Page 6 of Crown of the Courtesan

Our glow, bestowed by the Spirit-Fae Cathedral, comes directly from the Rite of Allurement, which we drink after the ritual dance. If we don’t take the potion from the priestess’s goblet, our skin loses its shine, and our wombs grow heavy and fertile. This drink not only instills the gift of enticement but also protects us from untimely pregnancies.

I always make sure to swallow every last drop.

As I climb the last set of marble stairs, I quicken my pace past a closed door with sobbing behind it. The strength of my hearing is uncanny, but listening in on their problems isn’t what I want to do.

We know the role we’re born into. As the daughters of previous Lady Courtesans, we shouldn’t be surprised—not when we come from a lineage stretching a thousand years.

When we were children, we had no choice but to attend the courtesan academies designed for our education. Named after our great city, there’s even one attached to the Bidding House. Some academies are also scattered across the countryside, but they all provide the same training. Like a sorority of sisters, we focus on the arts of dance, song, and conversation under the guidance of strict rules. And even stricter madames.

On the flip side, had we been born boys, we might’ve been arranged into a prestigious position within a warrior legion or naval fleet by a powerful father, because it’s common knowledge that courtesan sons are born with more skill, more strength, and more cunning due to the Rite’s infusion power.

Yet despite our exceptional beauty and charm, daughters are nary a thought to those who sired them.

Our role is never to be changed, no matter how badly we rebel against the rules that keep us pinned down. Especially not after the last time a Lady Courtesan broke free of her rank. It ended in disaster, nearly ruining the reign of King Xander Metalla III.

After his first wife’s death, the lonely monarch placed a bid on a courtesan named Lady Theodora. Disregarding the Spirit-Fae Cathedral laws, they secretly married, to the shock of nobility and commonfolk alike. Surprisingly, all seemed well for a while—that is, until she either died or disappeared without a trace. Some say the king lost his powers the night she vanished, but that gossip is the treasonous sort. The sort that lands you in a dungeon.

And so, the Courtesan Queen reminds us why our fate is never to stray, and why any rules that had grown lax were tightened to an inflexible standard. These days, if a courtesan tried something similar, the priestesses would come for her—and she wouldn’t return.

My ears prickle in the corridor leading to my chambers. When I hear my name, I slow my footsteps to a trailing pace. The sound comes from the room next to mine.

“Oh! Who does Tabitha think she is?” Vennisa, my dormitory neighbor, asks vehemently. “Taking off all afternoon when she knows she has duties to perform.”

I freeze, listening. There is a mumbled response I can’t quite understand.

“But don’t worry—she won’t be High Lady Courtesan much longer. The Grand Chancellor has finally seen her true ways.”

“But those are just rumors,” says the other female voice, softer and uncertain.

Vennisa counters, “He confessed it to me himself.” My heart sinks. Vennisa is unbearable, but she wouldn’t lie about something like this. She’s too particular about following rules. It’s why her nasty attitude is so smug. “He’s fed up being her Keeper and says she isn’t the same as she was when he first started bidding on her.” She clicks her tongue. “And after all he did to raise her up when everyone knows Tabitha’s a foundling.”

I sprint into my chambers and slam the door, not wanting to hear anything else. Tossing the basket of novels and scandal sheets onto my bedspread, they tumble in a heap. My hands cover my ears as I rock back and forth in my squishy boots, trying to focus on the water between my toes.

My mind races with thoughts from the past. I know I shouldn’t react this way—I should be stronger—but the truth sends me over the edge.

No, I’m not the same.

It’s been ten years since I was a debutante. What’s changed is that I’m a full-grown woman who now understands the duplicitous nature of his controlling touch. Eyes closed tightly, I take deep, deep breaths, focusing on the air flowing in and out of my rising chest.

But Vennisa’s voice penetrates the paneled wall.

Through my hands.

Through my mind.

She continues like an unstoppable force, “Tabitha’s been lying to everyone about the state of their relationship. You’ll find she has a nasty temper and violent tendencies. And though he’s not much better, the Chancellor had much to say about it during our carriage ride yesterday.”

Usually, my sensitive hearing is an advantage when I’m eavesdropping on my Keeper or Madame Phyrne. Now it’s a curse plaguing my sanity.

A gasp escapes the other girl. “I did notice she’s not a very good High Lady Courtesan. Ever since I arrived, her leadership has been terrible—she stays quiet and avoids everyone. We don’t know her at all…” I recognize the second voice as one of the younger girls. Only a month out of training, she’ll debut tonight.

Coils of shame unfurl in my stomach.

With my hands still over my ears, I mentally beg their voices to disappear.

I stumble backward, my spine hitting the wall farthest from Vennisa’s chambers. The panelling scrapes my clothing as I slide and collapse onto the shining wooden floorboards. My palms burn on impact as they slap down.

“The Chancellor corrected her, and then she assaulted him⁠—”