I don’t look at Boralas. My finger points over my head to the sideboard behind me, the evidence of my evening activities scattered across the scarred wood in pieces of silver. “Of course.”
“Good.” His eyes linger and I pull my knees up in instinctive response, the rest of me hidden beneath layers of soap-filmed water. Not that it matters. There’s no part of me that Boralas hasn’t thoroughly inspected over the years. “Johan is here. Finish off and get ready. Wear the silver robe this time.”
Heat sweeps over me, heat and cold that battle for dominance inside my chest. Straightening my shoulders, I pin him with alook. One that sometimes works, but is more often dismissed. Familiarity breeds control under this roof. “I’m done for the night.”
He bristles, and I know which way it’ll land this evening. “You’re done when Isayyou’re done.”
When I don’t move, Boralas waves a hand, stepping inside as the door swings closed with a soft thud, sealing me in with him. His eyes sweep over my exposed ankle. “Hurry up. He’s waiting. You’ll use the azure rooms, since yours need to be cleaned. I’ll take you.”
The azure rooms. Boralas’s attempt to recreate the ocean inside a room. There’s so much silk inside from floor to ceiling that one could lose themselves in the layers without even trying.
Fine. I nod. “But I need to speak with you. Tonight, when I’m done.”
“About what?” My acquiescence received, Boralas is already heading back for the door, ready to fetch the deep-pocketed merchant who has enough money to pay for regular sessionswith his favorite pet, before he returns to lead me to him like an offering.
Two customers in one night is unusual. Boralas must be delighted.
It’s nights like these that I wish he’d put me back on the stage. I may have hated the sweltering heat when I was there, the leers, the bawdy shouts—but I didn’tknowwhat sweltering meant. Not until I was pinned beneath the bulk of an awkwardly thrusting male, his hands gripping my wings and his breath hot in my ear.
Given the choice, I would choose the stage every time, and Boralas knows it. But I make him far more money here.
All of my performances are conducted in the back rooms, these days. While Boralas plays on the rumors of an Asterian faeyte to pull wide-eyed, curious viewers in through the front door, I’m reserved for the gaze of those with only the deepest pockets. Or those who Boralas needs to keep happy, the ones who can grease the palms of the Terrosan officials to look the other way when presented with evidence of our treatment behind the walls of the Murenger.
I learned that the hard way. A little money, a little sex, and most will look the other way no matter how many depravities take place under their nose. “I have the money, Boralas. For my indenture.”
He pauses at that, his fingers already curled around the doorframe. The breath stills in my lungs, my hands pausing in their lathering. His silence continues, and I brace myself. “It’s legitimate. You agreed to the price, and I have it.”
His ruddy face holds no sway as he turns back to me. “Did I, now?”
My stomach turns over again. “Boralas. Youpromised.”
“Maybe.” His head tilts to the side. “But that was when you were on the stage, Selene. Now I have much more to lose, if youleave. Prices are increasing everywhere, you know. I’m not sure the price we negotiated years ago is fair.”
My fingers begin to shake.
It’s taken meeight yearsof scraping, of gathering up coins tossed in my direction, of my so-called visitors stealing enough pleasure that they threw money at me without thought for how I would use it. Of fighting to hide it from Boralas, even from the rest of the men and women behind these walls—all of us trapped by Boralas’s insatiable thirst for more money, more power, more. Alwaysmore. “It was what we agreed. And the amount is more than fair, even now.”
Five hundred Terrosan crowns.
It’s afortune. Enough that I could set myself up on my own, without need for any man to dictate my days or nights. Enough to buy my solitude, and some gods-damnedpeace. But I’ll give him every single one of those crowns in exchange for an open door that I can walk through without looking back.
I’ll take nothing with me, my shoulders lighter for it. I’ll shed this place like a snake sheds its skin, leaving the hollow husk behind without a second look.
But even as I think it, the possibility fades. My shoulders curve inward at the look on his face.
You fool, Selene. You should have picked your moment better.
No. I should have known better. Known that Boralas was only humoring me, tossing out a number to keep me quiet. He’ll not allow me to leave.
Not when the price he can sell my body for lingers in his eyes. Not when the sheets are still dirtied in the room behind me and he waits to take me somewhere else to earn his coin for him for the second time in a single evening.
“Very well.” Slowly, I return to washing, rinsing myself off with the now-icy water. Although I’m not sure it’s the water making me tremble. “Perhaps we could speak on it again tomorrow.”
He eyes me at my acquiescence, his expression torn between relief and suspicion. “You know how much I value your work, Selene. I don’t wish to be at odds with you.”
My lips twitch. A lie, and a truth. Boralas doesn’t give a damn about being at odds with me. But he values my body enough to at least attempt niceties. He’s worked out over the years that politeness buys far more with me than his brutishness. And damaged goods are worth less. “You don’t need to waste your breath on pleasantries. I’m not going anywhere this evening, it seems.”
When I stand, cold water cascading away, the chain clunks. The copper band around my ankle tugs awkwardly as I climb out. “I’ll need a few minutes to prepare for Johan.”
