Though the moon had arched higher into the sky, Orelia wasn’t ready to go back to the inn. She went to the next street over and made her way down the cobblestoned road until she came upona massive building with a white stone facade. Enormous gray and white vases overflowing with luscious ivy framed the steps leading to the building. Humongous lanterns holding trulights in a size she didn’t know existed bracketed the doors, and the sound of collective mirth swept into the street. A man with flecks of gold paint on his face and neck stumbled out of the establishment and fell down the steps, laughing as he went.
The White Pony.
Two stone-faced batalins stood at attention guarding the entrance as patrons gathered in a line to get in. One of them picked the drunk off the ground and threw him into the grassy area across from the Pony.
The pastel blue-skinned batalins clutched sharp glaives that were at least two feet taller than they were, and the men had to be at least seven feet tall. Battle axes were strapped to their backs, accompanied by two longswords on each hip. Their matching pastel eyes scanned every person walking by.
Overkill for simply guarding a pleasure house, she thought. Orelia noted a side door propped open with a rock, and an idea struck. Surely someone inside needed healing, and Millie had said the Pony didn’t have witches on staff.
No one came in or out of the side door as she watched from the safety of an alcove across the street, debating what to do. After a few minutes, Orelia made her decision.
She managed to disguise herself amongst a group of rens who were so drunk they didn’t even notice her joining them. She shimmied out through a gap in their sloppy group, hurried up the steps, and slipped into the brothel. She’d just heal a few girls, then be on her way.
thirteen
Orelia moved quietly throughthe bright hall, surprised to find it empty. Floral perfume filled the pristine space decorated with flickering trulights that mimicked candles. She didn’t know the orbs could do such a thing.
Distant laughter came from somewhere up ahead, but thankfully Orelia didn’t run into anyone as she continued down the hall, passing a few closed doors that stretched to the ceiling.
She pushed her shoulders back and took confident steps, trying not to let her eyes wander to the intricate molding on the walls; if she was going to pull off being here, she had to act like she belonged. Voices grew louder and she paused, peeking around the corner.
A colossal white marble horse stood in the middle of the main room. Its feathered wings stretched across the entirety of the space, and the muscular horse had been carved to perfection. It stood tall and proud with ears forward, body set in motion with one front leg curved in a grand high step.
Even more impressive were the three people seated on the horse’s back, an area that had been chiseled down to a flat seat. Two humanwomen painted in gold fondled a naked dwarf with a missing hand and a lopsided, drunken smile.
Two batalins stood at attention on the far wall, but they were currently too occupied watching the people on the horse to notice Orelia.
Laughter filled the elegant room, lit with twinkling trulights of every size that reflected on the polished, white marble floors. The walls were lined with ivory gossamer curtains, and the pleasure girls’ outfits were just as sheer. Two strands of thin, white fabric ran over their breasts, meeting just below their navel. The same pattern draped down their backs, leaving their ribs and hips fully exposed with a gold rope tied around their waists. Two shirtless, painted men appeared from a side hall wearing matching fabric wrapped around their hips, attached by the same gold rope.
Beron didn’t hire men, and few in Minro would have been enjoyable to look at in such little clothing. Orelia couldn’t stop her wandering eyes. She gripped the corner of the wall as more human men of every skin tone entered the room with white-feather crowns adorning their heads. Her gaze traveled down their chiseled bodies glistening in gold paint, and Orelia found herself chewing on her bottom lip as she ogled them.
She shook her head, disappointed in herself. She was no better than the customers scattered about the room.
Barefooted pleasure workers lounged on white couches next to patrons drinking clear liquid with stars in their eyes. Men with men, women with women, a mix of both, and others she wasn’t quite sure of trailed their fingers over each other’s skin, lost in pleasure.
“Who are you?” a silky voice asked.
Orelia turned to see a beautiful human woman about her age with straight chestnut hair. Her body was painted in gold like the others, everywhere except her face. She played with the rope around her waist that sat above finger-shaped bruises showing through the translucent fabric of her dress. “I’m quite expensive but well worth it,” the woman said with an all-too familiar smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Oh, I’m not a customer.” Orelia looked around, hoping she hadn’t drawn the attention of the batalins. Thankfully, they were occupied with an unruly stiv slurring his words and spilling his drink. She spoke softly. “I’m a witch. I worked as a healer in the brothel in Minro, and I want to help. I can heal those bruises on your hip.”
The girl’s charade faded, and her eyes flitted around the room. “Follow me.” She grabbed Orelia’s hand and pulled her down a hall lined with individual rooms marked by a gold numeral above the doors. They entered a room near the end and the girl whispered for her to stay there, shutting Orelia in.
She took in the windowless room decorated much like the main space. A bed with rumpled sheets sat in the middle while the corners of the room were decorated with vases full of white roses. The floral perfume negated the scent of sex and sweat, a much cleaner smell than the suffocating incense at Beron’s.
The petite brunette returned with another pleasure girl with luscious, wavy red hair. “Doyle sent three of our girls to Minro recently. Do you know them?” the redhead asked.
“I met Millie,” Orelia said. “But I didn’t get to meet the other two before I left.”
The redhead grabbed the other girl’s hand and choked back a sob.
The brunette patted her friend’s hand and spoke to Orelia. “I’m Arielle, and this is Tara, Millie’s sister. Doyle wouldn’t let the two of them go together.”
Tara wiped away a tear. “Is Millie okay? Did you get to talk to her?”
Orelia put a reassuring hand on her bare shoulder. “My best friend Teegan works at the brothel too, and I promise she’ll look out for her.”
Tara gave her a broken smile. “I’ve been so worried about her. I tried to keep my little sister away from this life, but Doyle managed to snatch her up anyway.” She sniffled. “He always finds a way to get what he wants.”
