up to find her already walking away back to her bed at the other end of the room.

The room remained silent for a moment as Cressida retreated, and I soon began to feel the awkwardness as I remained kneeling.

Lyra, with her cascade of dark, unruly curls, unintentionally saved me by rushing to take Cressida's former position in front of me.

"Now, where were we?" she beamed. Unlike the intricate velvet robes the girls wore to entertain, she was now dressed in a similarly styled dress to the linen one I was wearing. The only difference was that she filled every bit of it just as you'd expect. I had to wonder what value I had as a courtesan when girls like her existed.

"Go to bed, Lyra," Bria called out sharply.

"Oh, but I haven't even gotten to ask about this boy he mentioned," she complained.

"Now." Bria stressed, which was met by a groan from the strange girl. It wasn't until Lyra had returned to her bedside and the fuss seemed to have died down that I found the courage to stand.

"What is your name?" Bria asked me when I was back sitting on my bed.

"Rowen," I answered, now self-conscious of my own voice.

"That even sounds like a girl's name," Lyra exclaimed. "I know a girl when I see one."

"Goodnight, Lyra," Bria said with a finality.

"Goodnight, sisters, including Rowen," Lyra sang.

"Goodnight," I replied, almost unconsciously speaking softer now so as to not irk Cressida.

I had turned to gauge her reaction at the far end of the room, but I had found her undressing down to her chemise instead. I turned away as fast as I could.

"Goodnight, Rowen," I heard a tiny voice that originated from the bed across from me. I looked up to find a pleasant expression on Poppy's youthful face. She had to have been the youngest girl here, not including me. I could only wonder how old she really was.

"Goodnight," I answered softly.

When I heard the sound of fabric rustling across the room, I realized the other girls must have begun undressing for the night. All I could do was lie facing the wall. At the time, I didn't know how I could possibly survive this place, but I had to try.

=^..^=

I was awakened by tapping on my feet. For a second, I had forgotten where I was and imagined myself back in the cage, but it wasn't long until my true situation dawned on me.

I shot up quickly to find Madam Selene staring down at me disapprovingly. It had only taken half a day for one of those to be directed at me.

"I let you sleep in because you've gone through a harrowing ordeal, but it is now time for your morning ablution," she spoke sternly. "Unless she had worked the upper floor the night before, all courtesans are expected up bright and early."

"Yes, madam," I said sheepishly as I motioned to sit at the edge of the bed.

"I didn't think it needed to be said, but that seems to have been my mistake," she pivoted. "We do not sleep in our dress like animals. You sleep in your undergarments and leave your dress folded neatly by your bed for the servants to retrieve. Did you not see your sisters do as much?"

For the first time, I turned from Madam Selene to find the girls huddled over a basin in the middle of the room wearing only their chemises while they washed up.

"I would have hoped you girls would guide her." Madam Selene turned to the others.

"Her?" Cressida chuckled audibly, "Where?"

"Do you have something to say, Cressida?"

She first looked at me and then back at Madam Selene. "No."

"Give me the dress." Madam Selene quickly turned her attention back to me.

By now, I knew better than to argue. I hurriedly lifted the cream linen dress off my head and handed it to her, leaving me with only a chemise like the others.

"I'll have more dresses brought to you before it is time for the meal; I expect you to take care of them," she explained, then nodded in the direction of the other girls. "Go wash up."

Some would consider it an art how non-threateningly I approached the girls huddled around the basin.

I had muttered a quiet "Thank you" when Poppy and Lyra had separated to make room for me.

Satisfied, Madam Selene made her exit, and from that point on, it was just a matter of following the lead of the other girls, washing up as they did.

=^..^=

My next big challenge came at mealtime. I had walked into the dining area alongside the other girls with whom I shared a room, minus Cressida and Anya, who had left earlier.

"Don't be afraid," Bria had offered when she noticed the petrified look on my face, but how couldn't I be when I stood face-to-face with 14 other courtesans I haven't yet met? All of whom were watching me and whispering, all along a long table that stretched from one end of the dining area to the other.

I couldn't do this. I simply couldn't.

"Bria is right; our sisters smell fear," Lyra whispered before walking in ahead of the rest of us.

Having exhausted her goodwill, Bria walked on, leaving just Poppy and me at the door.

"You're making it worse," she told me. "Just act like you belong here, and they will accept you soon enough. That's what I did."

I desperately wanted to tell her that it had worked for her because she was a girl like them, but my lips were frozen just as much as my feet.

Just when it was starting to get ridiculous, she took my hand and pulled me along. "They know you're just a slave too. This is no fault of yours."

"Cressida—" My newfound motion had set my lips free as well. "She mentioned that she wasn't a slave," I said to Poppy as she led me to the front of the room, where a large cauldron stood with wooden bowls nearby.

"Yes," Poppy answered while simultaneously pulling me along, "Some of the girls are workers and earn for their families. They can leave as soon as their term is up."

"And you—"

She shook her head before I could ask, "I am like you."

We arrived at the almost empty cauldron of porridge, and I followed Poppy's lead as she scooped a helping into a bowl for herself and helped herself to a piece of bread.

