Page 5 of Crown of the Courtesan

“I’m a mercenary,” he says, almost as a warning. “There are no repercussions that I fear. Besides, you already break the rules. What’s a little more?”

I try to argue in vain, but he doesn’t let me get a word in.

“Sure, there are those who will be furious, and it might be complicated at first, but what in life isn’t?” His brow furrows, raw emotion bordering on anger splintering across the fine features of his angular nose and high cheekbones, turning his usually warm countenance into something I don’t recognize. I can’t help but wonder how the man before me compares to the mercenary he presents to the world.

“It’s not that easy.” I withdraw farther across the room as he turns his face to follow the sound of my voice.

“If you want to get away, I’ll buy you a home in a different port city where you’ll be safe. It’d be much bigger than this shack⁠—”

“Lir.”

He takes a large breath and whispers, “There’s no point in trying to argue, is there?”

“No.”

“All right then.” His voice rings with a quiet finality.

I drop a tactile book about sea monsters I commissioned, and it hits the table with a thud.

Hooking my handbasket over my arm, I stop in the doorway to look at the man who deserves better than my pitiful excuses. His sun-kissed smile would make some woman feel very safe and loved someday.

But it wouldn’t be me.

Because the minute the veil of mystery lifts and he learns of my manipulative ways, every bit of warmth would disappear from that gaze. His feelings only grow because he knows nothing. I give him one last glance to remember him, promising myself that I will not come back.

On the other side of the door, the whispers rise from the waves crashing on the shore. They intensify as they mix with the slowing rain. Oddly familiar, like voices from a distant dream, they have always accompanied me. I run out of the cottage and into the unknown the Bidding Ceremony will bring.

Three

The Bidding House stands like a monolith in the wealthiest neighborhood of Vale Row. It’s a white-stone manor covered with honeysuckle and crowned with a ruby-tiled roof. Sprawling and opulent, this is the only home I’ve ever known.

Magnolia trees on the trimmed lawn rustle their greetings as I click the front gate closed. To escape the rain, I dash down the brick walkway and up the entrance steps to the massive double doors.

The warm brass of the handle barely touches my fingertips before I notice something beneath it. An official scroll bearing the Alexandrian Royal Seal sits underneath the lever. I hesitate and look down the street. One on every door. They stand out like little flags, begging for investigation.

Hands shaking, I break the wax. My sharp, manicured fingernails dig into the heavy paper, ripping it accidentally, but I don’t care.

~Kingdom of Alexandria~

City of Alexandria

Announcement:

Tonight, marking the end of Summer-Set and the beginning of Ore Harvest, we behold the annual Bidding Ceremony, a tradition of the highest honor. Time soon expires to place your wagers on which High Lords will bid on which Lady Courtesans. Twenty-five debutantes, fresh from training at their academies, will perform for your pleasure. The possibility of a new High Lady Courtesan this season makes the stakes riskier than before. Everything shall be revealed on this auspicious eve.

May the Spirit Goddess bless your chances.

Warning:

By nightfall, place all bets with the Royal Secretary’s Office for official tax purposes. Any wagers without the proper seal are subject to fines or possible imprisonment in the dungeons.

Entering the marbled foyer, I clench the piece of parchment in my fist one last time before tossing the crumpled ball into the nearby fireplace. Typically, this room brims with Keepers waiting for Lady Courtesans, but tonight it sits empty.

Despite its name, the Bidding House is not where the Bidding Ceremony occurs. Though our manor can boast small-to-medium parties—making an invitation all the more elusive—it’s not large enough to hold every member of the nobility, especially when you add traveling beast lords and ladies who are larger than the typical human.

Trying not to trip on my soaked skirts, I sprint up the grand staircase to reach the dormitories above. My boots squelch, making me cringe with each step.

Like always, this day affects every courtesan differently. Some courtesans leave their doors open while they gossip with their fellows, giggling and enjoying themselves. Their complexions shimmer with a luminescent radiance, a clear indication of their good mood. But it isn’t always giddy behavior that peeks out from the dormitory chambers. On the third floor, a courtesan with a faded glow stares into her mirror, edging her eyes with too much kohl liner and snapping at anyone who dares to interrupt her process.