A romantic fool, Clyde used to call him.
Oh let him dream, Lucas would retort. Not quite a defense, but Aidon was grateful for it nonetheless.
Seven hells, he missed his friends. His sister. His parents. Even his general.
He had left them with a mess. He wondered how they were faring—if they suspected where he’d gone, or if they found him just as much a coward as he found himself.
“Good afternoon,” a raspy voice sounded from his left, pulling him from his tangled thoughts. An older woman swept to his side, her purple silk dress billowing with the movement. She was short, but she carried herself with an air of authority that made her look taller than she was.
The madam, then.
Her hair was gray, and it curled in large ringlets that cascaded down her back. Her pale skin was weathered, her veins sharp in the hand that she laid on Aidon’s arm. “Can I help you find something to suit your tastes?”
It went against every instinct Aidon had to not duck his head, to not try to hide his face lest the madam recognize him. But it would only draw more attention. So instead he held her gaze as he tilted his head toward Liam and Will, beckoning them with a wave of his hand. “My companions and I are looking for a more…collaborative…experience.”
He watched carefully for any sign of recognition in the madam’s face. There was nothing there but a gleeful smile, her eyes roving across the three of them as if she were calculating just how much coin they would garner her establishment.
“Unfortunately,” Aidon added, “we are a bit tight on finances.” He shot the madam a wry grin. “War doesn’t do the pockets any favors, does it?”
Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed in distaste. “There are cheaper options further outside the market—”
“Yet we hear your establishment is the best,” Liam interrupted smoothly. “We understand, of course, that a place of such caliber demands a certain price. But surely you have newer courtesans who could fit our desires and our budget.”
Her gaze flicked between the three of them, assessing. Aidon shifted his stance, just enough that the change purse in his pocket jingled. “Of course, we recognize we’ll each need to meet the price,” he added.
“Of course,” she finally acquiesced, her expression smoothing with a blink of her coal-lined eyes. She pivoted slightly, her gaze settling on a tall blond gentleman. She jerked her chin, and suddenly he was before them, his face round, eyes blue, cheeks tinged with a blush that Aidon was certain he had perfected.
“Charles will more than suit your needs.” The man’sfull lips stretched in a coy smile. The madam nodded her dismissal, and Charles cocked a finger to beckon them toward a pile of cushions. Aidon stopped him with a hand in the crook of his elbow.
“We’re rather eager to get started,” he murmured, pitching his voice low. He cut a look to his companions, pausing when his gaze fell on Will. “And that one is rather shy,” he added with a wink to the courtesan. “Not one for public displays, I’m afraid.”
“Understood,” Charles assured him as he turned to lead them instead to the staircase tucked away at the back of the room. He walked backwards, navigating the space with ease, his eyes trailing down Will’s figure as he did so. “You certainly don’tlookthe type to be timid.”
Will kept his face passive, but Aidon could see the way the vein in his neck throbbed as he tried to swallow his annoyance.
“Looks are deceiving,” Aidon retorted, biting back his own grin as Liam choked on a laugh.
It was his own form of retribution for their training that morning. Will had been particularly on edge, and while Aidon knew it did him no favors for Will to go easy on him, it he didn’t particularly enjoy being the Enforcer’s metaphorical punching bag. Aidon could still recall the suffocating weight of Will’s power as it ripped through his shield as if it were no more than paper.
He’d grunted an apology, couched, naturally, in some lesson about shielding and some other nonsense, and perhaps it made Aidon immature to rib him now, but he couldn’t resist.
One had to find joy where they could these days. Or, at the very least, maintain their fragile grip on their control.
Aidon felt his slipping every second. One wrong breath, and he might crumble under the weight of what they were facing.
One day, your jokes will not be the shield you think they are, his mother’s voice echoed in his head.
Maybe not. But they hadn’t failed him yet, and everything else had.
Charles turned around to take the stairs, and Will used the opportunity to shoot Aidon a glare that he could feel lingering on his back as he followed the courtesan. They reached the second floor, turned right down a long stretch of hallway, and followed Charles into a room at the end of the hall.
It was large, with a four-poster bed draped in crimson silk sheets. There were more throw pillows on it than Aidon could count, enough to put his own palace’s decor to shame. The window on the left wall was open, letting in the noise of the market. Curtains obscured the view, the white fabric billowing in the sparse breeze.
Charles sat on the foot of the bed, his posture loose and easy as he followed Aidon’s gaze to the window.
“We can close it if you’d like,” he offered, his hands toying with the sash at his waist. His blue eyes went dark as they dragged to Will. “More…privacy.”
Will took up a post at the faux fireplace beside the window, his arms folding across his chest. “That won’t be necessary,” he said. Charles shrugged and went to untie the sash. “Nor will that,” Will added.