I couldn't help but feel grateful for her lead as I did the same. I had no idea what I would have done without her.

We had only made it a few paces to the other end of the table, where the only empty chairs remained, when a high-pitched voice rang across the dining area.

"I see you have no respect for your betters, boy!"

The room fell silent. In a moment, all of the previous chattering and whispering ceased.

I turned to find its owner standing up from her chair at the head of the table. She didn't even seem angry, just entertained.

If I were being honest, I found it rather unfair how everyone seemed to know the situation, and neither Lady Isolde nor Madam Selene had thought to offer me a helping hand. I was being thrown to the wolves here, and nothing made that fact more clear than when Poppy asked to hold my bowl.

"I'm sorry, miss," I offered, but unbelievably that only served to make her more upset.

"What do you think you're doing here?" She asked as she made her approach, "Hmm?"

"I don't—" I'd started to say something but froze when I saw her raised palm.

I'd tried to shield myself, but she'd caught me square across my face, throwing me to the floor. I was immediately thankful that Poppy had taken my bowl from me.

I looked up from my spot on the floor to find that she wasn't done. Before I'd even had the opportunity to recover, she grabbed my hair and pulled. I cursed silently and winced audibly when I felt the strain at the roots.

"What, are you a little lecher?" She asked me as she pulled harder and no one moved to stop her, "A little young to be engaging in such, aren't you?"

She slapped me once again, and this time it felt like her fingernails had nicked somewhere around my cheekbones.

"Isn't that quite enough, Sabine?" Anya spoke up after that second hit, "You've had your fun."

My assailant scoffed, "Sisters, I'm doing this for you. It must be dreadful sharing a room with this degenerate, right, Cressida?" She'd pulled my hair once more for good measure.

I couldn't see much from my position on the floor, but when I didn't hear any response, all I could do was hope for an end to the torment.

That came soon after in the form of Madam Selene's voice cutting through the air: "What is going on here?"

I groaned helplessly even as she immediately released her grip on my hair.

"Just welcoming the new courtesan, madam," Sabine spoke nervously.

"Is that so?" she asked as she stepped into the room. "If that's how you welcome, I can't imagine how you torture."

"I wasn't—" Sabine had started but was interrupted.

"Should I assign one of your sisters to attend to your regular tonight? "Because I will," Madame Selene threatened. "The captain, wasn't it?"

When Sabine quietly returned to her seat, Madame Selene took the opportunity to address the girls, "Rowen is your new sister. She is a courtesan of the Velvet Pavilion and must be treated as such. The next one that treats her this way will take over the chamber pot duties from the servants for a week."

And with that, it was over now. I took the opportunity to stand and clean myself as best I could. I rubbed my fingers through my disheveled hair and hoped none of it had been pulled out by Sabine. Even now under my new circumstances, my hair was still the only thing that truly belonged to me.

"Rowen," Madam Selene spoke directly to me, "find me in the dressing room after your meal. It is time to continue your training."

I nodded.

"The rest of you, take your practice seriously." She continued while commanding their undivided attention, "Any sloppy performances in front of the guests will be severely punished. Good."

Madam Selene, I knew I had to remain on her good side no matter what.

I turned to glance at Sabine, who still looked at me with a nasty expression. From her, I'd have to keep my distance.

A bit delayed, but we eventually found a place at the far end of the table. Bria was nearby, but Lyra was somewhere in the middle of the pack, chatting away already.

"I'm sorry," Poppy whispered to me a moment after we sat down to eat, "Sabine acts like our leader, but she's no different. She's a slave too, you know? She just got herself a regular and now acts like she's of the stars."

"The stars?" I leaned in and asked.

"Everyone just calls them that," she explained. "They're the most sought-after courtesans. They get their own rooms too."

I look around sparingly. "They're not here?"

"Oh no, they take their meals in their rooms," she replied. "If you're out on the floor tonight, I'll point them out. They're all so divine," she spoke in such a way that told me she admired them deeply.

"Oh."

"Maybe one day it'll be our turn," she mused.

'I hope not,' I thought to myself.

=^..^=

The meal turned out to be a lot more impressive than anything I'd ever eaten, even at the orphanage. I could taste spices and flavors in the porridge that hadn't ever been present before.

The bread was soft too; it was no surprise that I thoroughly cleaned the bowl despite Poppy's jests that the food wasn't going anywhere.

"Where can I relieve myself?" I whispered quietly to Poppy, who offered to show me before I headed for training. She'd only taken one more spoonful before leaving the entire thing wasted on the table.

It had taken some effort not to help myself to it.

Before I could put some distance between myself and the dining table, however, the girl that had been sitting just a seat over to my right suddenly grabbed my arm. I hadn't paid much mind to her, but now that I was forced to, I noted her extremely narrow, snakelike eyes that stared into my soul. I also noted that she was a unique kind of beauty. The kind you wouldn't just see out and about in the street.

"You know it's never going to end, do you not?" she asked me in a hushed voice. I wasn't sure if it was a warning or a threat.

My mouth hung open in shock at what she'd said.

