"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.
=^..^=