"If I were you, I would leave before something truly dangerous happened," she finished, and only then did she let go of my arm. I couldn't help but remain staring even as she turned her attention back to her mostly untouched meal.

If I'd paid more attention back then, I might have noticed how little the girls were actually eating.

It took Poppy taking hold of my hand to snap me back to reality. "What did she say?" she asked me as we made our exit under watchful eyes.

"I'll tell you later," I answered simply.

=^..^=

Poppy, as promised, had shown me to the privy area just outside the courtesans' wing of the pavilion. As she'd explained it, this area was only available during the day. Any business that needed to be done after the doors to our wing had been locked for the night was to be done in the sealed chamber pots beneath our beds.

Those, she told me, were helpfully emptied by the servants before we awoke.

She'd also shown me to a separate area with a basin and other washcloths but had paused in the middle of her explanation.

"I suppose you have no need of that," she'd said before pressing forward.

Lastly, she'd helpfully escorted me to the dressing room in the main wing before returning to our room alone to begin practice.

I had a separate regimen, of course, with Madam Selene. The day had barely begun, and I was already exhausted.

Still, I perked up to attention when Madam Selene began, "The third rule is—"

=^..^=

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Thanks for reading. Leave a comment. :)

"--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.

=^..^=

"Rowen, come with me; you have a guest." Madam Selene had walked up to me while I was mid-conversation with Ione that evening.

I hated to admit it, but I had settled into a sort of normalcy over the past few weeks. Between the usual tediousness of training, the mixed feelings in the dorms, and the unease at breakfast and dinner, I'd come to know what to expect.

It was humiliating at times in the wine room, being expected to sit there, gawked at by men, but those evenings too had grown manageable despite 'my regular,' as Ione called him.

The man I'd come to know only as Lord Bram always seemed to seek out any opportunity to touch me, and Ione enabled him by sending only me to attend to him when he was around.

The fact that he wasn't in the wine room that evening and Madam Selene had just informed me of my very first guest filled me with dread.

First of all, it was much sooner than expected. Even I knew my training was far from finished, and Poppy, who had months on me, was still awaiting her first.

I looked up at Madam Selene to plead my case but found worry on her face, which in turn only fueled mine.

I turned briefly to face Ione, who, despite her usual shenanigans, now only seemed concerned.

"Madam, I don't think she's ready," Ione tried to help for once.

"We've taught her well, perhaps even more extensively than the other girls." Madam Selene seemed to be trying to convince herself as much as the two of us, "She'll be fine. Rowen, come with me now."

I turned once again to look at Ione, who seemed at a loss.

"If it helps, I don't think he intends to be intimate with you," Madam Selene added while gently guiding me through the wine area. "He's not that sort of man."

"Who is he?" I finally thought to ask.

"You met him earlier, the spymaster," she whispered to me as we walked by several patrons. "He's a very important guest to Lady Isolde and must be treated as such."

"You said I would never be ready for him," I voiced with my worry compounding.

"Well, you are," she replied as we approached the steps to the upper floor.

As if it wasn't bad enough, it was early enough in the night that there were more courtesans than usual in the atrium watching my ascent and whispering.

"Remember everything I taught you." She placed a hand on my waist and guided me up the steps. I wasn't sure I would have been able to manage it otherwise with how nervous I was.

I wondered whether, since I arrived at the Velvet Pavilion, I'd managed to bury away the reality of my predicament behind my concern for Orin.

Now that reality was front and center, and there was no hiding from it. I was a man being expected to entertain another in the same way a woman would.

"Does he know about me?" I asked when most of the staircase was now behind us.

"Of course he does," Madam Selene answered, "Lady Isolde would never spring such a surprise on such a valued guest."

Then why? How could he know the truth and still seek me out? And how could I face him as a man myself?

I stopped in my tracks just as we reached the upper floor, frozen and unable to go any further.

"This won't do," Madam Selene urged me forward. "It is like I told you. Out there, that is his world. In here, it is yours. You have to be in control here. Pour his drink and listen to him. Oftentimes, you don't need to do any more than that."

Step by step down the hall we carried on, and as much as I dreaded it, the journey eventually came to an end. One of the doors along the hall of doors was mine to walk through tonight, and we now stood in front of it.

I was thankful that the hall was at the very least quiet, as expected for this time of night.

Madam Selene turned her attention fully to me now, starting by adjusting my velvet robe as she saw most appealing and then removing a strand of hair from my bun to fall freely in front of my face.

"When you step in, greet him with a curtsy and offer to pour his drink," she told me, and I could only nod in response.

She gave me one last smile before helping me open the door and urging me through.

Inside I found him as pristinely kept as before. He was handsome, all the more so as his features were being illuminated by the oil lamps around the room.

He was worthy enough to have caught my attention first despite the luxury of the room that surrounded him.

I noted the oversized cushion on which he sat and the low, sturdy table right in front of him, where a pitcher of wine waited alongside a tray filled with grapes, berries, and sweet almonds.

There was what I expected to be a vanity area in a corner of the room, shielded away by an exquisitely designed screen.

Not to be ignored was a space in the middle of a room marked by a plush rug where the courtesan would perform. I shuddered to think that it was intended for me.

Last but certainly not least, was the bed.

"My lord," I entered a deep curtsy, then spoke using the tricks Madam Selene had taught me to sound softer.

He hadn't answered, but his gaze was fixed on me as I stepped into the room and assumed my position in the center.

"Might I pour you a drink?" I offered as instructed.

I stood there silently as he studied me closely without offering a response. I was so uncomfortable I wanted desperately to retreat into myself, but with nowhere to go, I just stood there averting his gaze.

"Go ahead, pour," he told me with that commanding voice of his.

I took some unsteady steps forward and retrieved the pitcher on the table.

"You're trembling," he'd noted, but I carried on, ultimately successful in pouring more wine in his cup. "Pour yourself a cup and take a seat," he told me. I obeyed.

When I was sitting some distance from him on the cushion, he ordered me closer.

"Try it," he ordered when we were close enough to satisfy him. "It's very good wine."

I took a sip and agreed with a nod accompanied by an awkward smile. It really was good wine; that much I had to admit. Better than anything I'd tasted before.

He suddenly leaned in closer. "You're a very interesting one, aren't you?"

My heart beat quicker and quicker at the sight of a man's face so close to mine. I hoped it would stray no closer.

All that talk about being in control here. I certainly didn't feel in control.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I requested you today," he spoke after retreating to take a sip from his cup.

My mind had been in too much turmoil to wonder about anything except my current situation, but it was true. I'd been here long enough to know who some of the regulars were.

Sabine had her captain, and the spymaster here belonged to Sybil. His favor had earned her a place among the stars as well as a personal room.

"Why did you ask for me?" I asked him.

"We didn't get the chance to speak last time, did we?" He asked rhetorically, "I've heard talk of Isolde's newest courtesan since then. A rare beauty, some say. But that is not what makes you special, is it?"

What game was he playing, I wondered. I knew he knew about me after all.

"My lord, tell me what is on your mind."

"'My lord,'" he chuckled to himself. "Not many people outside court know this, but I wasn't always a lord. I rose to this position by performing a great service to this kingdom."

I watched quietly as his hand slowly but surely made its way over to my loose strand of hair, gently tucking it behind my ears.

"I wonder whether someone in your position cannot do the same thing I did," he said to me.

"I don't understand," I said back to him.

"Now that you've attended to me, I'm sure word will spread that Isolde's dazzling courtesan is taking guests," he explained. "I imagine you're about to be very popular among the members of court."

His fingers trailed downward, eventually making their way to my lap, toying with the slit of my robe.

"We both know how free these lords are with information when plied with alcohol and feminine attention," he continued while I sat there nervous and cautious.

Of course I knew what he was saying and where he was headed. Just because I'd lived in a simple orphanage didn't mean I was naive. On top of that, the topic of information shared by guests had come up here at the pavilion. The thing was, it all sounded so dangerous, and my body was sounding warning bells at me.

"My lord, I don't—" I'd tried to express my concern, but he'd cut me off.

"Should you become privy to such information, I want you to think about how service to the right person could be rewarded," he told me. "I imagine there are things that you want. If nothing else, you don't have to be a slave forever."

It was around that time that my own goals began to overshadow my concern. It had been months without a path to Orin, but here it was. An undeniable path, no matter how winding or treacherous.

"I don't want to be a slave forever," I told him.

"Who would?" he replied. "I could grant that wish. You only have to be of service. I trust you know how?"

I nodded.

"Good," he smiled before turning back to his cup. "Spend the night drinking with me now. We mustn't give people the impression that I was unhappy with your attendance."

The spymaster himself leaned in to fill my cup with the expensive wine and placed it in my hand.

And so we drank together.

When I was sufficiently filled with wine, I asked, perhaps recklessly, "What is your name, my lord? It is only right that I know the name of the man in whose hand my fate lies."

He chuckled to himself, seemingly unaffected by the wine we'd both drunk. "Very well. I am Cassian Valerius."

=^..^=

Cassian exited the room over an hour after I'd first walked in, leaving me on the cushion with an almost empty pitcher of wine but otherwise intact.

No, that wasn't entirely true. Other than leaving me with much to think about, he'd also removed my hair from its bun and asked me to wear it that way as I left.

That hadn't happened yet, of course, as I was in no rush to escape my thoughts of what I was going to do.

According to Cassian, I was going to be entertaining men more often from this moment on. I hated the thought of it. I didn't want to be in the presence of any man, not while I looked like this.

But I had to if I was ever going to earn enough of Cassian's favor to find my way out of here and, more importantly, to find Orin.

The door opened once again, and in walked Madam Selene.

I'd quickly stood to greet her but was almost immediately knocked off balance by the wine. I'd staggered but quickly caught myself.

Madam Selene inspected the room, her attention shifting quickly from the untouched bed to the unused vanity area and then to the wine cups and back to me.

"You know the wine is intended for the guest, not for you," she commented.

"He insisted I join him," I replied.

"Come with me," she said while already turning away. "Lady Isolde would like a word."

=^..^=

I followed closely behind her as we walked through the hall of doors. Madam Selene hadn't given me time to fix my hair, so I walked the length of that hall with my hair as wild as it was and in full view of courtesans and guests settling in for their own intimate sessions.

Our destination was a door on the other end of the upper floor, beyond which I'd never been.

Madam Selene knocked briefly before opening and leading me through. The very first thing I noticed was the stark contrast between the heavily perfumed smell of the rest of the pavilion and this room that smelled like old parchment.

Despite that, it held much of the same design language as did the rest of the pavilion.

A large, carved oak desk dominated the room, behind which Lady Isolde, who I'd only seen a handful of times, sat on a thronelike chair of velvet and dark wood.

Two simpler chairs were situated on the other side of the desk, but Lady Isolde wouldn't invite either of us into them.

She wouldn't even look away from a ledger in front of her for some time after we walked in. Similar ledgers lined the wall behind her on shelves, contributing to the smell that filled the room.

The wall opposite her and beside me held a grand tapestry that illustrated a scene from a centuries older courtesan house. The girls there were dressed in expensive silk robes with their faces painted ghoulishly white.

"What did you speak about with the spymaster?" Lady Isolde asked.

There it was. I knew I had to make a decision. To come clean or to keep it to myself.

If I genuinely thought there was a path to Orin and our freedom by telling her everything Cassian and I had spoken about, I would have.

"He just asked me to drink with him," I lied.

"Nothing else?" She finally looked up from that ledger. "That whole time?"

I shook my head. "He just wanted to drink right from the moment I walked in."

"And he didn't touch you?"

"No, my lady," I replied, "N-not in that way."

"In what way then?"

"He only undid my bun," I told her, "said he preferred it this way."

"Lord Valerius isn't known to be a very physical person, but still, what you've just described seems like a waste of his time, does it not, Selene?" Lady Isolde asked.

"I agree," Madam Selene answered.

"Very well," Lady Isolde turned her attention back to me. "You may go."

I briefly curtsied before turning to leave. I had made my decision, and I was going to have to deal with it.

"Selene, a moment," Lady Isolde called out.

"Yes, my lady," Selene answered before turning to whisper to me, "Go back to the dressing room and fix your hair this instant."

"Yes, Madam."

=^..^=

I had pretty much been accosted by Lyra as soon as I walked into the dorm that evening.

"Tell me everything," she screamed enthusiastically, "Was it Lord Valerius? It was, wasn't it? Did you do it with him? How was it?"

"You know you're dead, right?" Cressida voiced while beginning her nightly routine, "It's a shame, really? Just when I was starting to get used to your presence."

"Don't scare her," Bria argued.

"If Anya was here, she could tell you what happened to the last girl that offended one of them," Cressida continued.

"Them?" I asked.

"The stars" Lyra helped.

"What happened to her?" Bria asked.

"I heard—" Cressida started in a hushed tone, "She's a blind beggar now."

"No way," Lyra laughed.

"Go on then if you don't believe me," Cressida said as she tied her hair into a bun at the top of her head. "Ask Anya when she returns-- if Rowen survives that long."

"Why? I haven't done anything to offend any of them, have I?" I asked. Was it Cassius?

"Lord Valerius belongs to Sybil, idiot." Cressida barked. "You have no idea the shit that you're in. If I were you, I would go apologize right now."

"Oh come on," Bria scoffed, "She's not that unreasonable. Rowen has nothing to do with who requests her."

"Alright then, don't listen to me." Cressida dramatically threw her hands up. "Let's see how long he lasts."

"Cressida, we all agreed to call Rowen 'her.'" Bria frowned, "You have to admit it makes more sense."

She shrugged in response, "I'm just acknowledging reality. Besides, I think he has bigger problems."

I hadn't thought about it before, but now I had to admit I was a bit worried by Cressida's warnings. It was ridiculous to think that Sybil would be so unreasonable, but since that encounter with Sabine, I couldn't entirely discount it.

So I spent the night dreading a move against me from Sybil.

That worry carried on till the next morning and was amplified when Anya woke up and corroborated Cressida's testimony.

The stares and whispers at breakfast didn't help. I'd thought I had been getting past this, but here I was, getting attention that rivaled my first days at the pavilion.

Every sound made me tense up. The food bowls on the wooden table, the scraping of the chairs on the stone floor. The whispers.

My mind fixated on each moment as though it would be the one where a vengeful courtesan would decide to take her revenge on me over something that was beyond my control.

I only began to calm down when breakfast wrapped up uneventfully and I walked into the usual dressing room in the main wing to find Madam Selene as she always was, dutifully at a desk.

"Good, you're here." She turned to look at me. "Your training has been postponed today. You have a guest to attend to."

"A guest?" I asked.

She nodded as she rose to her feet. "Follow me," she said simply as she walked past me and out the door.

Naturally, I was utterly confused considering that it was only morning and the pavilion was several hours away from opening.

Still, I followed obediently, hopeful for answers. We passed into the atrium and up the stairs into the upper floors. The quiet of the pavilion was very different from the lively atmosphere of the night. It also seemed entirely different illuminated by the sunlight instead of oil lamps.

I fought off the urge to inquire about who this guest was as we walked past several doors in the hall of doors.

I had a feeling I would know soon enough.

"Come back to the dressing room when you're done here," she instructed me when we finally made a stop near one of the doors. "We have much to talk about."

I stood there almost dumbfounded as she turned around and left me all alone in front of that door. None of this made any sense no matter how I looked at it.

I was in no condition to attend to a guest as I was. I'd brushed my hair that morning, but there was no carefully chosen hairstyle that Madam Selene considered a must.

I was dressed in only a simple linen dress. Granted, it possessed a subtle flowery pattern and suited my slight frame before flaring into a large skirt, but nothing like the intricacy of the velvet robe. And if that wasn't enough, my face wasn't painted to perfection either.

I judged that there had to be a trick of some sort.

Either way, I wouldn't figure it out until I opened the door. So I did.

I scanned the room and audibly gasped, bringing both my hands to cover my mouth. He was standing near the cushion in the room as if defiantly refusing to use it.

He looked a bit worse for wear, but it was definitely him.

"Orin!" I screamed his name and ran into his arms.

=^..^=

I held onto him so tightly, burying my head in his chest. After spending the last few months desperate for a way to find him, there he was, showing up out of nowhere.

I thought back to the last time I'd seen him at the hands of the slavers and only held on tighter.

So imagine my surprise when I felt resistance. He was pulling away from me.

It wasn't until we were a whole arm's length away from each other and I was floating in despair over the possibility that he might consider my appearance too much of a shock that he seemed to finally get a good look at my face, only partially illuminated by the sole oil lamp in the room.

"Rowen?" The surprise on his face was undeniable, as I'm sure was the worry on mine.

What would I do if he couldn't get over my new circumstances? How would I carry on without my best friend? Would I even want to?

I forced a terribly awkward smile in his direction that pleaded for his understanding.

Unnecessary, as it turned out, because a moment later, he whispered under his breath, "It's really you," just before pulling me into a tighter hug than the one I'd managed earlier.

I held on tightly to him once again, and for a moment, it was as though the nightmare had ended. If I closed my eyes, I might have opened them to find myself in front of the orphanage. Maybe, none of it had happened at all.

But it had. We were standing in one of the rooms of the velvet pavilion, and the nightmare was far from over.

We separated long enough to examine one another before either one of us said a word. He was wearing a brown tunic and dark grey breeches, an excellent choice to hide any potential stains. Unlike the routine of a courtesan, for him there was no expectation or even possibility of cleanliness.

Despite that, he still shone in my eyes. Especially his eyes, which now seemed just a bit more wet than they had been a moment ago.

Another difference in our respective appearances was how much shorter he wore his hair now. If we didn't have bigger things to worry about now, I would have considered his cropped hair a great sadness. I'd always appreciated that shaggy look on him after all.

"How are you here?" I finally worked up the courage to ask him.

"I don't really know; I was just pulled away from my work this morning and brought here," he spoke quickly in hurried whispers. "I hadn't expected to see you here, not to mention looking like this."

"I guess I do look different, huh?" I spoke in awkward embarrassment.

"I'll say," he replied matter-of-factly, "This is a courtesan house, no? Do they have you working here? Like this?"

I knew Orin, and I knew exactly how he looked when he was getting upset. That look was as plain as day on his face.

"I-- Nothing--" I paused, unable to find the words to explain in a way that wouldn't set him off. "They're training me to be a courtesan, yes, but—"

"Isn't that women's work?" he interrupted.

"I mean, usually it is, but what can I say?"

"They expect you to—" his face flickered with disbelief, "With men?"

"I don't know, okay?" I fussed when I noticed his mood turn, "Maybe. I'm just taking it a day at a time."

When he went to say something with the obvious intention of arguing, I interrupted, "Besides, I was more worried about finding you. I didn't know what happened to you after I was sold."

"Rowen, I take care of horses!" He'd said in a slightly raised voice before looking around cautiously, then walking up to close the door I'd left open, "I'm not the one training to be a whore. You're the one that needs worrying about."

"It's not like that," I found myself defending my place in all this. "We don't just sleep with random men, Orin. It's conversation, negotiation, company."

"We? Who's 'we'?" He raised his voice again. "This won't do." He reached out and grabbed my wrist. "We're getting out of here," he proclaimed.

"I'm not allowed to leave," I pulled as he dragged. "I don't think we can just walk out the front door."

"I'll work something out," he announced as he hurried me towards the door.

"You mean like you worked out a way for us to leave the orphanage and build a life in the city?" I snapped.

It wasn't as though I didn't want to leave. I just didn't think it could be that easy. And I knew Orin; I knew he tended to disregard everything else when he had his mind set on something. I also knew I had to be a bit harsh to stop him.

Maybe if I'd been harsh back then, we wouldn't be in this mess.

"How can you stay here?" he asked me after letting go of my arm. "Rowen, look at yourself. You should be fighting tooth and nail to get thrown out. Why aren't you?"

There was a pause, which signaled to me that it wasn't intended as a rhetorical question. In his head, he would never let this happen to him.

"Do you want this?" he asked following a prolonged silence.

"Of course I don't want this," I barked in response.

"Okay," he replied, "now what?"

That was the question. I took a few steps away from him and answered simply, "I don't know."

I needed to think. Without a word, I made my way to the bed at the other end of the room and sat on its edge.

He retreated for a time, seemingly lost in thought, and after some time, he spoke again, "Other than the brute at the door, I spotted two more guards on my way in. If we can ambush the brute, maybe I can distract the others while you make a run for it."

I thought for a bit and decided the 'brute' had to have been Haskel. If there were two others besides him, the chance of success seemed slim even for Orin.

"Even if it works, do we then spend every waking moment evading slave catchers?" I asked him.

As far as I understood it, every house that owned slaves kept a registry of their slaves with descriptions and likenesses. For a place such as this that dealt with so many, Lady Isolde would surely have no trouble setting catchers on our trail.

I'd hoped for him to see reason, but he only seemed frustrated. "You know, Rowen, I would have thought that would be a better fate than wearing dresses and pleasing men."

Silence once again. We hadn't seen each other in months. This wasn't at all how I had expected a reunion to be.

"What are you trying to say?" I folded my arms and asked.

"You tell me," he replied almost immediately, "do you have a plan, or are you meaning to stay here forever?"

"I do have a plan actually."

"Go on then," he jested, "before it's nighttime and you have to get to work."

"You know I didn't ask for this, right?" It was my turn to raise my voice. "I'm doing the best I can too."

He didn't respond, so I carried on.

"Not all of us can just punch our way through everything," I frowned.

"Rowen," he stepped forward, "I'm not holding that against you. You know I never have. I said I would protect you, and that's what I'm here trying to do, but—"

"But what?"

"It doesn't seem like you want me to do that anymore," he answered while still advancing. "You're telling me to just leave you here in this place. I know what goes on in here."

"I'm not asking you not to help me," I clarified just as he was back standing in front of me. I thought he might take a seat on the bed beside me, but he seemed intent on staying on his feet. "I want to get out of here; I just want us to do it right, you know?"

"I was rude earlier." He shook his head and seemed to be apologizing without saying it in so many words. "You mentioned you had a plan."

"I do," my own expression softened, "although I don't know if I can even trust it."

In what was little louder than whispers, I told Orin about the spymaster and his offer.

In my retelling, I'd briefly considered that his presence here was the spymaster's doing, perhaps, an act in good faith to strengthen my trust in our arrangement, but ultimately decided that he would have had no way to know of Orin's existence.

All signs pointed to a move by Lady Isolde. She was dangling my best friend in front of me, and at the time, I could only guess at the reason why.

"So you're to serve these men and gather information for him?" Orin asked, "And what, he'll have you freed as a result? You can't really be trusting of that."

"What choice do I have?" I countered, "Until that offer, I'd found no other means out of this place."

"Rowen, these people double-cross each other for a living," he said bluntly, "and how long are you supposed to work for him anyway before he sees fit to have you freed?"

Of course I had no answer to that question, so I didn't bother saying anything. I knew better than anyone that I was at the spymaster's mercy. I probably shouldn't have agreed so quickly, but I had been desperate.

"Not to mention that you'd be serving men like him the whole time, having God knows what done to you," he continued. "I am not okay with this."

"Well, I don't have anything else," I complained.

"I know, I know." He stepped away from me once again in deep thought, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. "Are you being treated well here at least?" he asked while turning around to face me.

"It's fine," I turned my gaze to the floor. "It's nothing I can't handle. The others treat me as well as can be expected. I made a friend too, so there's that."

I trusted Orin to know that was a significant detail. After all, I'd only ever had one other friend.

"A courtesan?" he asked. I nodded. "And you live here with them? Dressed like that all the time?"

"Yes, what's with all the questions?" I asked with a hint of annoyance in my voice, "Can't we get past this? We haven't seen each other in three months, and I've yet to hear anything about you."

"Well, it's hard to, given how much you've changed already." I watched his gaze shift from one part of me to the next. "Do you even notice how you're sitting like a girl? Or how you're talking?"

I dare say he was right. I hadn't noticed any of what he'd pointed out, and it had required some effort to stop sitting in the manner that had been forced on me by Ione and Elodie.

"You're already as much of a girl as any I've ever met, and twice as beautiful."

Even in the dimly lit room, I could just make out the embarrassed expression on his face just before he turned away.

I was thankful he was looking away so he couldn't see my face turn several shades of pink.

The moment the thought of what Orin had just said entered my mind, it was all I could think about. Maybe if he hadn't been so embarrassed about it, I might have thought he was only saying it to make a point. Now I had no such defense. I was faced with the thought that he considered me beautiful, and I didn't know how to feel about it.

Hurt? Proud? Insulted?

"So no, I can't just get past it," he finished, choosing to not address the words he'd uttered.

"Fine," I replied quietly.

I struggled to look at him because each time we did and I saw him waiting, or perhaps begging me to say something, I would squirm. Not in the way I did when the guests touched me wantonly.

No, this was different. Very different.

"Rowen," he spoke again when there had been enough of an awkward silence between us.

"Yes?" I somehow found the courage to look up at him.

"You expect me to leave you here in the hands of your spymaster?" He looked intently at me. Every last bit of discomfort was clear off his face; he was serious. "I don't think I can do that."

"Orin,"

"If you're staying here, then I'm staying," he told me. "I won't leave."

"They won't let you," I said softly. "You know that."

"Then we go with my plan," he seemed to steel his resolve. I watched him take a few steps towards me and outstretch his hand, hoping I would take it.

And maybe I should have. Maybe we would have made it past Haskel and the others, made it into the street and away from the guards. If I'd taken his hand, maybe we would have been free.

Instead, I got up, and I hugged him one last time, unsure of when next I would see him.

He held me closely, a sign that he'd gotten my answer.

"Trust me," I told him anyway, "I'll be fine. You just be safe, okay?"

"I can't promise that," he replied while we yet held on tightly. "I will promise that I will find a way to get you out of here."

No doubt it would have been hard to manage being a slave himself, but somehow I believed him on account of his one-track mind.

When we separated for the last time, I urged him, "Don't do anything stupid and get yourself arrested or worse."

"Don't worry, I won't do anything 'stupid.'" He flashed me that grin that reminded me of the old days. I couldn't help but smile in response.

I left Orin standing there, and I dared not look back in fear that it would weaken my resolve.

I was going to make my way out of here in a way that wouldn't put Orin in danger, and for now that meant playing the spymaster's games.

When I exited the room to find Haskel standing watch, I knew, at least for now, I had made the right decision.

=^..^=

"I can see why you were so obsessed with him," Madame Selene had said as soon as I walked into the dressing room. "He's a very handsome young man."

I had no response to give her, not yet. The events that had transpired since I first walked into that room and saw him until the moment Haskel sent me on my way and walked in to retrieve Orin still played over and over again in my head.

"I trust it was a happy occasion, the two of you being reunited," she continued. "It doesn't have to be the last time."

As was probably her intention, that had piqued my interest. Madam Selene had never been one to beat around the bush, so that alone was suspicious.

"You're saying I can see him again?" I asked just as she was getting up from her chair and making her way over to me.

"All I would have to do is give the order," she replied before ushering me into a chair and grabbing a hairbrush.

"What do I need to do for you to-- give the order?" I asked after she'd made the first pass with the hairbrush through my increasingly long hair.

"The spymaster seems very interested in you," she spoke softly while gently wielding the brush. "I know he asked something of you last night. What was it?"

I hadn't been able to hide my hesitation because Madam Selene continued speaking only a moment later, "I told you you would never be equipped to attend to him. This is why. You wouldn't be the first girl to be used and discarded by him. You certainly won't be the last. Now I'm giving you another chance to tell me what he asked of you."

The whole time she spoke, she'd remained calmly brushing my hair. It unsettled me.

In truth, Orin's distrust of the arrangement had also shaken some of my own faith in the spymaster's offer.

And with Madam Selene holding access to my best friend hostage, there wasn't a chance I would have ever refused. No matter how much was uncertain, time with Orin was the one thing I could count on to always be good.

"You'll really let me see him?" I asked, unsure of where to place my trust.

"Against my better judgement," she replied, "if it was up to me, I would have you punished for lying to Lady Isolde, but alas, she considers the spymaster's interest in you something of value and is willing to go this far."

So for the second time that day, I revealed what had transpired the night before. Not that there had been much of it in the first place. Cassius and I hadn't exactly engaged in any real details.

"He doesn't trust you," Madam Selene had commented after I'd insisted nothing more had been said. "The kind of man he is, he likely foresaw you sharing this information with me."

"So, will you let me see Orin again?" I asked her just as she was arranging my hair to let the strands fall over my shoulder.

"In due time," she replied, "For now, focus on gaining his trust. Give him the information he wants, but report to me each time you do, and don't keep anything from me again, is that clear?"

I nodded.

"Excellent." She stepped away, seemingly pleased with both the smoothness of my hair and my response. "Go shower and get some rest. I want you on the floor today."

I turned sharply to face her, making no attempts to hide my uncertainty. It was hard enough being dressed like a girl and being put on display, but I was far from ready to be available to the guests. Not that I should ever be ready.

"Just remember everything I taught you," she offered an expression that told me she would hear no complaints. "Go now, get some rest. It's going to be an important night."

=^..^=

And so it was. So much was different that evening. For one, Selene had taken up the task to prepare me for the night ahead. My hair, face, nails, and everything received extra care tonight.

I was thankful at least for her assistance because I wasn't sure I'd have been able to manage it with how tense I was.

One by one, the other girls finished their routines and left the dressing room to populate the pavilion floor just before it was time for the doors to be opened.

Soon, it was just Madam Selene and I that remained. She worked as though she'd set out with a goal to make me irresistible, working the paint around my eyes, cheeks, and mouth with special precision.

It wasn't until I got to see myself in the polished mirror that I was faced with the fruits of her labor.

As I prepared to head out into the atrium, all I could think was what Orin would say if he saw me now.

=^..^=